There were a couple of seconds of silence, then she saw the three dots that told her he was typing.
Imogene isn’t talking to me. She’s pissed and let me tell you, it’s hard to fight with someone when you live in a boat. There are no corners to retreat to. While I won’t admit you’re my favorite, you are a terrific daughter. I just hate to see you taking a chance like you are. What if something goes wrong?
She thought for a second. What if something doesn’t?
Point taken. I love you, Zennie, and I miss you. You’re right—I should be there for you. But really? A baby?
She sniffed. Yes, Dad. A baby. Let it go.
It’s gone. Love you, baby girl. We’ll talk soon.
She smiled. There were more tears—of course—but these were the happy kind. There were still multiple issues—Gina, her mother, work, telling her coworkers, actually being pregnant for eight more months, delivering the baby, recovering, eating kale—but they were doable, she told herself. Everything was going to be just fine.
* * *
Ali spent the first part of her vacation week working on her notes for her conversation with her boss when she returned to the warehouse the following Monday. She wanted facts and figures easily accessible. Once that was done, she had lunch with Finola, helped her mother empty a few cupboards and spent her evenings and nights with Daniel. The man was a god in bed and she didn’t care who knew it.
On second thought, she did care, which was why she didn’t mention the shift in their relationship to anyone, but she knew and that was enough. Their time together was amazing. He was funny and kind. He always wanted to know what she was thinking. He wanted her with him and he liked her sleeping with him.
Glen had never wanted to spend the night at her apartment and he hadn’t wanted her staying over with him. Ali hadn’t figured that out until recently. They’d usually had sex at her place and then he left. She wasn’t sure how they were supposed to have transitioned into an actual marriage, she’d thought when she’d put the pieces together. Had Glen expected them to have separate bedrooms or something? Not that she cared—the only significance was that there was another check mark on the list of reasons it was never going to work.
Thursday morning she headed for the motocross track. She had a lesson that afternoon but she wanted to spend the morning getting more familiar with Daniel’s business. She was meeting him for lunch, but before that, there was much to explore.
The tracks themselves were open seven days a week, as were the extra trails. The rentals and concession stands were only available on weekends during the winter months. In a few more weeks, they would stay open every day through the summer.
Ali walked into the huge garage area. Guys with bikes could rent space to do repairs or they could use the on-site mechanics, for a price, of course. There were plenty of tools, a lot of light and advice available.
She went through the swinging doors into the back where the parts were kept. This was her world, she thought with a smile. Long rows of metal shelves filled with parts for the rentals or for owners doing repairs. Only as she walked around she saw the layout was disorganized at best. Multiple-piece components were not clustered together, and refurbished parts were mingled with new. Some of the closest shelves were dusty from disuse while the parts she knew had to be used nearly every day were in the back. In a word, Daniel’s parts inventory was a mess.
She walked to a nearby computer and discovered it wasn’t password protected. She got into the inventory system and did a quick printout. After that, she played around and discovered that she could easily change inventory numbers, meaning theft would be a snap.
“Oh, Daniel,” she murmured. “We so need to have a talk.”
She took pictures and measurements, then started studying the printout. When he showed up with sandwiches and sodas, she’d taken over a desk in the back and had papers spread out all over.
“Homework?” he asked, his voice teasing.
She looked up. “Is it lunchtime already? I’ve been working.”
“I can see that. Want to tell me about the project?”
“Give me a second and I’ll meet you in your office.”
She retreated to the restroom to wash her hands, then grabbed her notes and joined him in his office.
“You look serious,” he said, sounding more intrigued than annoyed.
“You have a big inventory problem,” she said as she sat down and stuck a straw in her cup of soda. “No wonder you always need me to rush you parts. Your computers aren’t password protected and anyone can get into your inventory control. For all you know, hundreds of parts are just walking out the door every month. There’s no system for how parts are stored. If I didn’t know better, I would say you simply throw them on whatever shelf is available.”
He shifted in his chair. “It used to be like that, but I’ve made some improvements.”
“No, Daniel. I’ve made some improvements.” She shifted her chair to his side of the desk and showed him what she’d been working on.
“First I listed your parts by sales volume. Like every business, 20 percent of your inventory makes up 80 percent of your business. You need to keep those up front where they can be found and distributed easily.”
They went through her notes. She talked to him about doing spot checks and making people sign out parts.
“There are some high-end items that should be locked up.”
“I trust my guys,” he said.
She looked into his dark eyes. “Yes, but it’s not just your guys back there. The public can wander around at will. I know you’re losing money from theft. You need to figure out how much.”
He handed her a sandwich. “Smart and beautiful. I’m one lucky guy. What else would you do differently around here?”
She gave herself a second to enjoy the compliment. Daniel was always generous with them and she was actually starting to think he might mean what he said.
“The concession stands need to be fixed up. They’re looking old and tired. A fresh coat of paint would help and maybe some new signage. Nothing fancy. Also, you have a ton of land out here and not all of it is chewed up by the tracks.”
“Chewed up?”
“You know what I mean. You have natural wilderness. This is LA. We love the outdoors.”
“You don’t.”
She smiled. “I tolerate it. My point is, you’re not making any money from the unused land.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Spend a couple thousand dollars to section off an area, put up some inexpensive fencing and rent it out.”
His brows drew together in confusion. “For what?”
“Weddings, parties, corporate retreats.” She felt her eyes widen. “Oh, wow. You should offer corporate bonding exercises. That would be a great way to grow the business. Corporations are always looking for stuff like that for their executive teams. It’s way more interesting to ride a bike than do some trust exercise. And you already have classrooms and decent bathrooms. They could make a day of it.”
He stared at her. “You’ve given this a lot of thought.”
“Not really. I’m just brainstorming. My point is your inventory control sucks and it’s costing you a lot of money. Fix that. Then we can talk about ways to grow the business. I think you could even have weddings up here.”
“The bikes are loud.”
“The bikes stop running around six. So all the weddings would start at seven. No biggie.”
“Ali, you’ve come up with a half dozen ideas in ten minutes. You’re good at this.”
“Thank you.” She waved her sandwich. “Oh, what about a Christmas village? You know with cute shops and reindeer and Santa.”
“No Christmas village.”
She slid onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You say that now, but I’ll bet I can convince you.”
“You probably can.” He kissed her. “The confidence is very sexy, just so you know.”
Confident? Her? She nearly laughed out loud only to realize she was feeling kind of confident. Inventory was her thing, so that wasn’t a surprise, but the rest of it had just come to her.
“You’re good for me,” he said right before he claimed her mouth with his.
As she kissed him back, she realized he was good for her, too.
* * *
Finola told herself she wasn’t going to faint. She’d had a protein drink a couple of hours ago and later tonight there would be actual food. She would be careful, though. After five days of no solid food, she didn’t want to get sick. That would hardly support the image she was presenting to the world.
She was buffed, spray-tanned and had endured a painful facial that had left her skin glowing. All that was left was for her to finish her makeup, then put on her gown.
Her mother stood in the doorway to her room. “I’d forgotten what it was like to get dressed up,” she said with a sigh. “So much work, but it’s worth it.” She crossed to the mirror over the dresser and studied herself. “Not that I would look like I used to.”
Finola put her hands on her mom’s shoulders and kissed her cheek. “You look great.” She paused. “Mom, are you dating?”