Nordic Heroes: In the Market and a Wholesale Arrangement (43 page)

I’m not an imbecile! Andrea almost shrieked. “I’m not an im—” She clenched her hands into fists. “Er, following you. Isn’t that what my father did?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. He set up a line of credit. That’s money available for his use any time he needs it, up to a certain amount. If he dips into that money, he must make monthly payments as you’ve done. Once a year, the balance comes due and we decide at that time whether to extend the line of credit for another year.” There was a long significant pause. Then she added, “As you’ve noticed, we’ve decided. And we’re not.”

Not? Andrea waved her fist at the phone. She’d give the old bat a knot—like the knot around a hangman’s noose. Let her choke on that. “Why won’t you extend our credit?” she asked, instead, impressed by her own forbearance.

“The quarterly reports you sent, your profit-and-loss statements and balance sheets, all show steady losses since your father’s unfortunate demise. Frankly, Mrs. Thorsen, you’re a bad risk.”

She was not a bad risk. She
used
to be a bad risk. But ever since Thor fixed things at Constantine’s, she was an excellent— Her eyes widened. Of course! Thor Thorsen, the man with the magical name.

“Perhaps there’s something you haven’t taken into consideration,” Andrea suggested smoothly.

“I can’t think what that might be.”

“My marriage. I’m married to Thor Thorsen of Thorsen’s Produce. You have heard of their markets?”

The change was instantaneous. “Mrs. Thorsen. I should have put two and two together.”

“Why should you have put two and two together?” Andrea asked pleasantly. You only deal with numbers on a daily basis. “You only—
we
only married a short time ago.”

“In that case, we’d be delighted to review your line of credit,” Mrs. Callum declared, charm itself. “Have your husband come down and we’ll discuss the matter with him.”

“You mean with us,” Andrea said. She didn’t appreciate the loan officer relegating her to the background. Not when she owned the business concerned.

“That’s not necessary. I’m certain your husband and I can work something out, especially if he decides to transfer his accounts to our institution. Shall we say Monday at nine?”

Andrea hesitated, unable to understand her reluctance to confirm the appointment. It was perfect. She only had to agree, and Constantine’s would once more be on track. Salvation stood one word away. All she had to say was . . .

“No.” That was one word, true. It just wasn’t the right word. Her eyes narrowed. Or perhaps it was.

“I—I’m sorry?” Mrs. Callum stuttered.

Andrea sighed. “Yeah, me, too. Thanks, anyway, but I’d like to speak to my husband first. I’ll call and let you know about that appointment.”

She hung up on the woman’s angry protests. Escaping her chair, she crossed to the windows overlooking the warehouse floor. Forklifts shifted boards of Granny Smith apples from the docks to the cooler and she frowned pensively. Why didn’t she say yes when she had the chance? It didn’t make a bit of sense. If she were smart, she’d phone the Callum woman and confirm the appointment. So, what stopped her?

She grimaced. For one, a picture of Thor leaving their bed to answer an emergency at work stopped her. So did the other images. Images of her father putting work before everything else in his life, of herself competing for his time against the demands of business. They’d popped into her head before she could say yes to the loan officer and remained stuck there.

Annoyed by her own indecisiveness, she left the office and returned downstairs. A new shipment of tomatoes sat on the warehouse floor. She popped the slats off the crate and examined the produce. Full, red, and unblemished, they made her mouth water just looking at them.

“Sweet mommas, aren’t they?” Marco said, coming to stand beside her. “Your husband picked ’em up for a terrific price.”

She stiffened. “Thor ordered them?”

“Yup. You sure can count on that man to come through in a pinch. Check the strawberries in cooler one. They’ll bring tears to your eyes.”

“Those are thanks to him, too?”

Marco stirred uneasily. “That a problem, Mrs. Thorsen?”

“No, no,” she murmured. “I didn’t realize quite how much we depend on his help.” She fixed her head salesman with a keen stare. “Aren’t you and Terry doing most of the buying now? I thought he’d trained you to take over.”

The older man gave an abashed shrug. “He gets the better deals. And I’m not a man to argue with success.”

“No. Why should you, since Thor’s ready, willing, and able to do it for us?”

She looked away, her jaw firming into a stubborn line. Now she understood what bothered her about the situation at the bank. Once more, Thor would have to bail them out. What had Jordan said? He’s been the responsible one for so long. He needs a partner, not another dependent.

Not another dependent
. If Thor used his company for backing or collateral or whatever other guarantee the bank required, he’d be tied to her and Constantine’s for years. That might solve her problems, but it wouldn’t be fair to him. Because, she didn’t doubt for a minute Thor would feel obligated to remain her husband as long as it took to satisfy the bank. She’d wanted to save Constantine’s for her father’s sake, but not at such a cost. It wasn’t ethical or reasonable, and it certainly wasn’t the proper basis for marriage.

She walked into cooler one. Wounded pride? she wondered. Was her personal demon preventing her from asking for the help she required?

She thought about it, thought long and hard. Finally, she shook her head. She’d never lied to herself about her various mistakes, and there’d been many. She could blame innumerous foolish decisions or impulsive actions on her pride. But not this time. This time her reasons were sound, if unpleasant.

She wouldn’t have the Thorsens responsible for the huge sums of money she owed the bank. She wouldn’t have Thor tied to her because of that money. She wouldn’t compete with the business for his attention the way she had for her father’s. And she wouldn’t have her future determined by that business, or more specifically by Constantine’s well-being.

She’d done her best. She’d sacrificed a lot. But it wouldn’t be her sacrifice alone if she continued to use Thor’s assistance. He’d helped enough, not that he’d agree with that. But she knew it to be fact.

First he’d resolved her supply problem. Then he’d trained her to run her own business. Now he faced a financial crisis not of his making. What awaited him next? What new problem would rear its ugly head? She couldn’t and wouldn’t keep running to Thor for help. She couldn’t and wouldn’t be dependent on him any longer.

So, where did that leave her?

Exiting the cooler with determined strides, she returned to her office. It left her one place and one place only. Out of business. It also meant she’d have to call on a certain Jack Maxwell and see if he still wanted to purchase Constantine’s. And heaven help her when Thor learned of it.

It took three days to hammer out an agreement with Jack. Thanks to all of Thor’s hard work, he made a much better offer than he would have previously. But on one condition, Jack remained firm. He wouldn’t agree to keep the Thorsen contract in force.

“It truly is worth more money than servicing Milano’s Restaurants directly,” she tried again, wondering if he heard the desperate edge in her voice. “I wish you’d reconsider your decision.”

He sighed. “Let me level with you, Andrea—” He broke off abruptly, and several long nerve-racking seconds passed before he spoke again. “No, I’m sorry,” he said, his voice brisk and reserved. “The restaurant account is too valuable. I’ll have to insist on maintaining it, instead of dealing with the Thorsens.”

What had he been about to say? An odd quality in his words and tone nagged at her. If only exhaustion didn’t dog her. If only she wasn’t so worried about the ramifications of her decision. She’d missed something. Something important, but she couldn’t figure out what. “I . . . I understand,” she murmured.

“I could split the Milano account off and buy Constantine’s without it,” he offered reluctantly. “But I couldn’t offer you as much.” He suggested an alternative figure. A much lower alternative figure. A figure that wouldn’t enable her to pay off her debts.

She closed her eyes. “The Milano account’s all yours, Jack,” she agreed, knowing the decision literally doomed her marriage. “You understand I can’t guarantee the contract for longer than a year?”

“A year’s plenty. I’ll keep them happy from there,” he stated with absolute confidence.

“Then that satisfies the final condition. I assume our lawyers can take over?”

“Right. Send the appropriate papers tomorrow. It’s a little late this evening.” He chuckled. “For some reason my attorney won’t work past nine at night.”

She laughed automatically. “First thing tomorrow will do.”

“I know it’s none of my business, but I’m curious. What changed your mind about selling?”

She didn’t mind his asking. Nor did she mind answering. “I decided one business per marriage is plenty,” she said evenly.

“Tough decision,” he sympathized. “If it’s any consolation, it’s a smart person who can keep their priorities straight. Thor’s a lucky man.”

Tell him that. “Thanks. But he may not agree with you. He doesn’t know about our deal.”

“Oh.” The single word spoke volumes.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d give me twenty-four hours before announcing anything. After that, it won’t matter.”

“Sticky predicament,” he understated the case. “Good luck.”

“Thanks. I’ll need it. Until tomorrow,” she added, and terminated their conversation.

She reached over and clicked off the desk lamp. She’d done it. She’d actually done it. She’d sold out. Burying her face in her hands, she allowed the tears to come.

She mourned the loss of Constantine’s, the business that had meant more to her father than his only child. She mourned the loss of her marriage. For without the Milano account, Thor wouldn’t need or want her anymore. And she felt the sharp bite of remorse for letting her husband down, after all his hard work.

But in her heart, she truly believed she’d done the right thing. She wouldn’t be another dependent. She wouldn’t obligate him to pay back so much money. And she wouldn’t allow Constantine’s to come first in their life together, assuming they still had a life together.

She’d been wrong all those weeks ago when Thor first proposed marriage as a solution. She never should have agreed to marry him for anything other than love. He’d wasted so much time, trying to set Constantine’s to rights. And for what? So she could steal the Milano account from under his nose? He wasn’t going to take that well. Not well at all.

She sat up and wiped her eyes. She’d allowed herself the indulgence of tears. Now to pay the price. She had another job to complete before she told Thor what she’d done. She couldn’t give him the Milano account, but she could try to replace it with something of equal value. She could see that he didn’t lose everything.

With that in mind, she picked up the phone.

A
n hour later, she pushed back her chair. She’d accomplished as much as she could tonight, which left one final task. In thirty days, Constantine’s would no longer be hers. Thor needed to know that. Soon.

“Andrea?”

She jumped, a gasp escaping before she could prevent it. “You have a very nasty habit of sneaking up on me,” she complained in a breathless voice.

Thor leaned against the doorjamb, studying her. “And you always seem to be doing something you shouldn’t. Like now, perhaps?”

She froze, staring at him. “Why do you say that?”

He smiled. “Those big brown eyes, sweetheart. They’re at it again.” His smile grew. “You are up to something. What is it?”

Not now. Please not now. She wanted a little longer before she told him. “Is everyone gone?”

“All gone. There’s just the two of us. Alone.” His voice dropped suggestively. “Why? What did you have in mind?”

Distraction tactics. Pure distraction tactics. Anything to put off the moment of truth. “I have to check on the bananas we gassed today.”

He tilted his head to one side and studied her, a question in his gaze. “I’m not sure what one has to do with the other, but okay. I’ll tag along, if you don’t object.”

Andrea nodded. “I’d like that.”

She led the way downstairs and opened the heavy, metal door to the room where they ripened the green bananas. A tropical warmth filled the small space, the slight odor of ethylene gas still lingering in the air. She peeked through the slit on the top box and nodded, satisfied.

Thor shot her a puzzled look. “Can we go home now?”

Not yet. A few minutes more. “Not yet. I’d like a few more minutes to check on the stack in the next room. They were gassed a couple of days ago for Jordan’s market. She’s sending someone to pick them up tomorrow.”

He sighed. “I had to marry a conscientious woman.”

The room she entered was narrow and used mostly for storage. The thick door closed automatically behind them sealing, though not locking them, in the narrow space. Piled in one corner she found burlap potato bags covered with a huge mound of discarded plastic wrap. Next to it were Jordan’s bananas.