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The blonde looked down at the open crate that sat nestled between two other crates on her counter within her newest business endeavour. One crate held raspberries, the other, strawberries and the third, middle one--blueberries. The strawberries were manageable and savable, but the raspberries would be lucky to be used in half the tarts Elizabeth had planned to make. As for the blueberries...Elizabeth could not even find a handful to use. If they were not damaged, than what was left had some fuzz growing upon them, indicating that they were too old to use.

Her sapphire colored orbs bore down at the crate in front of her, before Elizabeth went to work 'saving' the raspberries. The strawberries tucked away in the large refrigerator in the baking area, while the blueberries found a new home in the garbage after one final glare of disgust. This was the problem with climate such as these...not that England was better back in her human years. However, Elizabeth understood the lands far better and the seasons seemed to be 'stable.' Currently, in Harper Rock, and perhaps other places in the world; one day could be warm and inviting, the next it may snow, and the following rain. How on earth could any person grow something in conditions such as these?

Which was why the woman had ordered from a warmer climate...Chile. Elise had suggested it months ago, and Elizabeth finally conceded and placed her order, then signed a sixth month contract with the owners. “I am not paying for wasted blueberries. A stern nod followed, before Elizabeth riffled through her emails through her Telepath powers. When the email was found, and number retrieved, Elizabeth plucked her phone off the counter behind her and made a call. What time was it in Chile? She had no idea, but if Elizabeth were asked, she would say she did not care. She was not paying for damaged and unusable goods.

A woman's voice came on the line after a few rings, and Elizabeth calmly explained the problem. “I do not see why I should have to pay for anything, when it was you who failed to deliver the berries in a proper crate, and in a timely manner. What on earth will I do with fifty pounds of spoiled berries?” Elizabeth asked, her foot tapping on the ground as the phone was put down and she allowed the speaker phone to work for her, while she washed her hands and prepared crusts for the tarts she could made. “Then I would like my money back. I am not satisfied. I am an unhappy customer, and that means that I am not paying for these berries.” Elizabeth said while she rolled the tart crust out flat on the metal surface that had been sprinkled with flour. “No-I am not paying and I am not fulfilling my contract with thee. What an absurd notion.” She emphasize firmly, before the woman started reviewing the contract that Elizabeth had signed. “I know what the contract states, but it does not state that you will give me berries that are spoiled.” The woman kept talking over Elizabeth, or interjecting her, so the woman gave up. “Do not send me anymore of your worthless berries. I will not be using them.” Elizabeth said, rather unhappily, as the disconnected the call with her mind.

Each crust that had been made to size was placed within a ceramic pie tin, before Elizabeth went about making what she would after washing the fruits she could use. There would be no 'tart conversation' tonight, or anything else that required more than what her traditional pies would make. And just as Elizabeth was done putting a top crust on her tarts, that was when a thought struck her. She remembered a conversation about farming and berries with Louvel. Hadn't he said something about growing berries on, or close to his property? In fact...Elizabeth had the fortunate experience of tasting some of what was grown on his lands just last week. Perhaps, it was time to look at other berries, she thought, as Elizabeth washed her hands and made the call.

Elizabeth “Betty” Tate waited while the hand crafted wood crate in front of her dangled from her hooked fingers. Patiently she stood there like a permanent fixture in the doorway of the Keeper’s Harvest on site office. Since her boss arrived back to the farm there were non-stop phone calls and shipments rolling in the converted farmhouse to business center front door. She wanted to tell the guy that she finally figured out the most efficient way to build the eco-friendly crates herself without having to spend extra having them mass made and shipped to them. The best part was that the materials were all salvaged from his property which should make him happy given his business philosophy. Once he was free to hear about it that is.

“Can you have the shipment here by Friday?” Louvel watched the IP video phone screen that he used for most of his current business calls. All he wanted was some sign that what he asked for was not entirely out of question given it was already Monday. “I am in Canada. Fresh fruit given our growing season is too far out for me to keep people happy at the first sign of Spring. Canned products doesn’t cut it. I am trying to sell what I have down there but I need it up here to do it.”

He leaned back in the black office chair and allowed the reply from Vonda in California to come at him. A stretch of his long leg falling over the other had well worn faded denim meeting and the chair rocking back deeper than he expected. A sudden grasp for the floor to the left of him with his long fingers had him bobbing back and forth until his boots dropped back down flat and claimed the Moroccan carpet beneath the soles. Betty was ready like any worthwhile spotter beneath a tightrope. The crate was dropped and her hands sent the back of the chair forward sending her boss in fast forward motion bellying up to the conference desk in front of him.

“Hang in there, Lou.” Vonda was clearly amused while Lou clawed at the papers in front of him to stay put. “I can try to get your truck there by Friday. I can’t promise it won’t be dark by the time the driver reaches you but will see what I can do. You know we would be happy to add a few acres to your growing space if that will accommodate you in the future. Business sounds like it is doing well.”
“ I will look into it. See if the numbers call for more. My goal is local grown. Even if they are my seeds down there.”

Without checking to see what was going on a second woman enters the office alert enough to hop over the newly crafted wooden crate abandoned in the doorway. A ice pick in hand is offered up for proof which leaves Louvel no choice but to acknowledge it positioned in front of his face and blocking the View of Vonda.

“They no longer make them. You have the last batch and the replacement parts for them just sold out. Sounds like we need to switch suppliers if you want to get the upcoming trips outfitted.” Hope Velasquez finally acknowledged Betty and mouthed ‘lunch’ with a questioning expression.
“I will take care of it, thanks.” The icepick was in his hand and quickly filed under the table. “Sorry about that, Vonda.” He leaned forward prepared to finish up the call and put out the other fires popping up. “I will be ready Friday.”
“Sounds good.” Vonda was still visible sorting through her own papers on her desk.
“Hey, V.” Jane was curious as an alley full of cats and it showed as she leaned over the back of the chair with a wide grin. “How is the weather?”
“Hey…” Louvel was pushing his chair away from the table while still seated. “You mind getting back to work? Vonda is indoors like the rest of us.”
“I was just wanting to know.” His Odyssey employee’s face soured up quickly. “Calm, man.”
“Then look it up.” The flashing red light of another call coming in blinked. He reached a finger forward to tap it to hold when two more below lit up. “I got calls coming in, Vonda. Will talk to you Friday.” He pressed the current call to end and looked to the two standing in the room with him. “You two care to answer those calls.”
“You need a secretary. I craft things.” The wooden crate was nudged up on the table in front of him. “She is in sales next door. And we are heading to lunch. You be nice and productive and we will bring you something back.”

Louvel barely got out of his seat when he heard the front door open then close. The sound of multiple calls coming in had his hand reaching forward for the receiver and tapping the line button that lit up first. They were right. He really needed to hire a secretary.

“Keeper’s Harvest.” Standing around seemed pointless so he slid right back into the chair he had been sitting in.

Elizabeth hadn't expected for Louvel to pick up the phone himself. Nowadays most people had people to do the small and mundane tasks for them. But, Elizabeth knew it was him, simply because of the tone and inflection in his voice. Once upon a time, the Telepath woman had debated on making him a thrall, until she found out that he was a relation to Alaric and those plans; as much as Elizabeth regretted it, had gone to the wayside. Regrettably, at the time. Elizabeth had come to discover after a few more encounters that enthralling him would not have been the best tactic or approach. In essence, Elizabeth preferred his freedom. It was slightly contagious and she were perhaps even envious of it.

"Good evening, Mister Von Der Marck." Elizabeth started out, eyes cast down at the berries. "I do not know if one remembers me, but we met before. A few times." Elizabeth started, as her eyes moved away from the berries and to the crusts she had sitting there, empty. "I have a small dilemma. One in which I hope you can help me with." She sighed, turning her back from both the berries and the tarts. "I received a shipment from a...vani-no, vendor, yes a vendor." Elizabeth struggled to think about the right word to use, not familiar with the term yet. "And they...are simply stated-garbage. I cannot use them for my tarts."

The woman set her mobile phone down on the counter and placed it on the speaker phone option, so she could throw away the berries and place the crusts in the large refrigerator in an attempt to salvage those. "I am hoping one has some blueberries, strawberries,--honestly, any berries for sale upon them. Immediately." Elizabeth finished as a crate of berries found their way into the large grey bin she had for trash and within the kitchen. "I would pay a handsome price for them-short notice of my needs. It is understandable that they may be a bit more." Elizabeth stilled in front of the metal table and phone, shifting the weight upon her right foot, as arms crossed at her chest.

As soon as he heard the voice his body sort of bobbed forward from the mid-recline he was intending. Truthfully it was the last voice he expected coming in the receiver of the phone he had cradled aginst his ear thanks to his shoulder. His hands straightened up the papers in front of him that were still less of a neat stack than he was comfortable with especially now that it was Elizabeth calling. His sun worshipping fingers tapped at the edges of the numerous orders and invoices lining them up while she explained her predicament. As soon as released them into the bin that was for what would be dealt with later she finished with a business proposition which piqued his interest.

“How could I forget you, Ms…” Now that he was about to reciprocate with her addressing him with his surname he realized he had yet to have knowledge of her own. “Elizabeth.” So that was a bit awkward to say over the phone.

They crossed paths more than a few times. She also had the uncanny ability to sink into his thoughts and make her interest or message known, or whatever it was that telepaths did, pretty much like Alaric was capable of doing rather well. Apparently this was all business and he could roll with it accordingly.

“It seems unfortunate that a vendor would fail at delivering what you rely on for your business.”

Good thing it was not the typical video screen call he was used to when going about calls in his office. He licked his lips as the whole idea of his berries going into her tarts came to mind. It was sounding profitable especially when she expressed her need but it was more than that. Louvel had a thing for her tarts. It hit him hard at first taste. She knew just what what went into making one memorable and he was sort of hooked. His eyes rolled upward to the ceiling while his free hand plamed his forehead then slid back over the top of his head. Upstairs in the kitchen there had to be two or three fresh ones that he had been looking forward to. That is unless a particular woman who resided near the very same kitchen had another case of the midnight munchies.

“I just finished a call with my out of season grower in California who arranged a truck to be here by Friday at the latest. All assortments are to be onboard. However, I think I may have a possible solution.”

Just as he said it he thought of something and quickly reached for the stack of papers in the ‘to be dealt with later’ bin in front of him. The current shipment still on teh premesis that had not been delivered to the surrounding areas was an early arrival. He could meet her needs with what he had on hand and the Friday delivery would be arriving in time to meet the scheduled date for the business it was supposed to go to.

“My prices will not change based on your sudden need. Your future business is more than enough motivation to get you set up with what it takes to keep those tarts on your shelves.” The rustling of several papers ended when he found the confirmations he was looking for. “I have twenty pallets available. Each pallet has 120 boxes of fresh berries. The mix I have right now to offer is white and golden raspberry, strawberry, blueberry and blackberry. Friday I have cherry, lemon and apples arriving along with more of what I have right now. Just tell me what you want and where you want it.” He pulled out the laptop and fired up the business programs that kept his shipments and clients more organized than the paper bin on his desk.

There was hesitation on how to address her, which made her smile lightly. While Elizabeth was privy to some of Louvel's information, he was not so lucky in that respect. A precautionary measure at first, but upon more encounters, Elizabeth had not given her last name, simply because it had not come up at any point. He was sympathetic, perhaps. If not sympathetic, then Louvel understood Elizabeth's predicament and how the berry mishap just would not do for her business endeavours.

As Louvel spoke, Elizabeth listened as to not miss anything, and as he spoke more, she felt herself frowning. Friday, just would not do. She had no berries to put inside her tarts now. How could she satisfy the demand and need tonight, and tomorrow without berries? “I see.” The blonde telepath said slowly, understanding his predicament. What could she honestly expect on such short notice?

There was the sound of jostling on the other end, and his prolonged silence, which kept the woman on the line. Thankfully, she had not thanked him for his time then and there, and hung up to search for other alternatives, because it seemed to her, that Louvel had a glimmer of silver lining within his pockets for her. The admission of future business in return for not charging Elizabeth double, or potentially triple piqued her curiosity, as she listened thoughtfully.

Twenty pallets was mentioned, her eyes growing large. She was a small bakery, and went through, at best...ten pallets at the ratio he was speaking of. Blackberries were an interesting notion, and one that she would take. Blueberries were needed and she may as well add to what she could salvage in regards to the raspberries. Friday's shipment sounded promising as well; offering something different to her pre-existing tarts. At Louvel's final train of thought, Elizabeth blinked and then let the tip of her tongue drag across her bottom lip in thought. After a quick slid of her tongue over dry lips, Elizabeth finally spoke. “The blackberries, blueberries and raspberries for now. Perhaps the lemons and apples on Friday?” Her voice held a minor tint of questioning, before she expanded. “I will take a pallet of your blackberries, two pallets of your raspberries, and three of your blueberries. On Friday, I will take two pallets of apples, and one of your lemons. Should the lemons go over well, then I will of course order more...if that is agreeable.” Her voice was firm, but soft in the sense that she knew what she wanted, but was aware of the potentially delicate situation at hand. The one that involved him doing more work, on shorter notice. “As to where I need your berries...” The woman looked around her kitchen, swallowed softly and clutched the phone tighter as her eyes bounced from one area to another. “Perhaps that is something we can figure out when you arrive? My shop is in the clocktower near coastside? You know the name, as it is stamped upon the box. Speaking of...did you enjoy your latest tart?” Elizabeth asked, the woman once again turning towards the metal counter, awaiting his response.

“Sounds doable.”

Louvel’s fingers went about entering the information required to get the orders and shipments rearranged by quickly tapping the keyboard beneath faster than he usually would. He shifted his shoulder so that the receiver of the phone was more comfortable. It felt awkward at best. Usually he wasn’t holding the phone during business and was doing the whole I-see-you-and-you-see-me conference instead. In this case he was getting the Queen of Tarts business without advance notice so it wasn’t exactly the time to be focusing on his preferences for business communication.

“One blackberry, two raspberry and three blueberry. Friday you will get two apple and one lemon.” A few sudden firm taps of the keys had the orders ready. “I remember where it is at. I think I can use the same service entrance I used for the shop a couple doors down from yours. If not I will get my berries in there one way or another.” He started closing down the programs that he was using briefly and stood up while the office computer went back to sleep. “I will be there in an hour tops.” He figured that was cutting it close but prompt service was a huge selling point for him and it kept his customers happy. “The tart was unforgettable. Any chance of picking up another?” He was prepared to wait for her response when he spotted lights flashing and moving in the distance where his truck was supposedly not in use.”I need to catch something quick if I am going to make it there on time. See you soon!”

The receiver was shoved back in place and he bolted like there was a fire straight for the front door. Just as he flung the door open he spots his truck starting to back out of the drive way. As fast as his feet could carry him he sprinted towards the worn and heavily used vehicle waving his hands as if he was going to be noticed the faster his arms flapped. The brake lights flashed as the truck stopped all to his immediate relief. He slowed down to a walk confident that was close but thankfully he would be coming through on his delivery. Then the painful grind of gears getting back to work signaled the truck was once again on the move.

“H-E-Y!” He whistled loud as his feet moved. “S-T-O-P!”

No such luck for the owner. The truck kept right on going. Whoever was at the wheel sure wasn’t in a hurry because he was able to catch up with the back of it. He wasted no time while grabbing a hold of the tailgate. With the firm grip of his hands he was able to kick up and swing himself up into the back. Climbing over the lawn servicing equipment and general tools to keep the manor grounds groomed he finally was able to lean over and take a look in the conveniently open driver’s side window. Of course it was none other than his field manager Buddy.

“Buddy!”

When he barked his employee’s name he wasn’t anticipating that he would startle the guy as much as he did or he would have held onto the door frame and braced himself. The truck came to a complete stop. Because of that he was catapulted forward over the roof, bouncing off hood and landing into the beams of lights shining brightly on the road ahead.

“Boss!” The sounds of panic filled his ears as hands started tugging on his body to get a reaction.
“I’m okay. It’s…” His skin despite the healthy golden tone was more like the covering of an armadillo. Rock like in fact. “Fine. I am good. Glad I caught you. I need you to unload the truck.” He pointed at it as he found his feet. “Get all of that out of there so I can load some pallets of berries in the back and make a delivery tonight.” He dusted himself off and adjusted his torn shirt.
"Your shirt is torn to hell but you aren't bleeding?" Of course Buddy would notice.
"I got a thick skin." Instead of standing there debating how much truth was in what he said he climbed into the driver's seat and nodded for his best hand to get in.

Louvel repeated her impromptu order, Elizabeth confirming his repeat back once he was done speaking. "That is correct." The comment about his berries raised a brow, before the petite blonde cast a sideways glance to her tart crusts that had no berries. Business would be slow this evening, and people would be unhappy until Louvel delivered his berries for her tarts. "I shall see thee soon." Elizabeth acknowledged his haste with a polite ending, before she hung up the phone on her end.

With that taken care of, Elizabeth wiped her hands on her pink apron, then moved to the front of the shop to assess how bad the situation may become, if the berries were not delivered in time. In the cases were still some fruit tarts, with the exception of raspberry tarts. They had been a quick sale this morning, she had been told by one of her employees. It was just sheer luck that no one has requested another since then, but Elizabeth had found that most people were 'flexible,' with their taste buds. If they wanted a strawberry tart, and there was none, they typically opted for a berry tart of some description to appease that desire.

"Good evening." Elizabeth dipped her head cordially at the second customer in line; a woman that could not have been a day over twenty-five. "Do you have something...different? Not out here?" She asked, eyes swerving from one case, to another. The blonde vampiress glanced around herself, then leaned inwards so that she could lower her voice. "I have but a single nectarine tart. I wondered how they would fare...I would sell it to thee for half the cost, if you could give an honest and constructive review?" Elizabeth offered, leaning away from the back of the glass counters.

The woman who was now in front of Elizabeth; the case being the only thing obstructing her from Elizabeth, and vice versa, squinted her eyes in thought, looked at the tarts once again and then nodded. "Sure. Why not? For half the price? Definitely." As she opened her purse, Elizabeth moved to retrieve the tart that rested on the counter in the back, awaiting her staff's opinion on it, but forgoing it this once, to please the woman who had a taste for something different. The thought brought an amused and thoughtful smile to Elizabeth's lips as she boxed the tart up in a pink and white box, before moving back to the main part of the shop. "I do hope one finds what they are looking for in this tart." Elizabeth wished the woman a good rest of her night after returning her change for the tart she purchased. With the small crowed mostly taken care of, Elizabeth allowed her mind to wander the internet in pursuit of a new dress for an opera viewing in May, while wiping down the counters.

Louvel was cutting it close to the time he promised to deliver. Too close for his liking. With a well worn sole of his boot he pressed his foot down and gave the truck that was older than he was an extra jolt of gas. The passenger sharing the bench seat grabbed the strap of upholstery that dangled from the interior just inside the frame of the door above his head. When the free hand shot out with the extension of his left arm Louvel shook his head and gave an eye roll for acknowledgement.

“Relax.” The wheels kept rolling carrying the pallets of berries and their exhausted bodies towards the Clock Tower. “We are almost there.”
“Do you think we can hit the burger shack and pick something up? I need to eat.” Buddy was at the very least hopeful his boss would find it in him to do that despite the recent event that had the man wearing shreds for material on his arms and legs. “Again, I am really sorry. I was just going to get things ready for an early start in the morning.”

There was something to be said about Buddy. He was really one of the sweetest guys around. Almost too much for his own good. That of course played on Louvel’s wanting to keep him from becoming chewed up and spit out by the world around them. Both day and night. Buddy was what some would describe as a sandwich or two short of a full picnic basket. Nothing incapacitating or monumental. Just enough that people found it easy to get him to do things that most would see right through. Louvel sort of had him under his protective wing for that reason.

“I said it is cool. I am good.” Louvel glanced in the rear view mirror and was satisfied that the tarp was still secure over the delivery as it should be. The slow waving of the gray canvas had him thinking about the great outdoors. The lights had him looking to Buddy as he slowed for the intersection ahead. “You ever think about taking on the challenge of a summit?”
“Man, you sure you are okay?” He shook his head with a laugh. “I break out a sweat on the riding lawn mowers. They told me you would eventually ask.”
“Who?” The truck stopped briefly. Once the right of way was taken they were heading around to the service and delivery area he had used before.
“The ladies in the office.” Buddy offered up while letting go of what was in his hand. “Said you would try getting me to go on one of your expeditions. I got asthma. I have bad feet. I am afraid of heights. Any higher than the manor roof and I am out cold.”
“Then you are off the hook.” The truck did a turn then went into reverse and started backing up while Louvel stuck his head out of the window to be sure where he was going to end up. “What about white water rafting?”
“I can’t swim.” Buddy was quick to confess. “I would be the one to drown with a life jacket on.”
“Don’t be discouraged.” The abrupt pressing of the brake pedal had them jerking forward. Once the service vehicle was safely parked Louvel reached out to his left and opened the driver’s door. “We can work with all that.”

Buddy was pretty sure he was heading for disaster while he hopped out of the passenger side. Gloves in his hands went over his capable hands and small beads of sweat formed over his brows as he thought about all the ways he could die attempting the unthinkable. He wasn’t unrealistic. He knew his limits and they were far from those images that were framed in his boss's place on various walls and poised on surrounding surfaces. Bowling happened to be an extreme for him. Even then he had to be well into a strong bottle before he could keep the ball out of the channels.

“You open up the back and I will let her know we are here.”

Louvel left Buddy to do what he was trained to do and went about meeting up with Elizabeth. Finding the door open that he was relying on to be, he made his way through the first floor of the tower passing the various shops by. Realizing he had a set of work gloves in his hand he made fast work of stuffing them in his right back pocket just enough that they dangled out over the denim that held them otherwise in place. He pulled open the door to the Queen of Tarts and stepped inside. Instantly the aroma that called to his growing appetite reminded him there was nothing in a fast food place that could satisfy the craving he was building on with each step closer to the front counters.

“Your berries have arrived.” He stopped short of the counter so he didn’t leave any dust behind on the clear glass. “Where shall I put them?” He glanced around to make sure there was no customers ready to order. If there would be he would step to the side and wait paitently.

Humans and their affairs had seldom, if rarely, kept Elizabeth's mind preoccupied. Simply stated, humans were dangerous more times than not. She had experienced it first hand, as well as heard the stories about other vampires who had met their demise due to humans. That wasn't to say that vampires were innocent bystanders when it came to killing their own; but usually it was done out of necessity. A careless rogue vampire. A significant breech in the Masquerade, and other nefarious stories.

With humans, however-the mixing of the two species usually brought the humans reacting rashly and emotionally. And so, for much of her vampire life, Elizabeth avoided them. She had not even taken a thrall until four years ago, out of great fear and potential paranoia. Betrayal ran everywhere and it was possible, even in the blonde's mind that even an enthralled human could betray their master. Which was why Elizabeth had been so reluctant to let Elise go.

In saying that, it was a unique phenomenon that Elizabeth found herself slightly infatuated with the heir of Alaric Von Der Marck. It was a perplexing scenario-one that Elizabeth could not explain. Her original plan to enthrall him, had shifted and the two became potential business partners instead. A much better arrangement for both parties, Elizabeth suspected, but she was still left unsatisfied. Elizabeth was left wanting more from Louvel.

So, when he arrived through the front door, all Elizabeth could do was watch Louvel. He smelled...wonderful. While her tarts smelled delicious, his natural scent spoke volumes to Elizabeth, along with his golden tinted skin. It had taken the woman a couple of months to realize what her attraction was to Louvel Von Der Marck, but there, the answers were, right in front of her.

Elizabeth finished counting the drawer she was in, before closing it and waving two ushering arms in her direction. “I appreciate promptness.” Elizabeth confessed, before she pushed open the swinging doors that would lead them both to the back side of the building-the space where she worked. “As for your berries...” Elizabeth stopped at a granite counter in the middle of the kitchen, and patted the counter. “If one thinks they could fit here—then this would work...or would this not be big enough for one's berries?” Elizabeth asked, putting both hands behind her frame, palm side down, while she stood there looking at Louvel.

“I don’t think so.”

It didn’t take long for him to take a walk through the space that was suggested and eye the surface where she patted granite counter. He chewed his bottom lip while debating how sturdy the proposed spot would be. Of course it couldn’t possibly be utilized for taking the bulk of what he was about to unload but it had it’s promise for other things. His hand brushed over while passing it by. He found it smooth as his fingertips slid to the edge, curled for a brief second then dropped off.

“I don’t think you want to chance the counter getting scuffed with the wood I have waiting. How about I just leave the delivery on the pallets? It will be six total with 120 boxes on each. You will need to have it stored somewhere while you go through all those boxes and use up what is inside.” He turned on the worn heels of his work boots and pointed out the wall in a corner that seemed free for the moment. “Have anything going on over here?” The gloves in his back pocket were tugged free from the denim that held them in place. “If you think that will work I will start bringing them in.”

Waiting for an answer gave him the time to complete the task of sliding his right hand into the glove that fit then following suit with the left. The aroma of the shop worked on him while he weaved his fingers together and used his joined hands to sink the leather between each digit comfortably tight. There was something about a fine tart that had his appetite rising. Buddy wanted a burger. Then again Buddy swore he could survive on circus peanuts if he had to. Louvel knew what he wanted. It took more than two minutes on a grill and a hell of a lot more creativity than could be shoved into a small paper bag by some clown riding a unicycle. He looked at her long enough to figure it was business first.

“Mind if I prop those doors open to get the pallets in?” He started stepping towards the doors and pushed at one sending it back towards the wall. A slight lean and balancing his weight on one foot made it possiblefor him to look around for one of those convenient plastic wedges that were handy to keep the door open. Usually they weren't far from the typ of door he was holding onto.“I won’t have to use a dolly so your floor will be spared the tracking.”

Locating what he was looking for he used his boot to nudge it in place. Once it was secure he disappeared briefly and returned with a matching wedge that was nearby. Both doors were open and he stood in the ample space that it now offered.

“Ready?” He clapped his hands lightly together then rubbed his leather lined palms together.