“Please, there’s no need to become alarmed. Your lease doesn’t expire until the end of September, so you’ll have plenty of time to relocate.”
Christy Joy’s eyes filled with tears. “Where does he expect us to go?”
“That’s really not his concern, Mrs. Jennings.”
Darcy couldn’t help but take this disaster personally. “Is he pissed that I failed to recognize his name?”
“I doubt Mr. Moore ever becomes pissed, Ms. MacLeod, but he’s not a vindictive man, I assure you.”
Darcy just shook her head. “Son-of-a-bitch. Why doesn’t he build a recording studio in that mausoleum he calls home? Why does it have to be here?”
Jess Stevens straightened. He wore a navy blue suit and brushed a crumb he’d missed from his lapel. “That’s his privilege, Ms. MacLeod. Now, I suggest that you and Mrs. Jennings begin making plans to relocate.”
“This isn’t a shoe store where we can load up the boxes and cart them down the street,” Darcy shot right back at him. “We’ve created a whole world here.”
“It’s a beautiful world at that,” Stevens added. “My wife loves to shop here.”
“Well, that’s a comfort,” Christy Joy sobbed. “What are we going to do, Darcy?”
“First, we’re going to tell Mr. Stevens good-bye. Why don’t you take a couple of rolls home for your wife? Christy, will you wrap them up, please?”
“Why, thank you.” Stevens shifted his weight from foot to foot while he waited, then took the green bag and, with an apologetic smile, hurried away.
Darcy sank onto the floor. “Maybe we ought to hire our own attorney.”
Christy Joy wiped her eyes on the lace hanky she kept in her pinafore pocket. “I was married to J. Lyle long enough to know there would be no point in that. If only we’d been able to buy the property last fall before Mr. Moore decided to move here. He might have sold it to us.”
“He doesn’t strike me as the reasonable sort,” Darcy fumed. “You sew. Can you make a voodoo doll? We could stick pins in its hands and ruin his career.”
“That doesn’t make any sense, Darcy. Then he’d stay here in Monarch Bay rather than tour, and I want him out of town permanently.”
Darcy propped her elbows on her knees and rested her head in her hands. “We’re doing better every month, but there’s no way we can save enough to lease another building, completely redecorate and move. We can’t use just any building, anyway. We need outdoor space for the nursery. We’re screwed.”
Christy Joy leaned over the counter to look down at Darcy. “Maybe not. We have nearly six months to come up with a plan.”
“It’s not a plan we need. It’s money,” Darcy argued.
“Moore’s rich, isn’t he?”
“What do you want to do, guilt him into paying for our move?”
Darcy had used all her savings, while Christy Joy had spent her divorce settlement to go into business. Things had been going so well, and now she felt as though they’d run full tilt into a brick wall.
She struggled to push herself up off the floor. “We didn’t call ourselves the Defy the World Tomatoes for nothing, but I’ll be damned if I know what to do.”
“I can’t work any harder,” Christy Joy complained. “I’m already exhausted. It’s a good thing Twink and I live upstairs, or I’d never get into work on time.”
“Let’s play Scarlett O’Hara and worry about this tomorrow,” Darcy said. “Then at least we’ll be able to get through today.”
Christy Joy began nibbling on a caramel roll. “Did you have breakfast?”
“Yes, and it’s a good thing too, because I sure couldn’t eat now.”
For the rest of the morning, Darcy smiled until her cheeks ached, but none of that forced sunshine reached her heart. For a few months, she’d had the job of her dreams, but now she could feel it slipping through her fingers.
George Kimble prided himself on his ability to read a face. It was a skill he’d refined over his teaching career, but that day a stranger could have glanced at Darcy’s goofy smile and known something had gone wrong. He eased himself down onto the tall stool behind the nursery cash register and nudged her with his elbow.
“Want to tell me about it?” he asked.