Taking In Strays (19 page)

Donny looked back at the hallway, at how everything was in need of some repair. “I’ll do that,” he promised.

Ralph looked pleased but also looked as if he didn’t like long goodbyes. He shuffled away, sweeping, and Donny and Dan made their way out onto the street.

“Give you one last ride?” Dan offered.

That made Donny smile, that show of confidence in him. “Sure, one last time,” he replied and hoped that he meant it.

Chapter Nine

“Why don’t you call him instead of just mooning over his photo?” Burton asked as he peered over Donny’s shoulder.

Donny snapped his wallet closed, feeling embarrassed, and shoved his wallet back into his pants pocket. “Personal,” he said as he turned back to re-shelving books.

“Personal?” Burton snorted and looked at the books as if checking Donny’s work.

Burton never did actually check to make sure that Donny completed his daily tasks. The man was a disaster when it came to his own business. When he wasn’t giving the store away, he was more interested in talking to his infrequent customers or reading in the back office. He was even beginning to go home early, as if even a short day had become too exhausting for him. Donny began to suspect that the business was only an extension of the man’s interest in books and that he would rather have been doing something else.

That other interest of Burton’s might have been cooking. He seemed to show a spark of liveliness only when he was complimented on his baked goods or the food that he began to bring in daily to share with Donny.

“I thought we were friends?” Burton complained as his old fingers traced the spine of a dusty novel. “I’m not prejudiced, you know? If you need this guy to move in with you, I won’t put up a fuss.”

“Just one more person you can cook for?” Donny wondered, amused, and then decided to ask for some confidences of his own. “Why aren’t you cooking somewhere? It’s obvious to me that’s your real passion.”

The man’s expression went into grim lines. “Sometimes a man can be very vindictive, Donny. He can stab you in your passion and take the life from you that way.”

“Who did that?” Donny wondered. “Who’s keeping you from cooking and how?”

“Ever heard the phrase,
you’ll never work in this town again
?”
Burton asked. When Donny looked confused he explained, “You can apply that to a chef. Someone forgot to inform me that a guest of honor suffered from a peanut allergy. Care to guess what I served that $10,000 a plate fundraising event?”

Donny went cold, suddenly feeling as if he had just seen a rattlesnake. His tongue felt numb as he forced himself to ask, “What?”

“Ginger chicken with peanut sauce, a side of almond rice, and tofu crumbles in a wine vinaigrette salad,” Burton replied, measuring out each word as if he was pronouncing a litany of sins.

“Did this guest of honor survive the experience?” Donny wondered, knowing very well what the answer was, but giving himself time to pull himself together.

“Barely,” Burton admitted with a sigh. He wiped a hand over his old face and then smiled ruefully at Donny. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not very detail oriented. I missed a footnote. Can you imagine something that important being relegated to a footnote in a twenty page event organizer?”

“The person who held the fundraiser ruined your business because of it?”

Burton rolled eyes at him as if Donny were being stupid. “I took full responsibility, of course.” He looked troubled and sad, then. “Still, he could have limited himself to making sure that I was never head chef again. Instead, he made certain that I would never touch food in any restaurant. I was even turned down as a line cook in a diner.”

“I’m sorry,” Donny said, feeling his past stab him in the heart. Of course he remembered his father’s tirade against the chef, his ruined fundraiser, and his vow to end the career of the man responsible. That he now had this chef as his boss seemed an incredible turn of bad luck, but Donny sensed his father’s hand in this.

Of course the younger Burton was his father’s hired man. Of course, he would take advantage of his connections to a discredited relative to set Donny up for failure. As soon as old Burton found out who he had hired he would fire Donny on the spot.

“My nephew recommended me. I’m only glad that he didn’t lose his position, because of my mistake,” Burton muttered as he shuffled away to wait on one of their rare customers.

Donny felt like punching the books in front of him. It was certain that it was a complete setup. He had quit his job at the restaurant for the red herring offered by the younger Burton. Once he was comfortable and doing well, Donny didn’t have any doubt that his father would find a way to reveal to old man Burton who he really was. Out on the street and jobless, his father probably believed that Donny would come crawling back and accept one of his offers.

He wouldn’t do that, Donny determined. In fact, he was certain that he would take any option open to him to avoid going back to his father.

“I’m not sure why you keep coming back here,” Donny heard Burton say angrily. “I don’t intend to sell my shop for any amount of money.”

Donny thought that was a ridiculous statement. He had begun to suspect that Burton was drawing on personal funds to keep the book store open. He couldn’t account for its continued existence any other way. Adding to that Burton’s own personal ambivalence about working in his own shop, and Donny couldn’t understand why the man wanted it open.

Donny came out of the bookshelves in time to see Burton make a dismissive gesture at a well dressed blonde woman and walk away towards his office. She was in a smart, gray business suit with a very high hemline, had long legs, high heels, and a sour expression that didn’t detract from her very pretty features.

“Ms. Danthia,” Donny greeted her, feeling his stomach tighten up in trepidation.

She blinked at him without saying anything for a moment, but not in surprise. She was readjusting her demeanor to suit the person she was addressing.

“Mr. Kirkpatrick. I wasn’t expecting to meet you here.”

Donny didn’t think that was true at all. He gave her a smile that was as false as her new, pleasant demeanor. “What brings my father’s high priced lawyer to this end of town?”

“I have other clients, Mr. Kirkpatrick,” she explained. “They are interested in this piece of real estate.”

“Not my father?”

“Your father invests in stocks and antiques, not property.” She readjusted her briefcase and nodded towards Burton’s office. “If you have any personal dealings with Mr. Burton, try to convince him that my client is making a ridiculously large offer for a store front that isn’t worth a fourth of that price.”

“Why would your client do that?” Donny wanted to know.

“I’m not at liberty to say,” she replied primly.

“Location, location, location” Donny said thoughtfully, “Isn’t that what they always say to look for when buying property? I get the feeling that Burton’s location is going to be front and center of something important.”

“Still, not at liberty to say,” she replied and then looked Donny over critically. “I must confess that I was under the impression that you were in South America. Instead, I find you
reading
in a run down part of town. You didn’t seem the type to enjoy a good book, especially considering the legal cleanup I’ve had to do a few times on your behalf.”

“My father would prefer that I
was
in South America,” Donny replied. “As for the reading, I’m still not much for books, but the owner makes killer donuts.”

“He should become a baker then,” she said with a fine lifted brow of contempt, “and accept my offer. It didn’t take much digging to discover that he has taxes and bills that haven’t been paid. He’s in trouble.  If you know him well, you should try to convince him to take my offer. ”

“Why is that?” Donny wondered.

She smiled, but it reminded Donny of a shark, without real humor. There was blood in the water, he thought, and Old Man Burton was swimming in it. “I’m not at liberty to say.”

“This is what I think,” Donny said as he leaned in close as if he were going to kiss her ear. “I think you made a poor offer to a man who’s desperate.”

Her smile didn’t waver. “Thinking was never one of your strong points, Mr. Kirkpatrick.”

Donny glared and stepped back. “Maybe not,” he agreed, surprising her, “but I’m changing that.”

Her expression turned calculating. “I’m sure I could convince my client to give you a fee for services rendered if you help them make this sale.”

Donny pretended to think about it, but in reality he was feeling a deep disgust. Not even a few months ago, he might have taken her offer, he realized, and not cared what happened to someone like Burton. Perspective was a great thing. It made a man re-evaluate his life and priorities when it was turned on its head.

“You can keep your money,” Donny finally replied, doing a good job of keeping his temper. “I work here and I’d like it to stay open for business.”

She gave the book store a contemptuous look, “Because you’re doing so well? Don’t you miss your gold, your chauffeur, and your Italian leather shoes?”

“Your client is willing to give me that kind of money?”

She snorted in amusement. “Of course not, but I don’t think you’ll be disappointed by the amount that they will pay. Here’s my card.” She handed Donny her business card and he automatically took it. “When you realize that idealism only gets you dusty old books, in a bookstore that will soon be closed for business, you call me.”

She turned on a stiletto heel, driving it into the old wood floor, and smoothly exited the shop as if she were going down a fashion runway. Donny stared after her, frowning.

“She’s right, you know,” Burton said at his elbow.

Donny started badly and turned his frown on Burton. “I know I’m just your employee and renter, but you could have told me that you were having trouble with the business.”

“What was she talking about? Italian leather shoes?” Burton wanted to know and Donny realized that he had his own secret to keep.

“I came out to my father,” he replied. “He threw me out of his house and disowned me. He wasn’t a poor man.”

“And she knows you?” Burton persisted.

“She does some legal work for him, from time to time,” Donny replied and hoped that Burton would leave it at that.

Burton sighed irritably, “I am not an idiot, young man. I’ve always known who you are. You look like him and you do share the same last name.”

Donny felt a chill. “I didn’t know about what my father did to you. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t blame the son for the father’s sins,” Burton replied with a dismissive wave of his hand as he went behind the counter and checked the coffee maker. “Besides, I like you. You don’t seem to be cut from the same cloth.”

“I used to be,” Donny admitted, rubbing the back of his neck ruefully.

“But that’s changed, of course,” Burton insisted. “I wouldn’t trust your father with the keys to my shop, but I trust you. I can tell that you’re struggling to find your way to a better life. I want to help. I never had any children of my own. I have to adopt them where I can find them.”

“Like Greg, the book thief?” Donny wondered.

“He might not realize it, but I do consider him one of mine, just like you,” Mr. Burton explained. “I help out when I can.”

It was hard for Donny not to feel emotional about Burton considering him like a son, but he hadn’t forgotten that Burton was facing problems of his own. “As your son, then, tell me about this offer Shark Lady is trying to get you to accept. She makes it sound like a lot of money.”

“Shark Lady?” Burton chuckled at the nickname. “She’s as cold as a shark and I think she’s about to bite me in the ass. She’s right that this old place doesn’t even break even, most days, and I’ve been using up my own retirement funds to keep the door open. It’s an old landmark, though, just like every building on this street. If I sell it and let them put in one of those chain coffee shops, then I’m selling out the community, too. This is a place for old books stores, artist store fronts, and eccentric music stores. Half these stores have tenants living over them who’ll be out on the street and out of the community as soon as the deed is signed over. Housing prices will go up, more people will be forced out and to sell, and this place will turn into one of those cookie cutter apartment rows that all look alike.”

“You’re an altruistic man,” Donny replied, “But all the altruism in the world isn’t going to keep this store open if you run out of money. There are things that you can do to make more money with the place. I have some ideas if you’re willing to listen?”

Burton looked skeptical. “Turning this place into something it’s not will ruin it just as quickly as a chain coffee shop.”

Donny rethought some of his ideas and pared them down as he helped Burton clean up. Finally he said, “I think we can do that, keep the integrity of this place while making sure it makes enough money to survive.”

Burton was still skeptical as he leaned on a broom. “Tell me your plan.”

“We can sponsor community events that will draw in people from outside of the community.”

“Like?”

“Art walks that will draw people down the street past your shop,” Donny suggested. “We can also sponsor a music event, a taste of the town, pet wash, or any number of small events that would bring people here. You don’t want to change the community but there’s nothing wrong with bringing people here to enjoy it, Right?”

Burton smiled. “Nothing at all.”

“I was also thinking that some advertising outside of the community isn’t a bad thing, either,” Donny continued, “Or expanding your inventory to include other things that might draw in a different type of clientele.”

“Like?” Burton was wary again.

Donny again pared down his choices. He didn’t want to alarm the man with too much at one time, “More magazines, a few computers, and maybe some expansion on your breakfast and books idea?”

“There isn’t a lot of room for expansion,” Burton pointed out.

“We might have to eliminate your office to get the room, and rearrange some shelving, but I think we can create a sitting area inside the store with a more substantial café counter.”