Chapter Four #2
Sensing that I was stalling, I took a stroll down Main Street to check out some of the local artisan shops. As I started to pick a direction, I bumped into a man carrying an overnight banking bag. Tall fellow, good-looking, with bits of sawdust in his hair.
“Excuse me,” I said with a smile as I stepped aside. He paused, stared at me as if I had sprouted another head, and then frowned. “I was not watching where I was going. Your town is so pretty it held me spellbound.”
That seemed a polite way to make excuses.
“Uh-huh,” he mumbled as we stood there outside the bank like two gunfighters sizing each other up. Only I was not looking for a fight. I was searching for a local shop where I could find a gift for Capucine and Haider.
“You look to be a man who works with wood,” I stated in my friendliest manner. A warm wind blew down the street, rustling American flags and shaking the green leaves on the elm trees lining the road.
“Why do you say that?” he asked curtly.
“You’re covered in bits of wood,” I pointed out.
“Oh.” He glanced down at himself. “Yeah, I make things. Things out of wood. Why?”
“I was hoping to purchase a gift for two possible future business partners. Where is your shop where you make things out of wood?” I was doing my level best to be courteous to the man.
“Outside of town. Maybe you should buy something from a big store to help drive another small business out of business.” He made a face as I gaped. “Yeah, just order from that mega online mart.”
With that he stalked around me, bits of fine wood dust falling from his wide shoulders.
Okay, so not everyone in New Hampshire was friendly.
Feeling the sting of his words, I made my way to a boutique that carried floofy women’s clothes, scented candles, and delicate little beaded earrings and bracelets.
I purchased a lemon yellow shawl for Capucine since she was tart like a lemon.
Then I picked up a bracelet with bright blue beads.
The color of the beads matched the color of Haider’s eyes.
I laid it down beside the register with haste.
Not wishing to investigate why I had purchased such personal things, I left the store smelling of incense, and crossed Main to stand outside Harmony Chocolates, feeling rather unsure of my approach as well as the gifts in my hand.
The craggy bark of my grandfather to get it done in my ear I stiffened my spine.
With shoulders squared I once more entered the lion’s den.
The silver bells rang out. Haider Gray was just exiting the production room with a tray of freshly made chocolate—what I guessed to be peanut butter—cups when he spied me. Those stunning eyes of his widened. The swinging door to the candy magic room slapped shut behind him.
“I come bearing gifts,” I said, extending the two bags outward.
That was when I heard her to my left. “Am I hearing that evil voice again?” Capucine asked, stalking out of the office with her hands on her hips. “Why are you coming back?”
Haider stood stiffly, peanut butter cups resting on a large silver tray covered with wax paper, his curls shoved under a net. He had a smudge of milk chocolate on his cheek. It was an adorable little smear and—
“So, you are not talking even now?” Capucine’s voice pulled me from my admiration of Haider’s cute smudge.
I turned to face the lioness. “I came with an offering of peace and goodwill to all chocolatiers.”
“Pfft,” Capucine said, folding her arms over her tidy Harmony Chocolates apron. I could hear the clatter of an industrial mixing machine in the back. Vanilla scent filled the store. “I have no good will for that toad you call Opa. I know he took my recipe for apricot berlingots.”
I stared openly at her. “I have a shawl for you.” I could not imagine my grandfather taking a candy recipe from a fellow confectioner.
Yes, he was shrewd but a thief? No. Still, she seemed to believe it.
“It’s soft yellow. The color reminded me of the sunsets in Paris.
” She rolled her eyes so hard I worried she would topple over.
Haider, through all of this stood like a statue holding his cups.
I shot him a glance. “I also found a present for you. A handmade bracelet from Miss Marie Moody across the street.” With infinite care I passed the bag with the shawl to Capucine as one would hold out a bite of meat for a tiger.
“The beads are blue. Like your eyes.” That made those pretty eyes of his flare.
“I mean no harm and am not here to spy. I merely wish to speak to you about your futures.”
Haider slid his tray onto an empty display case made from butter-toned wood with beautifully detailed legs.
He stared at the bag then at my face then plucked it from my fingers.
Capucine had lifted the shawl from the brown paper bag, her nose wrinkled in consternation.
“I know that you are both diligent workers with much love given to this shop. I also know that the times they are changing as your Bob Dylan would say.”
“Our futures are very set,” Capucine replied. “This shop has stood here since nineteen sixty-eight and it will stand for many more years.”
“Yes, yours is Madame Aubert as you are very—”
“Say old and I shall kick your deceitful ass so hard you will fly back to Berlin with no plane,” she growled as she shook a finger at me. I did not doubt she would do it.
“I would never,” I said with a timid smile.
“Old is a state of mind. But, perhaps Haider would like to know his future is secure? Sales are not good, this I know, and I have come all this way with a very generous offer. One that ensures that both of you could know financial security for years to come. Please, I just wish to sit down over coffee with you two to discuss something that could lift all the worry from your handsome grandson’s face. ”
A long, uneasy silence fell over us. Capucine fingered the shawl then crammed it back into the bag, her fist lost in brown paper and yellow yarn up to her elbow.
Shit. The door opened, the silver bells tingled, and I glanced over my shoulder to see Edgar entering the shop.
He seemed more than a little disturbed but came to stand at my side as always.
Capucine shoved the now bagged shawl into my chest then with a lightness in her step went to greet Edgar.
“Bonjour monsieur,” she cooed as she neared him.
Edgar gave me a confused look. I replied with a silent bob of my head telling him to play along.
“It is not every day we are graced with such a bel homme so early in the morning.” She batted her lashes as she positioned herself along the display case in a most come hither manner.
Edgar’s eyes were wide as the pancakes I had for breakfast. “Tell me you are looking for sweets for your wife and I will be broken in my heart.”
Haider made an odd sound, much like a monkey choking on a pomegranate as the little Parisian flirt made her move. I could not blame her. Edgar was a most handsome man.
“No, no, no wife,” Edgar stammered out.
Capucine appeared so very sad. The minx. “What a pity. Who cooks for you when you come home from work? Or sews your lost buttons?” Capucine asked with a toss of her short silver curls. Oh, how they bounced.
“Mamie, if the buttons are lost how can anyone sew them back on?” Haider asked. The lady gave him a withering look. “Okay, yep. Well, this is all nice and good but we can’t accept your gifts.”
“Oh, that is a pity. Edgar, my friend, we are not wanted here. We shall return to the inn to lick our wounds as our grievously injured hearts break.” I held out my hand for the bag with the bracelet. Haider passed it over.
“His accent is German. Little toad, is this man part of your spy network?” Capucine asked sharply, her sad eyes lingering on Edgar.
“No, we are not spies. Edgar is my friend, a dear family friend who gave me love and support when I was small after my father died in a horrible accident leaving my mother in a state of deep, dark grief.”
Edgar threw a glance my way. Yes, I was laying it on thick.
While my father had died my mother had not mourned him.
Edgar, who had been my mother’s butler, had taken care of me when I was home from boarding school while she was off being a rich widow with a revolving bedroom door.
Little had changed over the following thirty years.
Only the number of lovers visiting her bedroom had dwindled.
“So it is only you who is the heir saboteur. Edgar, you poor man, stuck working for such toads. Come with me, I will take you to the coffee shop where we shall sit and talk about our pasts with such sneaky peoples.” Capucine, in a moment of pure scamp, stalked over to me to take back her shawl.
“I will take this for the color looks good on me but do not think a small gift will repay me in full. No trinket can replace the heart and soul I lost with the thievery of my darling apricot berlingots!”
With all the gaudery of a Hollywood starlet, she flung the shawl around her shoulders before taking Edgar by arm. My factotum and dear friend threw a beseeching look my way. I smiled sweetly as I hurried to open the door of the candy shop for them.
“Enjoy your coffee,” I said graciously.
Edgar would get a nice bonus in his pay packet. And perhaps an extra week off over the holidays. Capucine swept past me, chin up, Edgar stumbling along at her side.
When the bells over the door fell silent, I turned to find Haider staring at me warily.
“Your grandmother missed her calling. She should have been part of a nightly cabaret for her heart is pure chanteuse.”
His brow furrowed. “My grandmother is a little high-spirited.”
“One could say that. So, as she is sitting down with the enemy perhaps I could entice you to do the same? Truly, I only wish to make your life easier.”
“You wish to buy the shop that has been in my family for three generations and turn it into some megastore with no heart or soul.”
“Haider, you have been listening to your grandmother for too long. Our plans for Harmony Chocolates are to enhance it in ways that would make you weep in joy. Please, just ten minutes of your time? If you do not like what I have to offer you I will walk away and not come back.”
He knew I was bullshitting him. I could not walk away from here without his signature on a contract. The fact that he was pleasing to look at was a lovely bonus.
“Fine. Ten minutes to get you out of my hair forever seems doable.” He spun on his heel, his sneaker making a loud squeak, and marched into a door with a purple-stained wooden sign reading OFFICE OF THE HEAD CHOCOLATIER crafted in the shape of a top hat hanging on it.
I smiled at the reference as I gave a short prayer of thanks to the chocolate gods for this small opportunity as well as an added thanks for Capucine Aubert’s eye for a handsome man.