Chapter 16
Chapter 16
IT WAS OFFICIAL: I was on Cloud Nine. And oh, my, did I like being there. I floated from home to work, to seeing Ryan, and back again. And it kept on getting better and better. We’d been out to dinner, played some more tennis (I won this time, but I’m certain he let me), and just simply been hanging out, enjoying one another’s company. He was sweet and thoughtful, and I found myself wanting to spend all my free time with him—which wasn’t a lot of time when you ran a busy city café and catering company.
Not that the catering business had quite taken off as much as Paige and I would have liked. Although we’d been contacted on our website about many jobs since our first one for Joanne’s “silver foxes,” we were finding that we weren’t winning new business very often.
I sat in the café kitchen at my laptop and checked our emails. My face dropped when I saw a message from Joanne. “Oh, no.”
Paige looked up at me from the carrot cake she was icing with cream cheese frosting. “What is it?”
“Joanne no longer wants us to cater her ‘silver foxes’ party this weekend.”
“What? Why?”
I scanned the rest of the email. “She said they had another catering firm approach them and decided to give them the party. She didn’t say why, exactly. She was very nice about it, but still.”
“Well, that’s annoying. But you know what? It’s just a matter of time, Bailey. Word’s going to get out how good we are, how great our food is. Have faith, okay?”
I smiled at her, wishing I had her optimism. Of the fourteen requests for quotes that had come in over the past few weeks, we’d only won two of them, and now we’d lost Joanne’s party. Those were not good odds in anyone’s books.
“Do you think it’s something to do with our marketing?”
“No, the marketing’s great. And we know they love our food. Just be patient, okay?” Paige picked a knife up and began to slice the cake.
“I guess.” I collected the keys to the front door and wandered out into the café, flicking the lights on. There were already a couple of people waiting outside, and as I unlocked and opened the door, I greeted them with a “good morning” and set about serving them at the counter. At this time of day, the most anyone wanted was a takeout cup of coffee and maybe a breakfast muffin, so they were on their way before too long, happily caffeinated.
“Could you open the cabinet, please?” Paige was holding a freshly iced flourless chocolate and raspberry drizzle cake in her hands.
“Sure.” I pulled the door open and rearranged the cakes already inside so she could fit the new addition.
She slid it inside before I closed up again.
“I’ve been thinking. How about I call some of the jobs we didn’t get and ask them why they chose someone else?”
Paige nodded. “That’s good market research. Make sure you mention that when you call them, otherwise they might think you’re just being nosey. Want to do it now?”
“Sure thing. Call out if you need me. Sophie should be here any minute.”
I sat at the kitchen counter and opened my laptop, finding the list of email enquiries we’d received on the website. I clicked on the contact details for someone at Nettco Electricity, a woman by the name of Beth Matson. I pulled out my phone and dialed her number. She answered almost immediately.
“Jennifer Carlisle’s office, Beth speaking.”
“Hi, Beth. This is Bailey De Luca from Cozy Cottage Catering. You enquired about us catering a function?”
“Yes, that’s right,” she replied brightly. “But I’m sorry, we gave the business to another caterer.”
“That’s why I’m calling. You see we’re doing some market research,” I thought Paige would be proud, “and it would be really helpful if you could tell us why you chose not to use us.”
“Why?” Her tone changed. Gone was the bright and friendly voice from seconds earlier.
I had to do some quick thinking. Working in the hospitality industry had taught me a thing or two about customer service. “So we can make sure we get it right the next time.” I held my breath, waiting for her to respond, half expecting her to hang up on me. I don’t know why I thought that, exactly—people can be irrational, can’t they? “We’d really appreciate your help,” I added as a last-ditch attempt.
“Oh, all right, but only because us girls need to stick together.”
I sat and listened to Beth as she told me all about how her boyfriend had done the dirty on her and how all men were idiots, particularly her ex. Eventually, after lots of “I hear you” and “that’s terrible” from me, she got to the crux of the conversation.
“We gave it to another place called Devour Catering. They said they could do the same type of menu as you, discounted by twenty percent. I remember he called it his ‘Cozy Mansion’ offer. A weak play on words if you ask me, but we couldn’t pass up that twenty percent discount.”
Cozy Mansion? I tapped my foot against the chair leg.
“Did you share our menu with them?” I tried not to sound as aghast as I felt.
“Heck, no! As I said, we girls have to stick together.”
I had stopped myself from pointing out that Beth hadn’t exactly stuck with us.
“He was pretty smooth, too. Good looking in a kinda sleazy way, if that makes sense?”
“Do you remember his name?”
“Hold on, I’ll get his card.”
As Beth rustled through papers, I tapped my chin. Calling their offer the “Cozy Mansion,” discounting our prices by twenty percent? I may have been jumping to conclusions, but it felt like we were being targeted. Only, I had no clue how.
“Here it is. Eddie Smith.”
I’d never heard of Eddie Smith.
“Thank you so much, Beth. You’ve been really helpful.”
I hung up and immediately called one of the other contact numbers. Six phone calls later, and I started to get a picture of what was going on. And I wasn’t happy about it.
I snapped the laptop shut and walked out into the café. Sophie was working the coffee machine and Paige was serving a line of customers. I dove in to help, shelving my conspiracy theory for later when I could speak with Paige alone.
That time came later in the day, once the lunch rush was over and the café had begun to wind down for the day.
“And was it the same catering company every time?” Paige had an incredulous look on her face.
“It sure was. It’s called Devour.”
“Oh, my gosh, I’ve heard of them!”
“It’s run by a guy called Eddie Smith.”
“Eddie Smith?” Paige shook her head. “Not a name I know.”
“Me neither. It’s not surprising though, is it? We’ve only been caterers for the last few weeks.”
“But why would he target us with this ‘Cozy Mansion’ thing? I don’t get it. It’s not like we’re the big fish here. We’re a new start-up business, with hardly any experience.”
“Exactly. How could he know who has contacted us for quotes?”
“Hold on a second.” Paige walked over to the counter and opened my laptop. She tapped on the keyboard, her brows knitted together in concentration. After ten seconds focusing at the screen, she leaned back on her heels and looked at me, her face aghast. “Oh, no.”
“What is it?” I peered over her shoulder at the screen. It was the catering contact page on our website Paige had shown me when she set it up. My eyes trailed down the screen. I let out a gasp. “Oh, no,” I echoed.
Every one of the people who had contacted us for catering quotes were listed on the page, with their requests, email addresses, and requirements. We’d inadvertently advertised all our potential clients to the world on one page!
Paige’s eyes bulged, worry written across her face. “Bailey, I’m so, so sorry. This part is meant to be private. I must have messed it up somehow.” She clicked onto another screen and started tapping away on the keyboard once more.
“How did it happen?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll fix it . . . somehow.”
I let out a heavy sigh. “Well, at least we know how this Eddie Smith guy got the information. I guess that’s something, at least.”
Paige stopped tapping and turned to me, her eyes wide. “That’s true, but what we don’t know is why .”
She had a point, and I was determined to find the answer.
Later that afternoon, I sat in front of my laptop researching Devour Catering and Eddie Smith. Although I found Devour’s site, with all its slick presentation and elegant photography, I couldn’t find a single piece of information on Eddie Smith.
He was an enigma, that was for sure. An enigma who had targeted our new business for no apparent reason.
I looked up from my screen to see Paige coming into the kitchen, followed by Marissa.
“Hi, Marissa.” I wondered what she was doing here at this time of day—and why she was in the kitchen. Usually she and Cassie came in for coffee and cake mid-morning, sitting at their favorite table by the window.
“Hey.” Her smile seemed forced, unnatural.
“I’ll leave you two to it. I’ve got customers to serve.” Paige threw me a look before she left the room.
I knitted my brows together. “What’s up?” There was no point in any preamble.
“Look, there’s no easy way to put this so I’ll just come out and say it.”
I closed my laptop. “Okay.”
“I’m not sure you should date Ryan.”
I bit my lip. I should have seen this coming. Marissa had warned me off Ryan when I first met him and again not that long ago. She’d told me he was a broken man, totally messed up about women—all thanks to his ex. To be frank, I was kind of surprised she hadn’t mentioned him to me again in the weeks we’d been dating.
The problem was, I was beginning to develop feelings for him, feelings I hadn’t had for anyone in a very long time.
“Look, Marissa, I know what you’re going to say. You think he’s all messed up over his ex. We’ve talked about it, and I really think he’s moved on. He’s good. We’re good.” I smiled at the thought of Ryan—and the way he made me feel.
She drew her lips into a thin line, studying me. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“I know he’s your brother and you want to look out for him. I totally get that. But so far it’s all been great.”
Marissa opened her mouth to respond when there was a loud rap on the back door.
I put my finger in the air. “Hold that thought, okay?”
She nodded, and I walked over to the door and opened it.
“Hello, Bailey,” said an elegant older woman in a pants suit and string of pearls.
My eyes widened, my heart thudding.
It was Meredith Bentley.
Dan’s mother.