Chapter 4 #2
“As I was saying, I want to learn about the bakery and its business.” The double doors swung open, and Chloe turned to tell whoever it was they’d be right out to refill their coffee, but the words died on her lips.
Sam Hardy filled the kitchen with his broad, athletic presence.
“Well, butter my backside and call me a biscuit,” Ruby said. “What are you doing here so soon, Sam? Or should I say Boss?”
“Came to check on my investment.” His gaze landed on Chloe and stayed there. “Is it usual to have a bakery full of hungry customers and no one to sell them their afternoon crullers and donuts?”
“Seems if you don’t want folks to know you’re an owner, coming in every day and telling us how to run things isn’t the best way to go about it.” Ruby shook a finger at him. “Chloe, is your meeting over? We best get to work before Sam fires us all.”
“I should get back to the muffins,” Laura Kate said.
“Can I have a word?” Sam motioned to the office.
As much as she’d like nothing better than to sit and chat with Sam, she did notice the growing line out front. How had that happened so fast?
“I’d better help Ruby first.”
It took a few minutes to get the line served and Chloe made a quick round of the bakery, topping off coffee mugs.
As she replaced the pot on the warmer, she nodded to the same ladies with coffee and pastries at the table under the window overlooking First Avenue.
She’d finally placed the familiar face in the group.
“Ruby, isn’t that Octavia O’Shay?”
“Queen of O’Shay Shirts and of Hearts Bend? Yes, indeedy.”
After fifteen minutes, the dining room was clear and Chloe saw Sam sitting in a back booth. He motioned for her to join him.
“How’s it going?” he said. “Honestly.”
“First day. It’s fine, I think. Hard to tell.” She thumbed her left ring finger. “By the way, Jean-Marc, my husband, loved American football. He was a big fan of yours. He wanted to meet you.”
“I would’ve loved to have met him. Lucky man to catch you. I was sorry to hear about his accident.” Sam leaned back in the booth.
“I think I’m still getting over the shock,” she said. “But it’s nice being home. Being here. Thank you for the job.”
“Rick knows what he’s doing.” Sam smiled and she was once again the girl who’d loved him from afar in ninth grade all the way until she’d left for culinary school. But above all, he was Sam, her friend.
“So, my mom still works for your dad.”
“Yeah, I get messages from her sometimes. In lieu of Frank.” Sam nodded in the way one did when filtering through small talk. “Reminders of family gatherings at the holidays. I’m sure Frank puts her up to it.”
“Things aren’t better between you?” By Sam’s expression, she knew the answer.
“A work in progress,” he said. “No, not even that. But that’s another story. Is your mom glad you’re home? You said you’re here to help her with something?”
“She’s battling cancer.” She’d not really told anyone until now. But that was Sam, getting the secrets out of her heart. “I want to be here for her. I lost my dad and my husband. I’m not going to lose my mother. Especially when I’m four thousand miles away.”
“Chloe, I’m sorry. Anytime you need to take off to help her, do it. Even if you have to close the bakery.”
Tears welled up and she blinked them away. When would she be able to handle her emotions better? “Thank you.”
“Are you in your old room?”
Chloe laughed softly. “Yep. I think it makes both of us feel that life has stalled on us. Like, ‘Really, I’m living with my mother?’ Mom’s like, ‘Really, my daughter is back home?’”
“Give yourself a break, Chloe. Your husband died. That’s not a failure or like you gave up and moved home to mooch off Mom. Besides, she needs you. She may not say it, but I bet she’s glad to have you around.”
“I think she likes living alone. She never remarried, let alone dated, after Dad died.” Chloe leaned against the table, arms flat on the tabletop, hands crossed. “Do you talk to your mom ever?”
“My mom? We’re talking about your mom, Chloe.”
“Sam Hardy, you’re avoiding a perfectly honest question.”
“Yes, so let’s move on. Remember when you dared me to jump from the roof into the pool? I about killed myself.”
She laughed and allowed him to change the subject. They talked about his knee injury and his hope for rehab and getting back on the field in the fall. Then Ruby appeared with two mugs and a coffeepot.
“Y’all been sitting here for an hour. Coffee, Mr. Hardy? Chloe?”
“An hour? I should get back to work.” She started to stand, but he motioned to her.
“We’re catching up. Consider it part of your orientation for HARDRICK. Have some coffee. Please.”
Chloe reached for a mug but asked for half a cup. She hadn’t spent an hour chatting with a friend in—well, years. It felt good. Normal, even. She leaned back against the booth and inhaled the strong, rich brew.
“Ruby, call me Sam.” He accepted a full mug. “You’ve known me since forever.”
“It’s true. I’ve served you more chocolate milk and crullers than there are ticks on a raccoon. But now you’re my boss.”
“Still, call me Sam.”
“Okay, boss.” Ruby glanced at the clock. “You’ll be wanting to start the Friday afternoon cookies soon, Chloe.”
“What cookies?” There’d been no cookie tradition when she was a girl.
Ruby put a hand on her hip. “Every Friday, Donna made Triple Chocolate Fudge Caramel cookies. Folks start lining up at two o’clock to get them warm from the oven.”
“Okay. Can you have Laura Kate print out the recipe from the computer?”
“Computer? The only mouse Donna knows is one you set a trap for.” Ruby arched her brow as if offering a challenge and turned for the O’Shay table to warm up their coffees.
Chloe glanced at Sam. “Did Donna leave her recipes?”
“With me? Are you crazy?” Sam looked at the door as the bell chimed. Five customers entered and hurried to the register. “Didn’t she give them to you?”
“No one said a word about recipes.”
He turned to Chloe. “You don’t know how to make cookies?”
“Not just any cookie, Sam.” Ruby was back.
“The TCFC. Triple Chocolate Fudge Caramel. It’s the new drug in town.
I’m telling you, people go crazy over it.
” She pointed to the register line where Robin was scribbling on an order pad.
“They’re coming in now to get their orders in. Only two to a customer.”
Chloe rode a wave of panic. “Ruby, call Donna.”
“I’m on it.” The woman was already dialing.
“Sam, we have to find that recipe.”
He slid from the booth. “Come on, I’ll help you find it.”
An hour later, after scouring the office, the bakery cabinets, the pantry, and the storage closet, Sam felt hot and sticky, grit clinging to his hands and face.
Ruby’s call to Donna had gone straight to voicemail. The campy greeting said she and “...the Rodfather are out to sea and will return your call whenever the fish quit keepin’ it reel.”
Chloe was also covered in dust and oozed frustration. “How am I to make special cookies without the recipe? We’re already late!” Emotion thickened her voice. “Ruby, you don’t have the recipe? Or even an ingredient list? Laura Kate?”
“Donna never let me near her recipe box.” Laura Kate looked up from slathering cream cheese frosting on apple nut muffins.
“So, I have cookies to bake without a map. My first day and I’m failing. With my boss standing right here.”
“I feel as responsible as you, Chloe,” Sam said, making his way to the sink to wash his hands. “Look, just make any cookie.”
“Sam, do not blaspheme in this kitchen. You cannot sell just any cookie,” Ruby said. “Folks want the Triple Chocolate Fudge Caramel, the TCFC Delight. I’ve already had a dozen calls to reserve their two.”
“Oh my gosh, what am I going to do?” Chloe paced and Sam wondered if she felt like she was back in the Paris bistro, pressured by the intensity of an upscale, fast-paced restaurant.
“Ruby, do you have a picture? Anything? Triple Chocolate Fudge Caramel. I’ll need chocolate, fudge, and caramel. What else?”
While Chloe labored over the unexpected, Sam wandered into the front of the bakery.
He really didn’t know why he was here today except he’d woken up in his Nashville loft overlooking the river and wanted to go home.
He wanted to see Haven’s. See Chloe, if he was being honest. After a few calls with the director of his charity, he’d driven over to HB.
Now, he was talking to a couple of customers, signing autographs on Haven’s napkins when the bakery door chimed as another customer entered. He heard a familiar gasp and steeled himself. “Have a good day,” he said to the customer before turning to Janice, his stepmother.
“Sam?” Janice stepped forward to hug him then stopped short, self-consciously dropping her arms to her sides. “Why are you in town? Frank is so pleased you’re coming to his party. He couldn’t stop grinning when I told him you accepted.”
“Don’t make too much of it, Janice. Dr. Morgan pressured me into going.” And there was the small matter of Frank not knowing he’d purchased Haven’s. He’d like to keep it that way.
Her smile faded for a moment then she rebounded, raising her chin. “Well, Joann is a good friend. So…what are you doing here now?”
Really good question. “Dr. Morgan.” It was mostly true. He was going to be in town more often to see her. Just not today.
“She’s the best.” Janice turned to the bakery case. “Ruby, do you have my cookies? Frank’s must-have Friday night dessert.”
“The Triple Chocolate Fudge Caramel?” Sam said.
“Yes, the TCFC. When Donna started making them about ten years ago, HB went nuts.”
“We don’t have the cookies, Janice.” Ruby, in a very flat tone.
“Whyever not?”
“Well, Sam here—”
“Just overheard from the new manager that Donna didn’t leave the recipes behind. Chloe’s looked everywhere.” He sighed and said something he couldn’t take back. “I even helped her look.”
“You helped Chloe? The new manager? Meredith’s daughter?” Questions flickered in Janice’s eyes. “Why in the world would you—”
As if she knew he needed rescuing, Chloe emerged from the kitchen and drew Janice’s attention. “Hello, dear, your mom told me you were back from France.” Janice glanced at the bakery counter then at Chloe. “I came for our TCFC order, but Sam here tells me you can’t find the recipe.”
“Donna didn’t leave any recipes. At least not that we can find.”
“Heaven help you, this town is going to go crazy on you. Frank and I will be fine, but best say your prayers. You’ll have a hangry mob here any minute looking for their Friday afternoon fix.”
The look on Chloe’s face…sheer terror. “A hangry mob.”
Nothing worse than angry, hungry people. Sam had seen that in some of his teammates.
“Ah, come on, darling,” Janice said. “You’re made of better stuff.
Just tell the hangry folks you’ll have the cookie next week.
You’ve called Donna, right? See if you can’t dig up the recipe.
Now, as long as I’m here, I might as well order Frank’s birthday cake.
I was going to get it from a fancy place in Nashville, but I suppose a cake from an authentic French pastry chef would be a showstopper. You do have a cake recipe, don’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am, cakes are my specialty.”
Janice explained the ’60s-themed party for Frank’s sixtieth birthday while Sam flanked Chloe, hoping to provide a calming influence. What were they going to do about the cookies?
Sam gave Ruby a look that told her to call Donna again. Meanwhile, he pulled out his phone, texted Rick. We need Donna’s recipes. There’s a special cookie everyone will want today!
He returned to the booth he’d occupied earlier and waited for Rick’s response. Meanwhile, Chloe talked about the cake order with Janice in another booth nearby.
“Give me a few days to come up with ideas. I’m just getting my bearings,” Chloe said.
“Monday?”
“Perfect.”
Janice stood to go. “Chloe, I know Meredith is happy you’re home. She plays down her issue,” Janice whispered the word, “but I know she’s comforted by your presence. So, with Bob and Donna gone, who hired you? Who owns Haven’s now? I’ve not heard a word and I’m on the town welcoming committee.”
“Don’t you know? The bakery was bought by—”
Sam scrambled from his booth and stood behind Janice. Waving his arms he mouthed, No, no, no. He’d told everyone that he didn’t want Frank to know he was co-owner of Haven’s. Perhaps he should.
“—um, a man out of Atlanta. Rick or Mick or something.”
“Well, call me if and when he comes to town. I’d like to give him an official Hearts Bend greeting,” Janice said. “Oh, one more thing for the cake. No fondant. Just buttercream frosting, please.”
Sam followed Chloe to the office after Janice left. He received a text from Rick and held up his phone. “Rick is calling Bob and Donna to see about the recipes.”
“Doesn’t help me today.”
“Just make a cookie. Give them away for free. I’ll cover the cost and square it with Rick.
” His phone pinged a reminder. “I have to go. I’m on Zoom with SportsCenter in a couple of hours.
Need to get home.” He turned for the door.
“Hey, if you want to fix up the place some, you can. We always set aside a few grand for updates, paint, and new supplies. I’ll get our business manager to email you the details.
And Janice kind of ambushed you. Thanks for agreeing to make Frank’s cake. ”
“More like she ambushed you. Besides, a cake for Frank’s party will be great for the bakery. People must wonder what it will be like around here without Bob and Donna. Especially now that we don’t have the TCFC recipe.”
“I have a feeling Haven’s Bakery will be even better,” Sam said. How could it not be with Chloe LaRue in the house?
Her smile eased some of the ache in his knee, the same smile he’d loved when they were fifteen and hanging out at his house around the pool.
When she’d shared her recipe for lemon poppyseed bread with him.
When she’d called his bluff with that dare to jump from the roof into the pool.
They’d laughed a lot back then. She’d been the balm to the wound of his parents’ divorce.
On his way home to Nashville, memory after memory surfaced of the shy, dark-headed girl, lost in a world of emo, and the summer he realized he wasn’t as impervious to love as he had once believed.