Fourth Comings_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [45]
Maybe I would feel more okay about accepting Bethany’s money if she had earned it herself and wasn’t married to half the mastermind behind the Wally D’s Sweet Treat Shoppe/Papa D’s Donuts empire. I once made the mistake of referring to their money as Grant’s money and she didn’t talk to me for several weeks. I know better than to say it twice, even though I think it all the time. And yet Bethany must be aware of the awkwardness of our current patron/pauper relationship. She must know that if it weren’t for her generosity, I’d be maxing out my credit card on ramen and stealing rolls of toilet paper from public restrooms.
Or (shudder!) living in Pineville with my parents.
Lately she has repeatedly tried to persuade me to join the family business—a more legitimate and less humiliating form of handout. Her recruiting went a little too far last time, when she basically asked me to be a corporate whore for her hubby’s empire. And I mean that as figuratively as figurative can go before it turns literal.
twenty-nine
“Try this on,” Bethany said, without further explanation.
“What is it?”
“It’s adorable, that’s what it is.”
It was a tiny T-shirt with two lip-smacking rainbow-sprinkled donuts encircling each breast.
“DONUT HO’?”
“It’s a play on words!” Bethany offered unnecessarily. “We’ll debut the new uniform with the launch of Papa D’s newest treat….” Shegrandly gestured at the plate set before us, on which there was an assortment of glazed, chocolate dipped, and sprinkled treats, the kind that PapaD’s most famous competitor has copyrighted as Munchkins. “DONUTHO’s! Get it?”
I got it, all right. I got that I wouldn’t have to perform the sort of sordid acts that my XXX namesake, Jessica Darling the porn star, is famous for. But I would be expected to wear a uniform that hints that I just might perform such acts if the price was right.
“I don’t see what the T-shirt has to do with me. You told me Grantwanted me for a job in marketing…or something.”
“Junior Vice President of Branding.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Grant needs bright, attractive women like you to tour target cities like Atlantic City, Vegas, Reno, maybe Los Angeles….”
“Wearing this?” I asked.
“Well, of course. We need you to meet with potential investors. We’re trying to penetrate an untapped market….”
“In this T-shirt, the untapped market will want to penetrate me.”
“Of course,” Bethany replied, not getting the joke. “This is a chance to see major growth in new regions….”
“Major growth in the nether regions.
” Then I let her finish for the next five minutes, during which I learned that Grant and Wally D’Abruzzi had even been bestowed the honor of “Best New Franchisers” in Capitalist magazine, with new Shoppes opening up all over the country, including some in the unchartered territories of the South and Midwest. And yet there was always room for improvement. Apparently, Papa D’s Donuts “exceeded sales projections” in the suburbs. It merely “met projections” in the exurbs. But it “underperformed” in urban areas. My brother-in-law was always looking for new ways to bump himself up to the top 99.99 percent of earners from his current 99.9 percent position, so this underperforming just wouldn’t do.
It was a vexing question: How could he increase customer traffic in the urban areas, where one could get coffee and handheld carbohydrates on just about any block? The solution, according to my brother-in-law and my sister, was simple: sex.
“Why do guys go to Hooters?” Bethany asked.
“Hot wings, hot chicks.”
“Exactly!”
“So…pastries and prostitutes?”
“We won’t employ prostitutes,” Bethany said matter-of-factly.
“You’ll employ girls to look like prostitutes….”
“And provide peerless customer service,” my sister added.
“A lap dance with every latte!” I volunteered mock helpfully.
“Hmm.” Bethany pensively tapped her manicure on the countertop. “I think it would violate the city’s cabaret laws….”
She was still dead serious. This reveals an elemental cause of all our miscommunication.