Bobby's Diner (8 page)

“Georgie, Mrs. Pyle was telling…”

“Helen, please.” Mrs. Pyle untied
the silk scarf around her neck and used it like a fan.

“Helen was telling me about how
she and Mayor Pyle met.”

“Well, he wasn’t a mayor when we
met!” The wine had loosened her vocal chords and she inadvertently yelled what
normally would have been a comment then giggled and snorted about the volume
and placed her hand over her lips, she went on,“He was the skinniest little
nerd in high school!” She pursed her lips and blew out when she laughed like a
balloon losing its air. We all began laughing,
 
in part because she was openly getting intoxicated but, also, because we
were having fun at the expense of the mayor.

Then, she asked as she looked at
both of us back and forth, “How did you all meet your husband?” She roared at
her own boldness. Vanessa looked down at the table and my hands automatically
flew up to cover my face. I couldn’t believe she’d spoken the unspeakable and… it
was hysterical. I wanted to bellow out but knew it was
 
inappropriate. Helen remained quiet as she
watched us. I sat motionless for a couple of beats when I heard a slow deep
huh, huh, huh from the left of me where Vanessa was sitting. I lifted my left
hand from over my eye and saw Vanessa outwardly amused by Helen’s comments.
Then, my hands
 
dropped to the table and
we all looked at each other and busted up.

We laughed and talked for quite
some time. It turned out the mayor was quite a control-freak and she was
thrilled he’d left town if for only the next three days. Vanessa and I made it
a point to try to arrange a get- together again, just the three of us before
his return. We decided after dinner the next night we would go out to Harvey’s,
our local corner bar and attempt to sing karaoke. Why not, right?

The sun was dipping in the sky
and we were all a little hungry so we made something to eat. We wined and dined
Helen and she had a ball, we all had a ball. It was the first time since Bobby
that I hadn’t thought of him on the hour. I spent my first night out without my
husband in a long time. Helen and I had a girls’ night out and enjoyed
ourselves.

CHAPTER 11

“Leyla! I need the purchase
agreements for the Sunnydale land A-S-A-P!” Leyla ran into Zach Pinzer’s office
holding legal documents in front of her ready to put on his desk.

“Sorry, Mr. Pinzer. I just
finished making the changes you needed.”

“I’ll get these signed.” He
quickly signed the papers as he was talking. “You notarize them and get them
off with the seller’s copy to the mayor of Sunnydale today. We need this turned
around no later than tomorrow. Courier them to him today. Give him all the
appropriate mailing packages he’ll need to get them back to us. He’s waiting
for this stuff right now. I just talked to him. So, go! Let me know when he
gets it.” Leyla ran out of the office with the documents in-hand. Pinzer was
known around the office as a
 
hard-hitting,
 
hungry young
executive with nerves of steel and a cutthroat style if anything stood in his
way.

On the way down to the copier,
Leyla nearly ran head into Mr. Chariot. Mr. John Chariot had started Chariot International
Inc. when he was a young man out of college.
 
With his family’s help he financed his first development project and
sold it for enough to pay back his debt with interest as well as pay staff and
laborers, plus make a healthy profit. After twenty-five years, he’d built a
reputation as a stand-up person and an honest businessman. He lived by the
motto “You only have your name.”
 
And, he
meant it. He wanted people to associate his name—his
 
company—with respect and decency.

“Leyla, slow down. What’s the
rush?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Chariot!
I’m so sorry.”

“What are you in such a hurry
about? People shouldn’t have to run through the office to get their work done.
You tell Pinzer, that’s straight from me.”

“It’s the Sunnydale purchase
agreements. I have to get them
 
to the
mayor today so he can return them tomorrow.”

“Did you say Sunnydale?”

“Yes, Mr. Chariot. Mr. Pinzer
told me to get them out right away.”

“Can I have a look at those,
Leyla?” Reluctantly Leyla handed John Chariot the contracts. He flipped through
a couple of pages while they stood together.

“You know what, there’s one other
thing we might need to specify. I’ll take these to Zach right now. You slow
down and take a break, okay? This can wait.”

“Yes, Mr. Chariot.”

John Chariot ventured up to the
third floor only on Tuesdays. Normally, Monday he spent in one of his two
satellite offices or at a development site. He closed Zach’s office door behind
him.

“Zach, what the hell is this? I
thought we were clear on corridor properties, no corridors, no tourist traps. I
told you Sunnydale is not the kind of property Chariot is interested in
 
pursuing. What do you think you’re pulling?”

“John, I’ve seen it done so many
times and very successfully. This is my budget and my baby.”

“This is my business!” “John…”

“It’s over Zach. Find a property
with an already established demographic. I don’t want to see this sort of
formula within our company. Am I clear?”

“But, John.”

“Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir. You’re clear.”

After Chariot left, Pinzer sulked
in his office. He called the mayor of Sunnydale to tell him about the delay.
“Mayor Pyle, hello. Zach Pinzer here. There’s been a delay… no, nothing
serious… yes, that’s why I’m calling. Is tomorrow okay for you? I’ll hand
deliver them myself… great, see you then.”

When Pinzer hung up he felt
stronger and even more sure that the plan would work. He’d have to lay low and
move quickly. But, he’d see this project through. It would be successful. He
would be seen as the future of Chariot. Zach stood up behind his desk and
stretched. He looked out on the smog blanketing Phoenix.

“Leyla.” He called over the
intercom.

“Yes, Mr. Pinzer.” “Come in here
please.”

Leyla opened the door
diminutively. She started to explain how Chariot intercepted her and got the
documents. But Zach hushed her.

“Come in and shut the door. Put
the Do Not Disturb sign up, too, please.” Leyla smiled sweetly. “Are you
wearing any underwear today, Leyla?” Leyla giggled and coyly pulled up her
skirt around her bare hips.

“Excellent… come here.”

CHAPTER 12

The southwest sun was doing its
usual thing and another warmer than normal spring brought an early onset of
cactus flowers. The frying blaze burnt them off before the week was over. Sweat
rolled from under my breasts and the bandana around my neck was soaked.

It was about ten in the morning,
I still had a headache from all
 
the wine
I’d drunk the evening before and Vanessa and I
 
were prepping for dinner when he showed up at the back door—the delivery
door. It was ajar to help circulate in some fresh air. This morning that’s
where he showed up, quite suddenly, as a matter of fact. And, when I think back
I still can’t remember hearing him arrive in a car.

He looked to be in his late
twenties, maybe early thirties. He was a young version of a corporate bigwig
with his
 
overly pressed shirt and
pleated pants. The only thing out of
 
place was a loosened tie. It looked like he had pulled on it slightly
for affect. His nutty- colored severely short hair glistened with gel.

“Ms. Georgette Carlisle?” He
called from the frame of the door. “That’s me.”

“Yes, ma’am. If I could have a
minute of your time.”

“Are you selling something?”

“No ma’am—not sellin’.” The left
side of his mouth twitched like he was holding back a smile as he repeated the
word just like I’d said it. He cleared his throat by putting a fist up to his
mouth. “I need to go over this paperwork with you.”

“Paperwork?” I wiped chicken fat
off my hands onto the front of my apron and I walked over to him as I tried to
smooth back the hair from my face.

“My name is Pinzer, ma’am.” He
held out his hand. “Zach Pinzer.” We connected hands. His grip was weak like he
was afraid he might hurt me. I still grabbed his strongly and gave him a solid
shake. He must have felt the oil of the fat on my hands. He looked at his
shaking hand, grabbed a kerchief out of his pocket and wiped it off.

“Oh, sorry. I’m cutting up
chicken. Preparing for our evening meals, you know.”

He had a look on his face like
he’d eaten a fly. Then, he folded and stuffed the kerchief back into his pocket
and continued his pitch.

“I represent Chariot
International Incorporated.” “What’s Chariot International Incorporated?”

“Well, we’re a conglomerate
corporation who has holdings in many areas. And, we’ve been watching you.”
“Watching me what?”

“Your business, ma’am. We’ve been
watching your business. This business has grown from a small interest to what
it is today.” He smiled like I should be happy about what he
 
was telling me. “And, we think this business
would fit well into our corporate strategy. You see we build small boutique
malls that have one focal point restaurant. We believe this little strip mall
here could be redone and
 
rebuilt
 
to be a fabulous tourist boutique setting.
Kind of like a second Sedona, if you will. All we need is for you to sign our
letter of intent to start the wheels in motion…”

“What are you saying?” During his
pitch I felt like I was dog-paddling—I didn’t know how to respond.

“Chariot International wants to
locate along this strip mall,
 
specifically this building—Chariot wants your business. We’re offering
to buy it for a very generous amount.”

Vanessa had been listening while
she prepped potatoes. She hadn’t missed a beat—I could hear the whooshing
  
strokes
  
from
 
her
  
peeling
  
in
  
the background—until, that
is, when she included herself in the conversation.

“Excuse me young man but this
business is not for sale.” Vanessa walked up next to me. Her face was hard. “Chariot
 
International’s contract only states a
Georgette Carlisle as
 
the primary. I can
only discuss this with her.”

“Well, I’m Vanessa Carlisle and I
own half of this business. I can speak to this subject as well.” She took a
meaningful breath, “And, young man, your contract,” she said it like a dirty
word, “is incorrect, this business is not for sale!” She was brilliant. I still
stood there dumbfounded.

“Excuse me, ma’am, but do you
have an interest in Bobby’s Diner?”

“Yes, she does. She owns fifty
percent and has a say in every aspect of this business too.”

“Well, then…” He flipped to a
page in the document. “Wouldn’t you both like to know what Chariot is
offering?” He’d lost his smirk. Vanessa walked right up to him and backed him
out the door. He was now standing on the delivery ramp. He looked surprised.
She grabbed hold of the door knob and started to close it. Pinzer yelled the
offer just before the door slammed shut.

“Two and a half million…” We
could hear his muffled voice continuing outside the closed door. “That’s over a
million each!” We looked at each other with high brows when he finished.

“I forgot about that part of the
business.” Vanessa headed back to her potatoes.

I stared like a virgin at
Vanessa. “What just happened, Van?”

“Some ass-wipe just tried to buy
our restaurant.” She giggled slightly and wiped sweat from her upper lip. I put
my hand to my mouth and laughed out loud just once.

“Come on, Georgie, we have a
business to run. Yuppies make me sick!” By then it was just before dinner and
we were still talking about it. Vanessa untied her apron and threw it onto a
counter. “This sort of thing used to happen all the time back when me and Bobby
ran the place. They think they can bring their big business mentality into our
little community and give us something to live for… the bastards.”

“Well, Vanessa. Believe it or
not, I was considering selling. A million dollars sounds pretty good right
about now.”

“What?” She stopped her chopping
duty and laid the knife gently onto the counter where she worked. Her back was
turned toward the potatoes.

“Well, yeah. After our fight the
other day I made myself a game plan. Part of it was to sell.” Vanessa stood
tall when I began talking. “Yep. I had it all figured out. I have nothing here
anymore. I figured I’d split. Walk away—do the right thing.”

“Oh, and you think doing that is
the right thing? Kind of like penance for your past sins?”