Read Online Just Desserts by Tricia Quinnies - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Tricia Quinnies
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Regatta, the collection of shiny mahogany beauties paraded around the lake and received more ooohs and aaahhs than the fireworks.
The dock looked deserted, which didn’t surprise her. The barbeque wouldn’t be starting for another couple hours. Sadie turned her phone to vibrate, or oscillate and slid it into the pocket of her cargo shorts.
She heard some yelling and pounding—construction type sounds from on top of the hill beyond the boathouse where the mammoth Wrigley mansion towered. Her entire life she’d heard rumors about the grand house and its illustrious contents, but never seen any of it. As a kid she dreamed Wrigley would follow Wonka’s lead and hide golden tickets in packs of Juicy Fruit to offer tours of his castle to his poor gum-chewing neighbors. She laughed, remembering she hadn’t chewed Juicy Fruit since, or Big Red.
Sadie tightened two slipknots on the posts to secure the rowboat along the side of the pier, then levered the first cooler on the edge of the pier pushing it safely on it, without losing her balance. Water splattered her knees from between the rowboat and dock. Sadie congratulated herself when she shoved the second cooler on the pier without a splash.
The ladder to climb onto the dock was mounted a good distance away so instead of finagling the boat, she gripped the side of the concrete pier and pulled herself up. When she stealthily stepped onto Wrigley’s pier, more like a state-of-the-art boat containment unit, she lost her footing. The toe of her Keen slipped off the edge and the length of her shin scraped down the jagged concrete edge.
“Shit.” Dropping down on the pier, she hauled her butt and injured leg up to inspect the damage. The skin that once smoothed over her shinbone crinkled up at the top of a long bloodied skid mark. As ugly as it looked, it hurt even more.
“Fuck,” she yelped under her breath.
Using the post to brace herself, she stood up. All she had to do was pull the wheeled Coleman coolers to the man-door of the boathouse and shove them inside. Quinn and his crew would find them easily.
Blood spotted her shin, but then trickled down her leg as she hopped and hobbled down the pier with the first cooler. She parked it and then sat on the top to catch her breath. The skin below her knee had turned a pretty shade of crimson.
Ignoring the sting and burn, she wiped the sweat off her brow with the back of her forearm, and got up to fetch the second cooler. Bloodied or not, she needed to finish and get the hell out of here before it got totally dark and kamikaze mosquitoes raided her on the return trip across the lake. Or she saw Quinn.
After hauling the second cooler, she swayed, almost losing her balance. She clutched onto the cooler’s handle and opened it to check and see if her dad had packed any beer. No good. All packages of semi-frozen meat wrapped in butcher paper. She thought about her bottle of water in the rowboat but didn’t want to waste the energy. She sat on the cooler. Just five minutes .
***
“A damned wasted day!” Quinn said to Eddie.
They were shielding their eyes with hand visors and trying like hell to see over the hot house and get a better look at the hole in Wrigley’s roof.
“The panel was supposed to be in position, yesterday.” Quinn rubbed his eyes to make the dancing dots from the blaze of the setting sun disappear. “Idiots. They actually told you that it would be delivered separately? One solar panel, today? They fucked up the order. I may be looking at that hole for months before it’s delivered.”
“Sorry, boss,” Eddie said. “The dudes worked until late last night. I didn’t notice the missing piece until this morning.”
Quinn corralled his frustration over the botched job. He couldn’t blame Eddie. Had he been attending to his day job yesterday instead of moonlighting as a fry-cook he might have caught the error. But he had no regrets about saving Sadie’s day at the diner.
The
The dock looked deserted, which didn’t surprise her. The barbeque wouldn’t be starting for another couple hours. Sadie turned her phone to vibrate, or oscillate and slid it into the pocket of her cargo shorts.
She heard some yelling and pounding—construction type sounds from on top of the hill beyond the boathouse where the mammoth Wrigley mansion towered. Her entire life she’d heard rumors about the grand house and its illustrious contents, but never seen any of it. As a kid she dreamed Wrigley would follow Wonka’s lead and hide golden tickets in packs of Juicy Fruit to offer tours of his castle to his poor gum-chewing neighbors. She laughed, remembering she hadn’t chewed Juicy Fruit since, or Big Red.
Sadie tightened two slipknots on the posts to secure the rowboat along the side of the pier, then levered the first cooler on the edge of the pier pushing it safely on it, without losing her balance. Water splattered her knees from between the rowboat and dock. Sadie congratulated herself when she shoved the second cooler on the pier without a splash.
The ladder to climb onto the dock was mounted a good distance away so instead of finagling the boat, she gripped the side of the concrete pier and pulled herself up. When she stealthily stepped onto Wrigley’s pier, more like a state-of-the-art boat containment unit, she lost her footing. The toe of her Keen slipped off the edge and the length of her shin scraped down the jagged concrete edge.
“Shit.” Dropping down on the pier, she hauled her butt and injured leg up to inspect the damage. The skin that once smoothed over her shinbone crinkled up at the top of a long bloodied skid mark. As ugly as it looked, it hurt even more.
“Fuck,” she yelped under her breath.
Using the post to brace herself, she stood up. All she had to do was pull the wheeled Coleman coolers to the man-door of the boathouse and shove them inside. Quinn and his crew would find them easily.
Blood spotted her shin, but then trickled down her leg as she hopped and hobbled down the pier with the first cooler. She parked it and then sat on the top to catch her breath. The skin below her knee had turned a pretty shade of crimson.
Ignoring the sting and burn, she wiped the sweat off her brow with the back of her forearm, and got up to fetch the second cooler. Bloodied or not, she needed to finish and get the hell out of here before it got totally dark and kamikaze mosquitoes raided her on the return trip across the lake. Or she saw Quinn.
After hauling the second cooler, she swayed, almost losing her balance. She clutched onto the cooler’s handle and opened it to check and see if her dad had packed any beer. No good. All packages of semi-frozen meat wrapped in butcher paper. She thought about her bottle of water in the rowboat but didn’t want to waste the energy. She sat on the cooler. Just five minutes .
***
“A damned wasted day!” Quinn said to Eddie.
They were shielding their eyes with hand visors and trying like hell to see over the hot house and get a better look at the hole in Wrigley’s roof.
“The panel was supposed to be in position, yesterday.” Quinn rubbed his eyes to make the dancing dots from the blaze of the setting sun disappear. “Idiots. They actually told you that it would be delivered separately? One solar panel, today? They fucked up the order. I may be looking at that hole for months before it’s delivered.”
“Sorry, boss,” Eddie said. “The dudes worked until late last night. I didn’t notice the missing piece until this morning.”
Quinn corralled his frustration over the botched job. He couldn’t blame Eddie. Had he been attending to his day job yesterday instead of moonlighting as a fry-cook he might have caught the error. But he had no regrets about saving Sadie’s day at the diner.
The
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