Nordic Heroes: In the Market and a Wholesale Arrangement (24 page)

She’d never been happier than during the past twelve months. Tomorrow would be their first anniversary. Tears misted her eyes. Day by day, their lives melded and solidified while their love and happiness gained in strength.

Rainer stroked her cheek with a gentle finger. “You cry a lot. It worries me.”

“Don’t let it.” She snuggled against him and grasped her tomato charm in a now familiar gesture. “You know it’s from happiness.”

The photographer cleared his throat. “Mrs. Thorsen? You about ready?”

She sighed. “Almost. I think. We’ll want our new sign in the photo. Can you do that?”

“No problem.” He glanced at the bright white-and-green placard. “Cornucopia I, huh? You guys must be expanding.”

Rainer grinned proudly. “Sure are.” He winked at his wife. “And in more ways than one, come the end of next month.”

Jordan lifted her chin. “Tomorrow Cornucopia III opens farther north, in Lake City,” she announced. “Of course it can’t compare to the original.”

Rainer’s hold tightened. “Nothing can compare to that,” he murmured.

The photographer frowned. “The light’s almost gone. We can’t wait any longer.”

“Where’s Uncle Cletus?” Jordan muttered anxiously. “We can’t take the picture without him.”

Right on cue, her uncle appeared in the doorway. “I’m coming. I’m coming. What’s all the rhubarb? Can’t an old man have a quiet game of checkers without all these interruptions. I should have retired to my chicken ranch in New Mexico like I wanted, instead of letting you talk me out of it.”

“Arizona, Uncle Cletus,” Jordan and Rainer corrected in unison.

Cletus snorted. “Whatever. I was winning, you know. Three more moves and I’d have done it.”

“Six,” came the grumbling retort. Walker poked his head from behind Cletus, a pineapple in one hand, an eggplant in the other. He looked at Jordan. “Me, too?” he asked in a hopeful voice.

Before Uncle Cletus could say a word, Jordan took Walker firmly by the arm and pulled him into the warmth of their circle. “You, too,” she said. “This picture is history. And history has to be accurate. Which means it’s going to have all the family.” She laid a gentle hand on her well-rounded stomach, smiling with satisfaction and a deep contentment. “And with any luck, we’ll soon need a bigger picture wall. A much bigger wall.”

The 
End

Special thanks to: Bjarne and Judy Anthonsen, Liv Dahl and Roy Everson, Sons of Norway Viking Magazine, Esther Dyer and Karin Larsen, and Ron Rosella, Rosella’s Fruit and Produce. Your help was invaluable!

“
S
he’s what?”

Thor Thorsen kicked aside his chair and surged to his feet, his impressive size instantly dwarfing everything and everyone in the room. He slammed his palms onto the desk in front of him and leaned across it. His voice dropped to an ominous rumble. “She’s what?” he repeated.

“You heard me,” Rainer responded, not the least intimidated by his older brother’s wrath. He lifted a scruffy sneakered foot and rested it on the edge of the gleaming mahogany desk. “Andrea’s price gouging. You know the term price gouging, don’t you? That’s when one party has another party at a financial disadvantage and puts the screws—”

“I know what it means.” Thor returned fire. “Give me proof. Evidence. You know the term evidence, don’t you? That’s when one party can substantiate their accusations against another party with documentation.” He switched his furious gaze to Rainer’s companion. “What do you have, Red? Fair warning. It better be good.”

The fifty-year-old man lifted a nervous hand to hair gone iron gray. “Calling it price gouging might be a tad strong. I think. Maybe.”

Rainer snorted and tilted his chair to a precarious two-legged angle. “Yeah, right. Andrea Constantine is as innocent as a lamb and I wear eggplants for slippers.” A backhanded swipe knocked his foot off the desk and he scrambled to keep from falling.

“Let him speak or you’ll be eating those eggplants, as well as wearing them,” Thor informed his brother. “Go on, Red.”

The older man cleared his throat. “That term, er, price gouging, does suggest a certain deliberation on Miss Constantine’s part. And, well, we don’t know for certain it is. Deliberate, I mean. I think maybe it could all be a little misunderstanding.”

“A little misunderstanding,” Thor repeated softly. “Rainer says Andrea’s billing our stores twice what her father, Nick, charged us six months ago. That’s a little misunderstanding?”

Red gulped. “I think maybe . . . yes?”

“I think maybe no!” Thor glared at his brother. “Evidence I said. Where’s the evidence?”

“You want it? I’ve got it.” Rainer’s demeanor changed abruptly. He tossed a bulky folder marked “Constantine’s Wholesale Produce Market” onto Thor’s desk. “Here’s a little evidence for you. These are the produce invoices from a year ago, six months before Nick Constantine’s death.”

Thor picked up the folder, extracting the pertinent files. They brought back bittersweet memories—memories he’d prefer to forget. Memories he couldn’t forget. With bleak determination, he focused on the papers, swiftly absorbing the necessary information. “This would be the month after our contract with Constantine’s first took effect.”

“Right.” Rainer sent another folder spinning onto the desk “And this next piece of evidence is seven months ago, immediately before Nick’s death. You’ll note some minor fluctuation in prices. But overall, it’s within acceptable parameters.”

“Lettuce and cucumbers up. That was mid-December. The freeze in central California and the heavy rains in Mexico would account for the increases there.”

Rainer’s gaze hardened. He heaved the final folder onto his brother’s desk. “This is last month’s invoices. My last bit of evidence and proof positive.”

Thor could guess what was coming, but he glanced through the invoices, anyway. They confirmed his worst fears. “Damn.” He took a seat and rocked back in his chair.
Why, Andrea? Why couldn’t you leave well enough alone? You had to hit out at me, didn’t you?

The increases were huge. He knew simple inflation couldn’t come close to accounting for them. No, the reason had nothing to do with business. A hot penetrating wrath seeped into his veins and spread like quicksilver. He fought to control it, his mouth firming into a taut line. Andrea always managed to rouse a strong reaction one way or the other.

“There’s more.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Thor rested an elbow on his desk and rubbed a finger across his jaw. “Finish it.”

Rainer handed him a graph. “I’ve charted some of our standard purchases over the past twelve months and compared them to last year’s. Just a few of the basics—lettuce, potatoes, things our retail produce markets and Milano’s Restaurants get from us on a daily basis.”

Thor studied the sharp upward slash of the red line on the graph. “Prices began to skyrocket right after Nick died and are headed straight through the roof.” He tossed the chart onto the desk and glanced from Red to his brother. “We can’t let this continue. We have to act. Suggestions?”

Red spoke first. “She’s a woman, you know.”

Both Thor and Rainer stared at the older man.

“She’s . . . she’s a woman, you know,” he repeated with dogged determination. “I think maybe that could mean something.”

Thor fixed his attention on the nervous man with barely concealed impatience. “Such as?”

“A woman in this business . . .” Red’s brow puckered. “Don’t know. Don’t seem right somehow. Think maybe we could check to be sure there’s been no mistake?”

Thor considered the possibilities for a minute. Andrea deserved the benefit of the doubt. But facts were facts. What legitimate excuse she possess?

“He’s right,” Rainer reluctantly conceded. “We should make certain before we act.”

“Agreed.” Thor thought for a moment before speaking. “Have my secretary call Constantine’s main competitor, Produce, Inc. Don’t mention Thorsen’s. She’s a woman calling out of the blue. Have her get the price on a box of bananas, a flat of strawberries and a carton of lettuce.”

Rainer lifted an eyebrow. “Clever. If Produce, Inc., gives a better deal to a complete stranger than Constantine’s gives to their best customer, we’ll know for sure Andrea’s price gouging.”

“Red,” Thor prompted. “Take care of it right away.”

The older man’s expression turned gloomy. “Yes, sir. Won’t take no time at all.”

“Thanks.” Thor waited until he was alone with his brother before continuing. “So, tell me the rest. The part you weren’t saying in front of Red.”

“Never could put one over on you.” Rainer leaned forward, his voice grim. “I’ve heard rumblings from other retailers. It isn’t Andrea’s prices alone. The quality of the produce is down, too.”

Thor’s eyes narrowed. “That would explain the phone calls I’ve received of late. Three different wholesale houses, in addition to Produce, Inc., are after our business. And they’re willing to give some major concessions to get it.”

“Too bad we can’t take advantage of their offers. At least, not while our contract with Constantine’s forces us to buy exclusively from them.” Rainer’s brows drew together. “If we go anywhere else, we lose the right to service their Milano account.”

“We entered into that contract because we could make major bucks supplying produce to Milano’s restaurant chain.” Thor thumbed through the files on his desk, then decisively flipped them closed. “Unfortunately our contract is with Constantine’s, not with the Milanos. In order to keep that account, we have to go through Andrea.”

“Can’t we sidestep her and cut a separate deal with Milano’s?”

Thor shook his head. “I tried that over a year ago and again after Nick’s death. Caesar made it clear his contract’s with Constantine’s and he isn’t interested in any other arrangement.”

Rainer didn’t hide his annoyance. “Despite the fact we provide him with faster, round the clock service?”

“He’s been friends with the family for too long to tolerate change.”

Rainer grimaced. “Which takes us back to first base. We buy only from Constantine’s, and their good friend Milano buys only from us.” He paused. “Still, everybody does make a profit.”

Thor tapped the documentation. “You’ll notice the last few months our profit’s headed straight for Antarctica.”

“I agree we can’t keep paying top dollar for second-rate produce.”

“Damn right!” Thor cut in. “If something doesn’t change, and soon, we’ll be lucky to keep the reputations of our retail markets intact, let alone satisfy the Milano’s Restaurants account. Tell me where the profit is in that.”

A knock at the door interrupted than, and Red stepped into the room. His expression told the story. “I think maybe price gouging is the right word, after all,” he muttered. With a sorrowful sigh, he turned and left.

Thor’s piercing gaze rested on Rainer. “You were supposed to keep an eye on this situation. Why wait so long to tell me?”

“I needed hard facts before I brought it to your attention. Evidence, remember?”

“Evidence?” Thor questioned. “Or the fact that Andrea is your wife’s best friend?”

“Leave Jordan out of this. She isn’t involved,” Rainer snapped. Then he shrugged. “Your relationship with Andrea is. I don’t like having to carry tales about your fiancée.”

“Former fiancée,” Thor corrected roughly. “And that’s no excuse for keeping this information from me.”

Rainer smiled skeptically. “You don’t think so? Perhaps not. I don’t know. But I also waited for the same reason you would have. To give Andrea a chance. What with Nick’s death and the amount of work involved in taking sole control of Constantine’s, she needed time to get a handle on the business.”

Thor swept the papers littering his desk to one side. “She didn’t get a handle on business. She got a handle on a knife and shoved it in our backs.”

“What now?” Rainer asked.

Thor rose to his feet and strode to the window. He leaned against the casing and stared down at the busy Seattle traffic. Why hesitate? He knew the choices available to him. And they were damned few. “Either we pull out of the contract, or I . . . discuss the matter with Andrea.”

“What’s to discuss?”

Thor ignored his brother’s impatience. “Plenty. Like why she’s playing games with us, for one.”

“Right.” Rainer paused. “By the way. Why is she playing games with us?”

“I can think of two reasons. It’s personal. Or it’s personal.” He frowned. “I want to be fair. There is one other possibility.”

“What’s that?”

“The woman could be totally incompetent at running a wholesale produce business.”

“So what are you going to do?”

Thor turned and faced him. “I think I’ll go have a little chat with Andrea.”