Eggs Benedict Arnold (30 page)

When Lady Dubonnet came hustling toward them,
on
her way to the
ladies
’
room, Suzanne did a slight double take and said,
“
I think I know her!
”

“
Who is she?
”
asked Toni.

“
Kit Kaslik.

“
Oh wow,
”
said Toni.

“
I
’
m going to talk to her,
”
said Suzanne. And just as
Kit went flying past their booth, Suzanne reached out and
grabbed her arm.

“
Watch it!
”
snarled Kit, jerking away fast, her dark eyes snapping with anger.
“
You can
’
t treat a girl like . . .
”
Then she saw Suzanne and Toni and paused, midsentence.
“
Who
’
re you two?
”
she asked, thrusting out a hip and plac
ing a hand on it in a confrontational gesture.
“
The local
Salvation Army do-gooders come to save my sorry soul?
”

“
It
’
s me, Kit,
”
said Suzanne.
“
Suzanne
The
tz. You remember, I used to teach at your high school?
”

“
Oh . . . yeah.
”
A faint smile flickered across Kit
’
s face
and she seemed to relax a bit.

“
And this is Toni Garrett,
”
said Suzanne.

“
Hey,
”
said Kit, nodding slightly.

“
How do?
”
said Toni.
“
I really liked the way you wig
gled your way through that song.
”

“
She didn
’
t really,
”
said Suzanne, hastily.
“
Fact is, you shouldn
’
t be working here at all.
”

“
I guess it
’
s not exactly a high-test career path,
”
added Toni.

“
Tips are good,
”
said Kit. She projected a wry smile, but
there was sadness in her eyes.

“
Honey,
”
said Suzanne, sliding over and pulling Kit into
the booth with her.
“
You are so much better than this.
So
much better.
”

That was all it took. Kit shook her head and sighed deeply.
“
It
’
s hard to find a really good job around here.
”

“
It sure is,
”
agreed Toni.

“
Don
’
t tell me you enjoy this,
”
said Suzanne, in a soft voice.

“
Not really,
”
said Kit, sniffling now.
“
Frankie, the manager, is always pushing us to
fraternize
with the customers.
That
’
s what he calls it, fraternizing. But he really means
hitting on them. Hard. Get the guys to offer to buy a drink,
then order something fancy and expensive like a Pink Squirrel or a Golden Cadillac. Or a bottle of five-dollar champagne that Frankie marks up to thirty bucks.
”

“
Whatever happened to a plain old brewski?
”
muttered
Toni.

But Suzanne was focused on the bigger picture.
“
This is
not a job with a good future,
”
she told Kit.
“
From here it
’
s a slippery slope to gosh knows what.
”

“
Or a slippery pole,
”
added Toni.

“
Tell you what,
”
continued Suzanne.
“
The Cackleberry
Club ... you
’
ve heard of the Cackleberry Club?
”

Kit nodded.

“
We
’
re having a big event this Saturday,
”
explained Su
zanne.
“
A Take the Cake Show plus an evening gourmet dinner. And we could use a little extra help. Maybe . . . well, would you be interested?
”

“
You mean like waitressing?
”
Kit wasn
’
t particularly
thrilled.

“
More like an assistant for the cake event,
”
said Suzanne.
“
And, yes, a waitress in the evening. But I can pretty much
guarantee you wouldn
’
t have to wear fishnet stockings.
”

“
Or take anything off,
”
added Toni.

“
That
’
s a really nice offer,
”
said Kit.
“
And you both seem very kind. But... can I think about it?
”

“
Seems like you already are.
”
Suzanne smiled as Kit slipped out of the booth.

“
Sweet girl,
”
said Toni, once Kit had left.

“
Too sweet for this place,
”
said Suzanne. She was relieved
there
weren
’
t any more pole dancers performing for the time being. Just a song playing on the jukebox with
one of the longest titles in history:
“
How Could You Have
Believed Me When I Told You that I Loved You, When You
Know I
’
ve Been a Liar All My Life?
”

“
Listen,
”
said Suzanne,
“
they
’
re playing Junior
’
s song.

“
Where is that little creep, anyway?
”
wondered Toni, fidgeting nervously.

“
Hey,
”
said Suzanne,
“
did you know that Carmen Cope
land may have made an offer on the Driesden and Draper Funeral Home?
”

“
What?
”
Toni swiveled her head back toward Suzanne. She obviously hadn
’
t heard.
“
What are you talkin
’
about?
”

“
Gene Gandle mentioned it today. When he came in to do the interview with Carmen.
”

“
Draper
’
s gonna sell out?
”
asked Toni.

“
Maybe,
”
said Suzanne.
“
Although the whole thing sounds fishy to me.
”

“
What
’
s Carmen gonna do with an old funeral home?
”
asked Toni.
“
Fill it with bats and broomsticks and move in?
”

“
The words
fine dining
were mentioned.
”

“
No way!
”
screeched Toni. She stared at Suzanne, her mouth agape.
“
That
’
s what you
’
ve been talking about.
”

“
Yes, it is,
”
said Suzanne, a little glumly.
“
In fact, I already checked out a little house over on Arbor Street. An
adorable bungalow-style place that has a dining room with French doors that would convert perfectly into a wine bar.
And room for about seven or eight tables in the rest of the downstairs.
”

“
Cackleberry Club West?
”
asked Toni.

“
I was thinking more of Crepe Suzanne
’
s.
”

A grin lit Toni
’
s face.
“
Perfect! Oh, Suzanne, you
’
re such a smarty. A real entrepreneur.
”

“
Still,
”
said Suzanne,
“
all that
’
s a pipe dream. Gotta
make the Cackleberry Club profitable first.
”

“
I thought we were making a profit.
”

“
Making a living,
”
said Suzanne.
“
Big difference.
”

“
See?
”
said Toni.
“
That
’
s why you
’
re CEO. You
’
re
plugged in to all this tricky business stuff.
”

“
Unless Carmen aces me out.
”

“
She
’
s one mean malefactor,
”
said Toni.

Twenty minutes later, they
’
d nursed their beers about as much as they could and fended off several unwanted advances.

“
Where is Junior anyway?
”
worried Toni. She alternated
between nervousness and full-blown hostility.

“
Maybe he came and left,
”
suggested Suzanne. She was
ready to call it quits herself.

“
No,
”
said Toni.
“
I
’
ve kept an eye out. He
’
ll show up. He has to.
”

Those seemed to be the magic words, for suddenly Ju
nior Garrett swaggered in through the front door.

“
There
’
s the little runt now,
”
Toni hissed, as she watched
Junior walk halfway down the bar,
th
en swing up easily onto a bar stool.

“
Gonna have himself a drink?
”
mused Suzanne, sliding down in her seat, but still keeping an eye on him.

But Junior didn
’
t seem to be placing any kind of drink
order. Instead, he reached inside his leather jacket, pulled
out an envelope, and slid it across the top of the bar. A
youthful-looking bartender quickly put his hand on the en
velope and made it magically disappear.

“
Whoa,
”
said Suzanne.

Junior lit a cigarette and looked around nonchalantly for
a couple of minutes, seemingly studying the crowd of bik
ers and truckers that stood arguing by the pool tables. Then
he stood up and casually sauntered back outside.

“
Did you see that exchange with the bartender?
”
asked
Toni, looking morose.
“
Junior
is
up to something.
”

“
Hmm,
”
was Suzanne
’
s measured response.
“
I don
’
t suppose those were auto parts.
”