Chapter 7 #3
“That recipe’s been in the family for generations. When you’re ready for your coffee fix, hit up Good Day Coffee just down the road. My Aunt Jill runs the place, and if you tell her I sent you over, she’ll give you a discount.”
“Oh, perfect.” The woman shifted a shopping bag from one arm to the other. “We’ll head over there now. Come on, girls.” She waved at Declan and, with a final look and smile behind her, ushered her daughters out the front with a merry jingle of the bell Lily had put up last week.
A cough barked from Declan’s left. His eyes skated across the counter—to the other side of the blue tape—and found Lily arranging her platter of full-size samples, not for the first time. Lips pursed, she refused to make eye contact with him.
Funny, that hadn’t been her response yesterday when?—
Nope. He wasn’t going back to that moment where he’d almost, nearly, yes wanted to abandon all his clear thinking.
“So that’s your brilliant marketing move. Flirting.” She tied back her hair in some sort of quick knot that bared the soft curve of her jawline. Not that he was noticing.
“I hardly think smiling at her constitutes flirting. She came in, tried samples from both of us, and chose mine.”
“Really. That’s what you’re going with.” She shook her head.
He gave her a smile. “Do I detect jealousy?”
Her mouth opened. “I’m not jealous. But really—there’s no other reason someone would choose plain chocolate over this sticky toffee pudding masterpiece.” Lily pulled a piece of white fudge with chopped pecans from her sample plate and waved it in the air.
“Someone who likes the classics would.”
“Wrong. Someone who was hypnotized by the man behind the counter.”
“Really. So now I have hypnotic powers?”
“Oh brother.” She shook her head. “I suppose some women might find the Top Gun look you have going on attractive.”
Her gaze flitted down him—today he wore dark wash jeans, Amberjack leather boots, a white T-shirt, and his aviators hanging from the collar.
“Top Gun?”
“Whatever.” She lifted a shoulder, but what looked like a blush stole across her cheeks.
Interesting. Maybe it was time to address what had happened yesterday, again. They were both adults. And yes, he hadn’t handled things well after Isaac had left, but she’d been the one with the deep freeze. The tape down the room.
And maybe he’d gotten a little annoyed with his attempts at asking what was wrong—and her not answering him.
“Lily—”
The bell jingled again, and in walked two twenty-something women.
“Welcome in!” Lily called, turning away from him.
The women, one blonde and one a redhead, looked back and forth between Declan and Lily, at the two registers, the blue tape, the two platters of samples, Lily’s significantly larger than his. “Do y’all have the same fudge?” the redhead asked in a Southern accent. “Why are there two registers?”
“Oh, just a little friendly competition we’ve got going on.” Lily waved them over.
The women exchanged a look and a shrug before approaching Lily’s side. Declan tried to busy himself with pulling more chocolate fudge from his display case and chopping it for the sample platter, but couldn’t help watching from the sidelines.
“We’re looking for some fudge for our mama,” the blonde said.
“Fabulous. I’ve got at least fifteen different flavors.” Lily’s voice was bright, vivacious. Okay, she did have a way with people—other people, not him—that seemed genuinely warm. “What does your mama like best?”
“Oh, well, I’m not sure.” The blonde peeked at her sister. “Kerry, what do you think?”
Kerry pushed at the roots of her already large hair. “Can we try a few to see what we think would strike her fancy?”
“Of course.” Lily pushed the sample platter forward.
Each sample was about four ounces compared to Declan’s half-ounce samples.
“Feel free to try whichever ones you’d like.
I’ve got your classics, of course—peanut butter, almond sea salt, white chocolate—and then some that are more unique, like bergamot, lavender, and chocolate-cherry.
Oh, and for the truly adventurous among us, I’ve got some lemon blueberry mascarpone fudge in the back. ”
“Oh my, those all sound amazing,” Blondie said. “Would you mind if we tried one of each?”
Now it was Declan’s turn to cough. Was the lady serious? With the way Lily had cut her samples, that was nearly two pounds of fudge she was giving away for free.
Lily shot him a glare before turning back to her customers.
“Not at all.” Lily used a pair of tongs to lift each sample onto a disposable plate.
“Feel free to sit at the window bar if you need a little time to decide. The fudge is sold in one-pound blocks, but I also sell sampler boxes where you can mix and match.”
“This is great. Thank you.” Kerry took the plate from Lily and walked toward the counter-height bar that ran in front of the eastern-facing window along Jonathon Boulevard.
Lily dusted off her hands and turned to Declan with a triumphant grin. “Guess I was right.”
“About what?”
She came closer and lowered her voice. “Only some women find the Top Gun look attractive.”
“Hmm.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her eyes sparked.
“Just that those women took you for a sucker. Look.”
Kerry and Blondie were already standing from their stools as they wrapped their fudge in napkins and stuck it into Kerry’s purse.
When they noticed Declan and Lily’s eyes on them, Blondie had the decency to smile sheepishly.
“We thought maybe we should have lunch before trying this fabulous fudge, so we’re gonna eat at the café across the way.
We’ll be back to make a purchase though.
” With a wave, they slipped out the door and headed across the street to Martha’s.
“They are definitely not coming back.”
“You have such little faith. I’m choosing to believe.
” Lily stuck her nose in the air and started humming as she refilled her platter with fresh samples from inside the display case on her side.
It was much fuller than Declan’s—he’d only had yesterday to make fudge, while she’d had several days to build up a stockpile—but since they’d opened this morning at ten, she’d only made a few sales next to his twenty.
And don’t get him started on her record-keeping system—an old-fashioned receipt stake next to the register compared to his integrated accounting program on his tablet.
He should just let it go. Let her fail. That was what he was here for, to beat her.
But she’d shown him how to make fudge. And without her doing that, there would be no competition.
Declan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can I give you a tip?”
“I’d rather you not, unless you mean the legal tender sort.” She held out her hand for the cash.
“It’s not.” He stared at her a moment. “It’s business advice.”
“Now you’re going to wave that big MBA around?”
“It isn’t like that. You helped me. I’m trying to return the favor.” Declan pointed towards her sample platter. “You’re giving away too much.”
Lily crossed her arms. “I want them to know what they’re getting. It’s only fair.”
“Sure, but you’re giving away enough to fill them up, to satisfy them. Give them just a little taste. Enough to make them want more. To tease them.”
As if mocking his words, her vanilla scent reached out, hit him.
He cleared his throat, moved back to his register.
Pretended to dust off his iPad. Stared at it for a moment.
Turned back to face her. “The point is, Lily, you’ve got excellent fudge.
You’re really talented, and I would hate to see you not reap the rewards simply because your business tactics need a little tweaking. ”
She winced and turned away. What had he said? But before he could ask, the door opened again and Dani Sullivan stepped inside. A tall man wearing a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes walked in beside her.
“Hey, guys!” Dani said. “How’s it going?”
“Great!” Lily’s cheer was back as she greeted her friend. “First day officially open and we’re already making sales.”
“That’s fabulous.” Like Lily, Dani seemed to have endless amounts of energy, and though just as casual as others on the island in her jeans and T-shirt, she seemed organized.
After the mixer two nights ago, she’d already emailed out charts and diagrams of the upcoming Main Street Festival, with a map of the booth, a list of assignments, and an FAQ of all the details the business owners were required to know.
“What can we do for you, Dani?” he asked, eyeing the stranger beside her.
“Oh! Sorry.” She glanced over at the man and patted his arm. “This is Asher Quinn, Terry and Angela’s nephew, who’s looking after their ranch and horses while they’re away on their RV trip.”
Declan held out a hand over the counter. “Good to meet you, man.”
Grunting, the man stepped forward and shook Declan’s hand. He wore scars on the right side of his neck that his beard didn’t fully cover.
“Yes, hi.” Lily came up, smiling.
A lump rose in Declan’s chest to see it directed at Asher. Guess Lily wasn’t the only one jealous.
“You’re staying at the Quinn ranch?” she asked. “My friend Sadie’s grandma lives next door. Do you know Henrietta Hudson? She’s the absolute sweetest.”
Asher glanced at Dani, back to Lily. “Hetty’s why I’m here, actually.”
Dani leaned on the counter. “I caught him trying to sneak into Doug’s without being noticed, and we got to chatting and he mentioned he was in town to grab a little something for Henrietta’s birthday.” She eyed him with a smile. “Isn’t that sweet?”
The poor guy reddened. “Just being neighborly,” he mumbled under his breath.
“Oh, but Henrietta does love sweets,” Lily said. “She used to own the bakery here in town, you know.”
“That’s why I brought him here, to the best place I know to come for sweets.” Dani winked at Lily. “Oh, but—sorry, Asher—before you guys fight over him as a customer, I’ve got two exciting things to tell you, and then I’m off.”
“Sounds fun!” Lily said.
Forget fun. Hopefully the news would profit their businesses.
Ahem. His business.
“I’ll just come back later.”
Before Dani could protest, the guy slipped out the door again, hands tucked in his worn jeans.
Dani frowned but turned back to Declan and Lily. “Okay, first, I got you both a job for this weekend.”
“What kind of job?” Declan asked.
Lily crossed her arms over her chest. “What Mr. Rude-Pants means to say is, yay! That’s so exciting.”
Dani laughed. “No, no, that’s fair. Feel free to say no, Declan, but it would give Lily a significant lead over you, so I wouldn’t if I were you.”
“Noted.”
“There’s a wedding happening on Saturday.
So yes, in two days. Caleb Kennedy over at Island House Inn called me asking if I knew of anyone who could do some last-minute dessert catering.
Apparently, this couple booked mainland vendors for almost everything, and their dessert caterer had an emergency and can’t make it.
Their main caterer doesn’t have the capacity to add desserts to their order, so”—she waggled her eyebrows—“of course I suggested you guys. The only catch is they want both ice cream and fudge for about fifty people. Is that something you guys can do?”
“I can.” Lily smirked at Declan—the same look she’d worn far too often lately when she thought she’d bested him.
Well, two could play at that game. “I can too. The fudge, that is.”
“I’ll make both fudge and ice cream.”
Oh, brother.
“Awesome,” Dani said. “Okay, one more thing. As you know, the upcoming festival is a small part of my strategy to shine light on Jonathon Island again. To start getting back into people’s social feeds, to drum up excitement for next season, when we’ll have part of the hotel open for business.”
Declan nodded. “Right.”
“I reached out to a newspaper in Detroit and told them all about it. They’re going to send a reporter out next week—Wednesday, in fact—to interview our shop owners and publish a piece about the re-emergence of our little island. A piece of Michigan, reborn.”
“Dani, that’s fantastic,” Lily said.
“I’m really thrilled. The reporter—Kent Mercer—said the piece has the kind of appeal that might get picked up for syndication.” She paused, as if for dramatic effect. “Especially when I told him about the Fudge Wars.”
“Oh no, you didn’t,” Declan said.
“Really, Dani?” Lily’s expression probably betrayed his own.
“Oh, come on. You have to admit there’s an interesting story here. A family feud more than fifty years in the making, and the newest generation fighting for the Main Street shop?”
“We’d like to forget that war,” Declan said as he finger-quoted the words, glancing at Lily.
Her jaw set tight, her arms folded.
“But it’s so small-town,” Dani said. “And besides, we all know that it’s not a thing anymore.”
Hello, did anyone see the blue line of tape down the center of the shop?
“I’d much rather people visit us for our fudge,” Lily said rigidly.
“Yeah, but the extra press would be good for business, especially if it gets published beyond Detroit,” Dani said.
Declan sighed. “I suppose it would get people in here, and that’s the goal.”
“Exactly.”
“When would the article come out?” Lily asked.
“Not sure, but hopefully in the paper’s weekend edition so there’s a few weeks between it and the actual festival. He’s going to promote the festival too. Oh. And the guy wants to sample your fudge so he can give his opinion as part of the piece.”
And now, Dani smiled.
Uh-oh. Maybe this wouldn’t be good for business after all.
Because in a head-to-head battle of whose fudge would rank better in a food reviewer’s opinion?
Lily Hart had it in the bag.