“Bye,” Topaz whispered, wriggling her fingers before walking away.
Alex’s gorgeous deep-set gaze raked over her curvaceous figure several times before he removed her card from his pocket. Rubbing his strong fingers across the raised black lettering on the gray card, he smiled.
TWO
“You just don’t know how much money you could make doing this... .”
Topaz leaned back against the cushioned hunter-green armchair she occupied. Folding her arms across the front of the white crew-neck, open-backed T-shirt, she listened to Alfred Majors ramble on about his hopes for their businesses to merge.
“I just don’t know how I can get you to realize how profitable this would—what?” he asked, when Topaz began to shake her head.
Topaz appeared relaxed and mellow, as the jazz band’s airy tune wafted through the air. The aura of the sparsely filled club kept her cool and lovely when she felt the urge to scream in frustration.
“You’re spending perfectly good money in this wonderful place to hear me turn you down, again,” she said, fiddling with a bouncing curl as she spoke. “Hear me, Alfred. I have no desire to merge anything with you.”
Alfred clutched his brandy snifter in a viselike hold. “Do you know what this could do for your business?”
“Nothing,” Topaz sweetly answered. “My customers come to get their cars towed and fixed. They aren’t thinking about having them washed in the finest wax or adorned with costly accessories.”
“Maybe they should.”
“Or maybe you should think about opening your own store,” she softly suggested.
Alfred seemed appalled by the advice. “Do you know how expensive that is? I—”
“Ahh, so after all this time we finally hit the nail on the head,” Topaz interrupted, her voice never rising. “You’re just too cheap to get a building to sell that crap.”
“Topaz. you’ve got a prime market, a prime location to make this a very profitable venture,” Alfred continued to argue.
Topaz felt her lashes flutter from frustration. “You don’t have to tell me how prime my location is, Alfred. That’s one of the reasons my business is so successful. But you’re wasting your time and you will continue to do so until you understand that I am not interested.”
“Does it make you feel good to be so difficult?”
“Does it make you feel good to be so conniving?” The frown darkening Alfred’s light brown face turned more sinister. “Conniving?”
“Mmm,” Topaz confirmed, sipping from her glass of spring water, “you don’t care about making me money, Alfred, admit it. You want to sell your wares in my store, make your huge stash, and then leave taking a good portion of the new customers you’ll bring in who’ll patronize my shop as a result. No, thanks, I’m doing just fine with the loyal customers I have now. No need to get excited by a few new ones who’ll only use my services because I just happen to be in the vicinity.”
Alfred pounded his fist on the table. “You are extremely naive. I can’t believe you’ve been in business so long. Who in their right mind would turn down the possibility of new customers, regardless of their reasons for utilizing your services?”
“One who knows how you operate,” Topaz countered, tossing her heavy waist-length locks across her shoulder as she leaned forward. “Isn’t it true that I’m your last shot? You’ve had plenty of opportunities to make this side store of yours a reality, but when talk of contracts or lengthy commitment is broached, you take your offer elsewhere. Isn’t that true, Mr. Majors?”
Alfred was angry and guilty. Refusing to accept being bested by Topaz, he stood. “You were right. This has been a waste of my time,” he decided, tossing his napkin to the table.
Topaz smoothed her hands along her bare arms and smiled. “Told you,” she sang.
Alfred held a clenched jaw as he reached into his wallet.
Topaz barely raised her hand from the table. “Save it,” she said, “I know how tight things are.”
Alfred’s small eyes narrowed dangerously. Visibly offended, he grumbled something inaudible and stormed away from the table. He stomped right past Alex, who had witnessed the end of the conversation.
Alex’s light, uncommon gaze grew stormy as well as it followed the man who exited the soft-lit club.
Topaz sipped on a rum and Coke while humming in tune with the sax piece that played. She was reaching for a menu when she looked and saw Alex. Her smile instantly appeared.
“Good afternoon,” she greeted.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his mood not so joyous.
“Sure, I’m—Oh. You saw that, huh?” she asked, glancing toward the exit Alfred Majors had taken.
Alex folded his arms across the front of his black knit crew shirt. “Uh-huh. Didn’t look like a nice conversation,” he drily noted.
Topaz sighed. “It wasn’t. I was turning down an offer.”
“Ah ...” Alex replied with a nod as he stepped closer. “Now I understand why homeboy was so mad.”
Topaz giggled and wriggled her fingers. “It was business.”
“I still can’t get over that,” Alex remarked with a slow smirk.
“Get over what?”
“You. Owning a garage,” he admitted, watching her closely. “I hope that didn’t offend you.”
“Course not, but you know a woman owning a garage really isn’t so uncommon these days.”
“True,” Alex acknowledged, as he reached for the remaining menu. “Still, I’ve never met anyone who owned a garage and looked the way you do.”
