Chapter Three #2
Things remained silent for a whole minute or two as we all tried to digest what had just happened. It was a lot to take in. And while I mourned the loss of that castle I felt a fire begin to smolder deep inside. It was not one that Conor would be able to put out with his hose.
Oh yuck, that sounded slutty, but yeah, this fire was internal. The enemy had arrived on our shores. To arms! They must be driven back and to hell with their beautiful eyes and plump lips.
This was a candy war and there could only be one victor.
I WAS FIT to be tied when I pushed into Lucy’s Bar on the corner of Main and Periwinkle.
My day had been shit. Not just regular shit but mega nasty shit.
And all due to that brazen sexy bastard, Phillip Brauning, strolling into my shop as if he already owned it.
Talk about balls. I mean, seriously, what kind of person flies all the way from Germany to seal a deal on a tiny candy shop in the wilds of New Hampshire?
Why did Brauning Chocolates even want my store?
There was something hinky about all of this and I needed a beer and commiseration.
I would find both here. Lucy owned this little hole-in-the-wall sports bar and she was one of the best people in Caldwell Crossing.
The cook, Mary, made the best blue cheese burgers this side of the Rockies.
I was now over the Alps. I was sticking strictly to American mountains and men from here on out.
Oh sure, we didn’t have novice nuns twirling about on the flowery mountain tops of Montana but we had cows, motherfucker.
Big old American beefers. Moo howdy. And I was going to eat some of that American beef for dinner tonight. Hashtag ‘Murica.
The bar was midway filled with locals. My boys were in our corner booth by the old gas pump from a Citgo station Lucy’s dad had run during the seventies.
Why it was here no one knew. Probably someone had it installed it for sentimental reasons.
I lifted a hand at the brunette behind the bar.
The barkeep, Lucy, nodded as she pulled some mugs for the guys at the bar.
It was dark in here, kind of depressing, and filled with Caldwell Crossing nostalgia.
The gas pump just one of many things from various businesses that time had pushed into closing.
Mom-and-Pop stores, little local grocers, craft shops.
So many gone. And my candy shop would likely be next…
“I think I met and then lost the man of my dreams,” I announced to the table as I dropped down next to Ryan.
“Who is it this week?” Conor asked.
I glowered as Sam poured me a glass of cold Gansett, the unofficial beer of New England.
“Fuck all the way off,” I snarled, gulping my beer as the other three began talking about some silly baseball team score thingy. “Hey, pardon me. I am totally having a midlife crisis here and you’re talking about touchdowns?”
“Haider, its baseball.” Ryan said with a tender smile.
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. Who cares who got a goal in the baseball game. The Fisher Cats stink. There I said it.” I was in a mood.
Every male head, and Lucy’s, spun to give me dirty looks.
No one dissed the feeder team for the Blue Jays around here.
“I was kidding,” I tacked on to quell the dark glower from Lucy. “They rock. Go baseball.”
“Haider, what has you so wound up?” Sam asked as he poked a finger into the bowl of mixed nuts.
“Dude do not do that. Where has that finger been?” Conor asked.
“Guys, hey can we not get into finger placements? I had a visit from Satan today,” I told my friends.
“Did he buy all the truffles?” Conor asked while tugging the nut bowl from Sam. Ugh, that man and his truffles.
“Okay, for starters, I just washed my hands before I sat down.” Sam shot Conor a glare. “I just want the hazelnuts.”
“I like the cashews,” Ryan chimed in. “Did you know that cashews are a shade of green before being roasted? I saw a show about how they process them. It was really fascinating.”
“Those peanuts are my favorites,” Conor interjected. I rolled my eyes. “They sell the best roasted peanuts outside the Fisher Cats games. We should see about getting some tickets and—”
I stood so quickly my chair toppled backwards. “Pardon me, can we stop talking about nuts and focus on my horrible day?!” Several of the older men at the bar snickered. “Oh grow up. Just because we’re all queer doesn’t mean we’re discussing man nuts all the time!”
Lucy gave me a glower. I sat down after righting my chair.
“Haider, would you please tell us about Satan coming into your shop today,” Ryan said as he patted my shoulder.
I sniffed. Now I didn’t want to tell them a thing. But I would because someone needed to be on the lookout for the German spy master who had infiltrated our community.
“Okay, so this beautiful man walked into the shop,” I opened with.
“Satan was beautiful?” Conor asked then chucked a hazelnut to Sam who smiled sweetly.
“They say that the devil comes in many forms. I bet if he showed up at the candy shop to see Haider he would look like Henry Cavill in The Man from U.N.C.L.E .,” Ryan tossed out then took a swig of beer.
The ballgame on the TV above us was turned way down.
“I mean if the devil was looking to tempt Haider it would be with some tall, older man with nice clothes. Tell me that I’m wrong. ”
No one did because he was not. Yes, I did like older men who dressed well. Sue me. That kind of confidence made my dick hard.
“Guys, can we focus here? My archnemesis has arrived in the states and ate one of my ganache bonbons,” I said as I waved my hands in the air to try to get them to zone in on this horrid situation.
“You have an archnemesis?” Sam asked.
“Well, yes, obviously. I assumed that the Brauning family was some old German meanie who liked to pick on small candy shops, you know, flex those corporate muscles. They reached out to me several times to ask about buying the shop. I sent poop emojis back as my reply. So then the old man meanie turns up today in my shop! But he is not an old man at all. He’s tall and handsome and smells like sandalwood warmed in the sun.
Do not titter behind that nut, Ryan, I’m serious! ”
“Just so I have this straight. Satan showed up wearing Gucci loafers and salt-and-pepper scruff. He ate a bonbon. Has Mamie been adding Grand Marnier to your coffee at the candy shop again?” Conor asked as a person with a bat hit a ball on the TV, which made the men at the bar cheer.
“No, she has not done that since I got tipsy that day and coated my…you-know-what, I don’t think any of you are being good friends right now,” I huffed then let my head fall to the table.
“Sorry, hey, we’re kidding. We love you,” Sam said then the others joined in, mostly rubbing my curls to make them full of static. I picked my head up, sniffled dramatically, and decided to give them one more chance before I exited with panache. Not unlike Phillip had, but with less strut.
“Phillip Brauning is here in Caldwell Crossing and he’s after my tangy yuzu petites!” They all stared blankly. “Candy. It’s a candy. Guys, seriously. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Right sorry. And this Brauning guy wants your zuzu patties for why?” Conor asked with confusion.
“No, not zuzu patties. Yuzu petites. They’re tiny little chocolates. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that this man is trying to buy the shop and he’s being pushy.”
All three sobered up. “‘Pushy’ how?” Sam asked around a mouthful of hazelnuts.
“Pushy in like I told him no a dozen times via email and then he just shows up out of the blue with his sexy bare ankles to talk about making me an offer. Mamie says they are spies who came to steal our recipes. I don’t think that’s true, not really, but I do think he’s being far too crafty. So maybe they are spies.”
“Did you say he had sexy ankles?” Conor enquired.
I waved that slip off then sat back to allow Mary to place our burgers on the table.
“Thanks Mary, these look great,” Ryan said shyly as Mary handed us extra napkins. We would need them. She made her way back to the kitchen. I opened my napkin and placed it over my jelly-smeared jeans.
“I think we need to out-espionage him,” I said as I picked up a knife and fork. The guys shook their heads. With a sigh I placed my silverware back to the table and just picked the messy thing up.
“Do you have any ideas as to how to best this candy spy?” Conor asked with what sounded like innocence but I saw the twinkle in his eye.
“Not yet, but when I do can I count on you guys to help me?”
They nodded. We tapped our burgers as a sign of best friend vows. I then filled them in on exactly how Phillip Brauning presented himself, omitting mentions of how handsome he was. Those would just get me odd looks from the guys. Besides, looks were deceiving.
It was all coming together. I’d get the drop on Phillip Brauning and send him and his sexy ass back home. And yes, it was a fine ass. I’d seen it as he left the shop. What a shame. All those poor Alpine cats would be left out in the cold now. Damn the Brauning family!