At Wick's End - Tim Myers [39]
“Hang on. Ann Marie, you’ve got me wrong. I don’t have any bad habits, at least not any of the ones you mentioned. The worst thing I do is drink right out of the milk carton without bothering with a glass. Okay, I’ve been known to dog-ear the page of a book now and then, but I’m trying to break that habit, believe me.”
“So what happened to the cash?”
I said, “I was boneheaded enough to leave it in my truck when I went into the library, and somebody broke the window and stole it.”
Ann Marie looked thrilled by the revelation. “So you’re just careless. We can work on that. I’ve had a bad run of luck lately with my clients, and I’m glad you’re not going to be adding to the mix. I just found out one of my clients in Conover is drinking his way into an early grave and stealing from his business to cover things up with his wife. I don’t even want to talk about Max Bleeker being murdered. I don’t know how I’ll ever get over that.”
“Who’s Max Bleeker?”
She said, “He ran his own jewelry store.” Ann Marie sighed. “But let’s stick to your problems, Harrison. We’ve got enough on our plate here without dragging the rest of this part of North Carolina in on things.”
“Ann Marie, I’ve beaten myself up about what happened more than anyone else could. Mr. Young told me how thin a tightrope I’m walking here. It won’t happen again.”
She said, “I believe you, Harrison. It makes a difference when it’s your own money, doesn’t it? I don’t know that things are all that dire, though; there’s a real chance you’ll be able to make this work. That’s funny, Lucas isn’t usually so cynical. Our bad streak of luck must be getting to him too.” She clapped her hands together once, then said, “Now let’s take a look at the books and teach you the ins and outs of this candle shop.”
By the time we were finished, my head was swimming with numbers, schedules, tax payments and property valuations. I stood and stretched. “Bottom line, how are we doing?”
“Getting by, I’d say,” she said after thinking about it a moment. “You’re doing about as well as can be expected here, given the fact that Belle didn’t believe in advertising. There’s enough to pay Eve and keep your inventory going, shoot, we could probably bump you a few dollars above what Belle was pulling in, but I wouldn’t be planning any trips to Europe if I were you.”
“As long as we’re not bankrupt, I’m happy. You should know I’m planning an ad campaign myself, and we’ve also got a star customer who should help the bottom line.”
Ann Marie smiled and said, “Don’t tell me, Mrs. Jorgenson has finally discovered At Wick’s End.”
“How’d you know that?”
“Oh, please, I do the books for several crafters around here. Mrs. Jorgenson is a legend in your circles. I’m glad things are going well for you.”
“As well as can be expected, given the circumstances. As long as you’re using black ink and not red, I’m thrilled.”
Ann Marie said, “You’re easy to please, aren’t you?
Do you have any questions I can answer in the meantime?”
“Yes. When’s payday? I’ve got enough to hold me for a while, but it might help to know how long my nest egg has to stretch before I draw a salary.”
She reached into her purse and pulled out two yellow envelopes. “I love getting questions I can answer. I come by every other Monday with your checks. This is the good Monday.” She handed me both checks, then added, “Your draw is tied into the store’s profits, so it varies. Eve gets a straight salary. If that doesn’t work for you, we can always change it. Now if you’ll give Eve’s check to her, I’ll get over to The Yarn Barn. I’m meeting Lucas Young for a counseling session. We can offer a lot of advice as a package deal, and a great many folks take advantage of it.”
“Thanks Ann Marie, I appreciate the lesson today.”
She smiled broadly. “You’re paying for it, Harrison. Call me any time. Except after 5 pm, or on weekends. I’m off on Wednesdays, so that’s