Sadie's Surrender by Afton Locke Page B

oyster boat. Its engine throbbed as it bobbed in the water. Two men stood on the dock in front of it. Henry looked so delicious in watermen’s clothes, but these two were downright motley.
    The skinny one stared past her as if she weren’t even there. “Hey, gal. Fetch Mr. Rockfield.”
    “He ain’t here right now, but I’m his secretary.” She waved the folder in the air. “He left the purchasin’ instructions with me.”
    The back of her neck burned from putting on the act, but she had to admit she was pretty good at it. The two men looked at each other and then at the baskets of oysters on the boat.
    For added effect, she waved her hand in front of her nose. “Oysters sure do smell, don’t they?”
    A seagull arced over their heads, seeking the tasty feast she advertised.
    “You implying our goods aren’t fresh?” the heavier one asked.
    “Oh, no, sir. They look mighty fine. How many bushels you got?”
    “Forty.”
    According to the purchase records she’d practically memorized, that sounded right. At least they agreed so far.
    “Forty bushels at two dollars and fifty cents a bushel comes to one hundred dollars.”
    “Oh.” She opened the folder and frowned. “On this here purchase order, Mr. Rockfield wrote two dollars a bushel. Don’t say nothin’ about no fifty cent.”
    “Let me see that.”
    She handed it to the skinny man and drummed her fingers against the outside of her thigh. The men passed the purchase order back and forth.
    “It sure does,” Skinny said to Heavy. “He must have made a mistake.”
    “Or he’s trying to gouge us.” Heavy spit out a stream of tobacco juice into the water.
    “Dang,” Skinny added. “And he’s not here to discuss it with us.”
    “Done that on purpose, I’m sure,” Heavy said. “The fellow is smarter than he looks.”
    “Does you still want to sell them to us or not?” She wrinkled her nose. “They sure do smell ripe.”
    “Guess we’ve got no choice. But you tell Mr. Rockfield he’s not getting this price again,” Heavy said, shaking a fist at her.
    We’ll see about that.
    He yanked the purchase order out of Skinny’s hand, filled in the blanks, ripped off the top copy, and handed the other back to her. She scanned the numbers to make sure they were right. To keep up the act, she squinted and moved her lips like someone who barely knew how to read.
    She pointed to the plant entrance. “Take it to Miz Tucker and she’ll pay you.”
    “We know,” Skinny grumbled before stalking away.
    Sadie waved to one of the floormen, signaling him to dump the purchased oysters onto the conveyor, which would transport them into the building through the roof. Before the watermen could see her face-splitting grin, she turned and hurried inside.
    She’d saved Henry twenty dollars! Because she’d set a precedent, sticking to the lower price for future orders would be easy. She’d handled things, all right. He’d probably be so thrilled, he’d kiss her—a nice appetizer for Saturday night.
    I’m running this place!
    She was so satisfied with her success, she’d almost forgotten about their date to make love.
    * * *
    Sadie turned to glance out her tiny office window that evening. It was getting dark. If Henry didn’t return soon, she’d have to go home without seeing him. She’d rather stay and witness the expression on his face when he found out how much money she’d saved him, though.
    When his boots clumped up the hallway, her stomach somersaulted. Because when he found out what she’d done, he’d be really happy or really angry, but probably nowhere in between.
    “How did it go out there?” she asked.
    “The losses were more than I expected. I mapped out the damage and talked to everyone I could find. No one seems to know who’s doing it.”
    “I’m sorry.” And she truly was. Henry was such a nice man. He deserved life to go well.
    “Someone needs to stake out the area to catch them in the act. Then several beds need to be