“That’s recent.”
“Who makes the deliveries?”
“A couple of y
oung men. Twins, in fact. Davy and Mike O’Connor.”
“Are they teetotalers?”
He’d scoffed. “They worked in the pool hall until it was forced to shut down. A campaign led by Mrs. Logan, by the way. I guess Logan felt bad about the twins losing their livelihood. He hired them to deliver groceries.”
“Hmm.”
It took several days for her to secure an interview with the busy grocer. As Irv had said of him, he was extremely polite, and highly complimentary of the samples of pie she’d brought for him to try. Even so, he’d declined.
“I would like to stock them, Mrs. Plummer, but the problem is a shortage of shelf space. I’m at full capacity.”
She’d made a sound of regret. “That is unfortunate. Because I notice that all the baked goods you carry are factory-made and packaged.” After a strategic pause, she’d added, “There’s nothing wrong with that, of course.”
At that, his smile had slipped a bit.
The next day, she’d gone back and told him, with rehearsed animation, that she had slept on his dilemma and believed that she had a solution.
“I could make up a menu of my pies. You display it and take orders. The pies will be delivered from my kitchen directly to the customer. You never have to touch the goods, and they won’t take up your valuable shelf space.”
“How would you get the orders?”
“You could telephone them in to me.”
“Do you have a telephone?”
“I will by tomorrow.” Her cheekiness had made him smile. “I think this idea is growing on you, Mr. Logan.”
“You certainly have my interest, and I admire your initiative, which is rare in a young and recent widow.”
“But?”
“But we haven’t yet talked terms.”
Acting girlified, she’d smoothed her hands over her skirt nervously, then had pretended to summon the courage to open the bidding. “For each pie order you submit, I’ll give you ten percent.”
“Fifteen.”
“Fifteen?”
“My two deliverymen are kept busy during store hours. Your deliveries will have to be made after closing. I’ll have to pay them extra.”
After-hours deliveries were what she’d hoped for, but she’d pursed her lips as though she hadn’t considered this stumbling block. “Perhaps just one could work overtime. Perhaps they could swap off.”
“They’re twins. Inseparable, and they work as a unit. One drives their truck and waits, while the other runs the delivery to the customer’s door. It’s a very efficient system. With the two of them working together, it takes only half as long to make the deliveries. Because they’re paid by the hour, it’s actually more economic to have both on the payroll.”
She’d appeared impressed by his business savvy, but crestfallen by how it affected their deal. “I see. Well, I’ll give you two percent more to cover that expense. For a total of twelve.”
“Fifteen.”
“Thirteen.”
“Fifteen.”