Annie's Rainbow - Fern Michaels [76]
“Tom, how are you?”
“Great. Feeling better each day. Listen, I’m calling to ask what the hell is going on. A fax came into the office from Kiki that’s a little confusing. Actually two faxes came in. One was the contract for a six-month deal and the other was canceling the deal. So does this mean we don’t have a deal? Annie called late last night and said she clinched it with Kiki on a handshake. Annie thinks we have the deal. Are you guys reneging? Annie said she won’t deal with anyone but Kiki. I’d just like to know what the hell is going on.”
Parker dumped the scrambled egg in the sink. Suddenly he’d lost his appetite. He eyeballed the coffeemaker, willing it to drip faster. “Kiki quit yesterday. She was pissed when I said something she didn’t like. I don’t know what to tell you, Tom. As far as I’m concerned we have a deal. I’m not real happy with it, but I can live with it. Grayson Coffee has never done a six-month contract. The only reason I would agree to it now is because you’re an old and valued customer. There won’t be another one. Remember that. There’s no way in hell I’m stepping on Kiki’s toes again today. I’ll give you her home phone number and you can call your sister to give it to her. One of you needs to call her.”
“Boy, you really don’t know much about women, do you? You guys need to get your shit in one sock.”
“You’re right on that, Tom. As the days go by I know less and less. I did find out where Annie is staying, but I missed her. I’m going to give it another shot today, then I’m giving up. Right now I feel like giving up the coffee business for good.”
“That’s rather extreme, isn’t it?”
“Not from where I’m standing. I’ll call you later.”
“I’ll be here. Just for the record, Parker, I’m not calling Kiki. The last thing in the world I would do is step on Annie’s toes. She drew the line in the sand a long time ago, and I’m not crossing it. If you want some advice, and I know you didn’t ask for it, I would go to my sister with my tail between my legs and apologize. Get her one of those damn pocketbooks. Gifts always help. If you’re going to apologize, sound like you mean it.”
Parker hung up the phone, his head buzzing. Maybe Tom was right. Maybe the pocketbooks had something to do with this whole mess.
He hopped in his jeep for the short ride to the airport and his private plane. Forty-five minutes later he set down on the Big Island and stepped into his waiting jeep, driven by one of the workers from the coffee plantation.
“Drive me to the mall, Andy. E. Puainako at Highway Eleven. Park in front of Liberty House.”
The minute Parker stepped into the department store he knew he was out of his depth. His gaze swiveled around the store. “Can I help you, sir?”
Relieved, Parker nodded. “I need to buy a . . . Chanel pocketbook.”
The clerk smiled. “Straight down and make a left. Someone will help you in leather goods.”
Parker eyed the purses on the glass shelf. Brown, black, white, beige. “Is this all you have?” he asked the clerk.
“Yes, sir. What were you looking for?”
“A pocketbook,” Parker said brilliantly.
“Do you have a color preference?” the clerk said.
Did he? Did Kiki? Probably, but since he didn’t know what it was, he had to make a decision. “I’ll take them all.”
“You want them all?” the woman gasped. “Are you sure, sir?”
“I’m sure. Could you hurry it up?”
“I have to get the boxes and wrap them. It’s going to take a while.”
“I don’t have a while. Can’t you just put them in bags?”
“Women like the Chanel boxes, sir, and the felt bag to store the purse in. These are not Woolworth plastic bags,” she said huffily.
“You can send the boxes and the bags later,