Chapter 18 #2
“Sexy?” Carson knew he should’ve focused on the other parts of what she said, but he couldn’t help it. He was nothing if not a red-blooded male in the presence of someone who definitely got his engine running.
Liz jumped out of her chair. “Are you freaking kidding me right now?”
“What? You’re the one who said I’m sexy.”
“Yeah, well…” Liz huffed, and her expression went through an interesting series of sneers, jeers, and nose wrinkles.
Carson pressed his lips together, trying hard not to show how much he was enjoying her discomfort. He wasn’t sure how successful he was.
Liz poked a finger toward his side of the room.
“Sitting over there like you have every right to come back into town and throw a gigantic monkey wrench into my life and then you have the nerve to pull out those glasses which should make you look like a gigantic nerd but make you look even better than you usually look…I mean, it’s not fair! ”
“Sorry for inheriting my dad’s eyesight?”
“Gah!”
A quick knock on the door was followed by Arnold’s head peeking into the room. “Everything okay in here?”
“So far,” Carson said, while Liz spat out a “Yes!”
“Oh. Okay. Good.” Arnold gave them a rather stilted smile. “It was getting a little loud back here.
Carson gave his uncle a reassuring grin. “We’re fine. Aren’t we, Liz?”
Liz’s nostrils flared, but she nodded. “Absolutely.”
Concern lingered in Arnold’s eyes as he glanced back and forth between them. “We can definitely go back to the previous arrangement. Have the two of you work separately.”
“Not necessary.” Carson wasn’t quite sure why he didn’t opt for the original plan. Didn’t go ahead and tell Liz to come up with her own ideas and tell his uncle he was leaving today and he’d get in touch when he figured out how to sell the business.
Arnold sagged with relief. “Thank goodness. I’m glad you decided to put your heads together on this.
I didn’t want to suggest it what with all the past history.
But I think between you you’ll figure things out.
I know selling or closing would be the easy options, but this town is important to me.
And this company is important to the town.
I shudder to think what new owners might do.
Or of what would happen without the company altogether.
” Arnold shook his head. “Not that the town wouldn’t survive without us, of course.
But we pay our fair share of taxes. I’m sure you’ve run the employee numbers and what we add to the local economy. ”
“Yes, we have.” A smug smile stretched across Liz’s face. “At least I have.”
Carson let one of his eyebrows slide upward, but Liz ignored him.
“But your nephew doesn’t seem to have quite the same grasp on the situation.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll explain it to him.” Arnold’s eyes flashed with something that looked like inspiration. “Or you could show him.”
“Show him what?” Liz asked, her eyes darting nervously between Arnold and Carson.
“The town.”
“She did. In Etta May’s golf cart. Yesterday.” Surely Arnold hadn’t forgotten that already. Crap, his uncle wasn’t going senile, was he?
Arnold waved his words away. “Yes, but I mean more than just a tour. Show him why we should keep investing in the town. What brings people here. What might entice new workers. Or new businesses. Why this is a good place to do business.”
“But we really do have a lot of work to do here—”
“Yes,” Arnold agreed, cutting off Liz’s argument. “And I can’t think of a better way to show off the town than by taking in its festivals. Talking to the townsfolk. Numbers and papers will only get you so far. Besides, fresh air does wonders for me when I need to think.”
“Well I, for one, think Liz showing me around the festival is a great idea.” Not only would it placate his uncle, but it would give Carson more time to win her over to his idea of selling the whole damn thing and being done with it.
Plus, judging by the daggers Liz was shooting at him, she wasn’t all that fond of the idea of playing tour guide yet again, which meant it would probably piss her off.
Pissed-off Liz was just so freaking entertaining.
“Great!” Arnold beamed at them. “I’m sure the two of you will come to some sort of fantastic solution.”
“Absolutely. Fantastic,” Carson echoed. The glee at poking Liz’s buttons was replaced by the uncomfortable feeling that wriggled in his stomach as he contemplated the future of his uncle’s business.
“And if the two of you will be there anyway,” Arnold added, “would you be willing to man the booth for a bit?”
“The booth?” Carson echoed. What booth?
“Our booth,” his uncle said. “For the Digit Defender. Shorty got bronchitis and Cliff’s wife’s aunt died and they’re out of town for the funeral, so the Croonafellas asked me to fill in.”
Carson blinked. “The Croonafellas?”
Enthusiasm flashed in his uncle’s eyes as he nodded. “I’ve been on their waiting list for a couple of years now. This is my big break!”
Far be it from Carson to stand in the way of his uncle’s Croonafella dream. “Sure. Consider it done.”
After all, knowing what he’d likely have to do to the business, he needed all the good graces from his uncle he could muster.