Worst Week Ever (A Long Road to Love) (25 page)

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Next, she
addressed the front door problem. Mr. Bergerman assured her he’d tried to fix
it. However, police had shut down the whole area due to the bomb scare. “I did
see your problem on TV when the SWAT team tried to enter the building. I
believe something has caught in the bottom track. I could tell by the jerking
motion, the motor wanted to open the door. I’m not trying to make an excuse
here—”

“With our
employees, that’s more than likely. But you’ll still come and fix it, right?”

“Just as soon
as I can get to it.”

“Well, I just
spoke to the policeman in charge and an officer should be removing the tape
even as we speak. So anytime today will be good.”

“Today?” The
stress in his voice warned her it might be good for her, but not him.

“I really need
it fixed as soon as possible. My boss actually broke his nose running into it
yesterday, and —”

“I’m leaving
now.”

She thanked
him and hung up. His change of heart didn’t surprise her. Trent had been in a difficult
mood the day Mr. Bergerman installed the door, so he knew how impossible her
boss could be.

Next, she
called Jack.
Always lead with good news.
“Hey, I have your cookies.”

“All right! Tell
me how to get them. I’m starving.”

“I’m working
from Trent’s home office.”

“Is he there?”

She detected
tension in Jack’s voice. “No, he’s in the hospital trying to straighten his
nose.”

“Seriously?
The man looks like he walked off a GQ cover now. What could he possibly want
changed?”

“Trent broke
his nose on the door then reinjured it when the cop slammed him face down on
the car hood.”

“Didn’t do my
car any good either,” Jack grumbled.

“That was your
car?”

“
Was
being the key word. The insurance company refuses to pay to fix the damages
because it occurred during a terrorist attack.”

“I’m pretty
sure they’ve quietly downgraded it to an act of vandalism by an angry employee
and her five stupid nephews. I’ll call the policeman in charge and see.”

“You know the
policeman in charge? I’ve been trying to get his name all day!”

“I do, but let
me call him. Joey says he’s normally grumpy with civilians, but he seems to like
me.”

Jack laughed.
“Yeah, you have a way with people.”

“Miss Schnell
would disagree.”

“I meant
testosterone-filled people.”

“Miss Schnell
has a mustache, and Joey said it took two cops to hold her while they cuffed
her.”

“They have
cuffs that big?”

“No, they used
plastic ties.”

“Surprised
they held. You know I once saw her lift the end of a desk up with one hand so
she could reach the pen that rolled beneath it.”

“When did you
ever come to the fifth floor?”

“I didn’t. She
came to me bearing a promise to squeeze my balls until they popped like grapes
if I dared put another person on payroll without her permission.”

Carrie
grimaced. Poor Jack, she’d never realized the danger he faced just trying to do
his job. “How long ago did this happen?”

“I don’t remember.
When did you come to work for us?”

God, I’m
just endless trouble for the guy.
“Sorry.”

“Hey, you
would’ve quit if you didn’t get paid soon. Couldn’t let that happen.”

“Can’t lose
your turtle connection.”

“Not a chance.
So how do I get to our boss’s home office?”

She gave him
the address, but then had second thoughts. “I have to ask the butler if it’s
okay to have visitors. He has rules about what I can and can’t do here. I got
in big trouble just making the turtles.”

“I want those
turtles. If you can’t let me in, you’ll have to bring them down to the lobby.”

“Okay, but
wait. I need to get into the server.” She then explained her dire financial
situation.

“I’ll send you
the expense report by email. Print it off, fill it out, get Mr. Lancaster to
sign it then give it to Chris in accounting tomorrow morning…Assuming the
office is going to be open tomorrow.”

“I hope so. In
fact, I need to make sure the place is in one piece. Meet me at the office and
I’ll bring the turtles.”

“Deal!” Jack
hung up without a goodbye.

She snuck into
the kitchen and placed all but five of the turtles into a white bag with wax
paper separating each layer.

The now
familiar clearing of a throat caused her to smile. “I just talked to Jack. I’m
going to walk over to the office, give him his turtles, check on the man who
promised to fix the front door, verify I can email our employees, and then let
them know they should return to work tomorrow. I’ve left five turtles for you,
Sam, and Trent.”

He shook his
head.

“I really
did.” She opened the door so he could see.

Mars smiled.
“I shook my head at the possibility of giving them to Sam or Master Trent. Both
men have an insatiable craving for sweets. Having already enjoyed mine, I
assure you that if you give either of them a turtle, they will eat nothing else
for the rest of their lives. So I must insist you take all those turtles to
this Jack fellow and never make them in this house again.”

“Are you
serious, or did you just want to make me feel good?”

“I am very
serious. If Chef Ivan tasted your delectable treat, he would first demand your
recipe and then quit so he could start a pastry business with those turtles as
his premiere dessert.”

Carrie
wondered whether Mars truly meant his words as a compliment or an elaborate
joke.

Evidently
growing impatient with her lack of action, he went to the refrigerator and
placed the final five into the bag. “Take these away at once.”

She took the
bag and hurried off, not bothering to change out of her sweats since what Trent
didn’t know couldn’t offend his style fetish.

As Carrie
rounded the corner, she saw Jack leaning against the outside column, watching
several men take apart the door.

The moment she
arrived, he yanked the bag from her hands and dived in, stuffing a whole turtle
in his mouth. His eyes rounded as he retrieved the turtle from his mouth and
stared at it.

“Is something
wrong?” No wonder Mars wanted them out of the house.

“Oh, my God!
These are a hundred times better than your normal turtles. These are the God of
turtles. They must be enjoyed slowly.”

“The dark
chocolate’s evidently top of the line.”

She reached in
the bag and grabbed one, ignoring Jack’s slaps at her hand.

“These are
mine, leave them alone!”

“I want to
taste one and see why everyone’s making such a fuss over them.”

She bit an
appendage and almost fell to the ground as her legs went weak from the orgasm
in her brain. “Whoa!” She had no idea real chocolate tasted this good. How
could the stuff she normally ate even qualify as chocolate? Mar’s warning made
complete sense now.

“F’n amazing!”
Jack laughed as he took tiny bites, savoring each for nearly a minute.

“I had no idea
how good expensive chocolate could be. I normally use cocoa mix, sweet milk,
and butter, but they didn’t have any cocoa mix in the cupboard so I melted down
these great-smelling chocolate bars.”

Jack hadn’t
paid attention to a word she said, so she dropped the rest of her turtle back
into his bag and turned to the men tearing apart the door.

“Got it!” The
man lifted up a number two pencil with Lancaster Chairs printed on the side.
Someone had scratched ‘Sucks’ after the name and shoved his or her disgruntled
statement in the door’s track.

Didn’t
surprise Carrie one bit. Jamming doors and tossing cabinets from the window was
par for the course when it came to the world’s worst employees. With no door in
her way, she entered the small lobby and spoke to Mr. Bergerman. “I’m going to
look around upstairs. If you need me to sign something when you’re done, just
call me on my phone.” She walked to the elevator and pushed the button.

The man leaned
out the open doorway and yelled, “The lady’s going upstairs. Get off the
sidewalk and escort her!”

A moment
later, Jack hurried to her side. “Sorry. I got distracted.”

Wanting to
retrieve her nibbled turtle, she reached for the bag. Jack slapped away her
hand. “Back off, these are mine.”

His obsession
with the chocolate concerned her. What if they were literally addictive... and
poor Jack became dependent on high-priced confectionery to get through the rest
of his life?

“Maybe we
should throw those away.”

He hugged the
bag and stepped away from her, his eyes rounded in outrage, one corner of his
mouth marred dark brown.

She rolled her
eyes. God, you’d think she’d suggested killing a baby in his arms.

When they entered
the privacy of the elevator, she explained her concern. “Jack, I think the
chocolate might be affecting your mind. You aren’t yourself today.”

Jack laughed.
“No shit!”

She recalled
the name stamped in the chocolate. It had looked decidedly Eastern European.
Did they even regulate what could be put in chocolate there? “I’m not joking. I
think those turtles are contaminated with something and I don’t want you to eat
them.”

He backed away
and glared at her. “There’s nothing wrong with my turtles. You’re just mad
because I won’t share. But these are
my
turtles. I risked my life for
them.” He moved to the corner of the elevator and sank to the ground, pulling his
knees to his chest.

“Okay, they’re
yours. I won’t try to take them away from you.”

When the doors
opened on the fifth floor, Jack remained sitting in the elevator, eating
turtles as she investigated the fifth floor offices…or its remains. Crap!
Schnell and Nephews had completely trashed the place. Everyone’s desk rested on
its side, computers lay on their sides, and monitors littered the floor. Trent
would go insane if he saw this.

Carrie
couldn’t fix it by herself, and she had little hope of Jack’s assistance. He
remained entranced with his chocolate delights.

Maybe she
should call Detective Pascal. She quickly nixed that idea, recalling he’d
mentioned a murder, which he would no doubt prioritize over her trashed office.
Besides he might have to arrest her if some Eastern European chocolatier had
put something other than fine chocolate in those bars. She could hear Jack
declaring something ‘pretty’. Nothing in the elevator should inspire such an
adjective.

She really
needed help. So she called the only other person she could think of.

* * * *

Sam and Dawn
were seconds away from the orgasm to beat all previously known orgasms when his
discarded pants purred. Sam paused. It was probably Master Trent wanting him to
drive into the city just to cart him two blocks. Still, it might be Mars. If it
were and important, he’d call from the bat phone, triggering the special ring
tone.

When the
purring stopped, Sam focused on recapturing the moment with Dawn. While they
did culminate to a moderately pleasing orgasm, it wasn’t the world’s greatest.

Furious at the
theft of his greatest sex moment ever, Sam grabbed the edge of his pants and
pulled it to him. After flipping open his phone, he went through the missed
messages. “Carrie, Mars, Mars, Mars, Joey, Master Trent, Master Trent, Master
Trent.”

He started to
toss it back to the floor when Dawn snared his phone and reviewed the list.
“Why would Carrie call you?”

“I have no
idea. Perhaps Master Trent asked her to.”

“She didn’t
leave a message.”

Not even a
deaf man could miss the jealous tension in Dawn’s voice. He threw himself onto
his back and stared up at the ceiling. The afternoon had been going so nice.

He’d picked
Dawn up from Macy’s when she got off at two and drove her straight to her
apartment so they could make continuous love until she began her eight o’clock
shift at his bar.

Glancing at
his watch, he sighed. If only the half-pint bowl of trouble had waited another
five minutes to call, her timing would have been perfect.

Dawn had
returned to the first of the list and selected play messages. Normally, he
wouldn’t put up with such shit, but he wanted this relationship to continue a
bit longer. Dawn was a cut above the women he normally dated, so if he had to
put up with some invasion of privacy due to jealousy, then he’d look on the
bright side: it meant she actually gave a damn.

“Sam, this is
Mars. I know Master Trent gave you the day off, but I need your advice on a
matter.”

“Sam, Mars
again. I tried calling Joey, but he’s on a murder case. Any chance you’re doing
something less important?”

“Sam. You need
to come in. Master Trent is at the hospital having his nose fixed. Carrie has
left the penthouse carrying a bag full of drug-laced turtles to give to some
guy named Jack. If he eats them, I fear they could both be in serious danger. I
am sorry for disturbing the first day off you’ve ever taken, half-day to be
more accurate, but I’m worried. I ate one turtle and I’m now having serious
hallucinations.”

Crap!

Leaping from
the bed, Sam grabbed his pants, even as Dawn continued to play messages. The
next voice was Master Trent’s.

“Sam, I need a
ride home from the hospital. Be here in five.”

Next
message—also Master Trent.

“Sam, where
are you? I took a taxi home, because my driver can’t bother to drive me, and
now my butler has gone mad. Will you get home! He’s talking about calling in a
burn out. What does that even mean? I think he’s having some flashback to his
army days. Get back here, or I’m firing you. I never liked my father anyway.”

He grabbed his
phone from Dawn. “Sorry, but I’ve got to go.” He leaned down and kissed her. “I
really enjoyed my few hours off.”

She softly
laughed. “Me too. Go save the butler.”

“He was my
captain in Iraq. We watch each other’s back.”

“I got it. At
least it’s not the girl who needs rescued.”

He rushed to
his limo and tore out full speed, mentally thanking Joey for making all his past
traffic points disappear.

Replaying
Mars’ message in his head, he realized he needed to rescue Carrie as well,
unless he could get Joey to help.

He called his
friend.

“Man, am I
popular today.”

“We’ve got a
problem.”

“And I’ve got
a woman stabbed eighty times.”

“She’s dead,
right?”

“I’m guessing
so, but the coroner’s still not here to declare her dead and state a cause.”

Sam had no
idea how his friend put up with all the rules that came with protecting the
public. He’d go mad.

“You remember
the half-pint girl you didn’t arrest yesterday?”

“Carrie? I
remember her very well. Long brown hair, intense green eyes, and a smile that
can light up a dead man’s heart.”

“Don’t go
there, my friend. She’s Master Trent’s toy.”

He sighed.
“And you’ve got first dibs?”

“I’ve moved on
to a woman who Master Trent’s never met and isn’t going to put through a mental
blender. I advise you to do the same.”

“So what does
your girl look like?”

“If you don’t
have time to help me save Carrie and Mars, you don’t have time to hear about
Dawn.”

“Dawn, your
bar maid? Bad move, bro’. You should never get involved with employees.”

Realizing Joey
couldn’t help, what with a dead woman lying about, Sam decided to cut his
lecture short. “Yeah, give your lecture to Master Trent. I’ve got to go now.”

Hanging up, he
called Carrie.

She answered
on the first ring, panic in her voice. “Sam, thank God you called! I know this
is your day off—”

“Are you in
immediate danger?”

“No, but—”

“Then Mars
comes first. Stay where you are and wait for me.” At least now he had his
priorities straight.

* * * *

Carrie glared
at the phone. Trent was right. His driver could be most annoying.

She glanced at
Jack trying to scale the elevator walls, yelling ‘Rosebud.’ The only Rosebud
she knew came from the old movie Citizen Cane. It hadn’t made sense when she’d
watched the film, and it didn’t make sense now.

She really
needed to get those turtles away from Jack, but every time she tried to
approach, he’d freak out, like he was a momma bear protecting a litter of tiny
bear turtles.

God, if only
she could blink her eyes and make the chocolate disappear.

Disappear.

What day is
it?
She checked her cell phone.
Thursday.
The magicians, Tiny and
Tall, had Thursday nights off. She called Tiny’s cell phone.

“Andy doesn’t
want to talk now,” an angry voice growled.

“Tiny? It’s
Carrie. I don’t know if you remember me. I came to your show with Trent and we
had dinner afterwards.”

His voice rose
an octave higher and now sounded quite cheery. “Of course, I remember you. I
proposed to you. Do you think I’d propose to a woman I don’t plan to remember?
It would make one hell of a marriage. Hello? Who are you? My
wife
? For
how long?”

If she didn’t
interrupt Tiny, he’d probably go on for hours.

“Tiny, could
you and Tall possibly help me? I need to get some turtles away from an employee
before he eats them all.”

“Is he on
drugs?”

“Yes. I think that
may be the problem.”

“And he’s
eating turtles…how big?”

“They fit in
your mouth….Oh, not real turtles. The chocolate-caramel-over-nut turtles. It’s my
gram’s recipe, only I used bars of chocolate that may have harbored secret
ingredients. He’s climbing the elevator walls crying out ‘Rosebud’ and
declaring the elevator pretty, which it isn’t.”

“This sounds
most interesting. Tall and I would love to come to your rescue. Where are you?”

Carrie gave
him her address and breathed out a sigh of relief. Tiny would get those turtles
from Jack. Only she had to make certain he didn’t eat any in the process.

She smacked
herself on the head. If she couldn’t get them away from Jack, she’d never
prevent a master magician from devouring them. She shouldn’t have called him.
Tall would never forgive her for getting Tiny hooked on turtles. They didn’t
even have rehab for a turtle addiction.

Calling Tiny
back, she asked him to put Tall on the phone.

“Why?”

“Because I
need to be sure he wants to help as well.”

“He does.”

“Then let me
speak to him.”

“You don’t
believe me? The man who begged for your hand in marriage?”

Maybe if she
hurt his feelings he wouldn’t come. To save his life, she lied. “No, I don’t.”

He laughed and
handed her over to Tall.

“Carrie?”
Tall’s deep voice resonated concern.

“Tall, I mean
Harmon, I shouldn’t have called you guys. I think my employee Jack is eating
chocolate turtles with drugs in them.”

“You think
he’s eating them, or you think there are drugs in them?”

“I know he’s
eating them, and he’s acting very weird.”

“Tiny’s
jumping at the walls, howling ‘Rosebud.’ What’s your employee doing?”

She sighed
heavily. “The same.”

“It’s not
Trent is it?”

“No, he’s my
employ-
er
. This is an employ-
ee
.”

“Just
checking. When it comes to turtles, I like to be very clear on the facts,” Tall
said in his somber voice.

“I’m afraid
Tiny is going to be so curious about the turtles he’ll eat one.”

“Almost a
certainty.”

“Then don’t
come. You have no idea how potent these things are. I nibbled one little foot
and almost fell over. I’d never tasted anything so good in my life. I’m worried
all that ‘goodness’ isn’t chocolate.”