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“I was thinking about Junie’s bakery expansion. My brain just went there,” he admits slowly. “We could time ours to match and bring the best of Kansas City east.”
“She’s thinking of opening a bakery in St. Louis?”
“I mean, it makes sense. It’s a big place, plenty of opportunities. Plus, I’ve checked, and I think there could be a gap in the market for another luxury high-rise with our model.”
Hmph.
If there’s one thing I trust Dexter to do, it’s research. Especially after the whole Haute affair that almost sunk us, he’s insanely diligent, even if he doesn’t burn himself out working like he used to.
“It’s your lucky day. I’ll consider it.”
“Good. Patton already agreed,” he says smugly.
“Big fat fucking surprise you went to him first,” I growl, trying not to roll my eyes. “He’ll still be bragging about The Cardinal in a retirement home someday.”
Dexter chuckles. “Careful, man, your jealousy is showing.”
“Fuck off, Dex.”
His voice is perfectly calm as he laughs. “Just wanted to plant the seed. We want to move fast, so can we expedite your second-guessing?”
“I told you I’ll think about it. Call a meeting in a few days, after I’ve had time to look into it, and you can pitch it properly with numbers.”
“Thanks, Arch. I’ll have my homework in on time like always.” He snorts. There’s a muffled sound in the background. “Anyway, I’ll let you get back to your brooding. Don’t be too hard on Colt for the fireworks. I heard about it from Mom.”
“My son, my problem,” I snarl.
I place the phone on the table, screen up, and turn on speaker so I can check through the messages that start buzzing in. Weirdly, they’re all from Miss Sugarbee.
“Junie just called you, didn’t she?” I ask, remembering that muffled sound. He has a bad way of setting his phone up where you can tell if someone else calls.
“Maybe.”
“Go back to your domestic bliss, fucker.”
“Sure thing, prick.”
I grin as I end the call.
It’s not the worst idea, expanding our star success, just as long as we lay the groundwork right. I send a note to our assistant to dig up basics on the St. Louis market and then turn my attention to those weird-ass texts.
Winnie: Archer you won’t believe this but you have THE BEST BEES
Winnie: Literal bee golf
Winnie: mold
Winnie: *gold ARGH
Winnie: The honey is purple and believe me when I say that’s sooo rare. PURPLE HONEY
What the fuck?
Of course, she includes a bee emoji after every message.
All I know about bees is that they hurt like hell when they sting you.
I’m starting to regret the day my landscaper talked me into setting up those bee boxes.