Chapter 3
3
NOELLE
I preheated the oil in a large pot over medium heat. Then I whisked the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt in one bowl, and the buttermilk and melted butter in a second. I was only half paying attention to my task. I'd done it so many times; I could do it in my sleep. When they were done, I'd drop off at Cal's deli downtown.
I added the dry ingredients to the wet and stirred. Once the dough was rolled into the proper shape, I placed the dough into the oil, frying both sides. Afterward, I moved the donuts to a rack to drain. Once fully cooled, I'd add the icing, which was my favorite part.
I wanted to be known for the taste and the unusual designs. Chocolate icing and glazed were a staple each week. I added sprinkles or colors depending on the holidays, and then I worked on specialty flavors, like maple, s'mores, and cinnamon sugar.
It wasn't uncommon for the store to sell out of five hundred donuts by eleven on a weekend. Weekdays were a little slower. I wiped the sweat from my brow as I watched the next batch of donuts fry. I could do this so much faster with an industrial kitchen, but for now, all I had was my tiny apartment kitchen.
The only good thing about this location was that I lived here alone. I'd stayed with my mom until I was twenty-four, when she told me it was time to live independently. I was there to help with my siblings, and I hated moving away from them. But now that I was here, I reveled in the quiet, clean space.
Now, I had to make time to stop over at Mom's to check on them a few days a week. There was always something that needed to be paid: field trips, computer fees, school lunches, or even groceries. I preferred to find the bills and pay them before my mom ever saw them.
It was a system that worked. If Mom didn't know about the field trip, then she didn't need to worry about it. Besides, all I had to pay for was the rent and utilities on this place. I didn't allow myself other luxuries. I had businesses to run and build. A family to support. I took care of myself. Mostly.
As usual, I let my mind wander while I was baking. I wanted my mom not to worry about money. I wanted my family to live in a nice house, one that I bought for them. My gaze drifted to the second-hand couch in the living room and the TV screen. I wanted time to relax on the couch. I couldn't remember the last time I watched TV.
I was always running from one thing to the other, and when I was home, I was working. I could make my dreams come true. I just had to focus on the end result and take one step at a time.
I repeated the process until I had trays of five different flavors of donuts. The trays with lids were a necessary business expense. I needed a way to transport my donuts. I carried the trays one by one into the store. The deli was popular in the morning for its breakfast sandwiches.
I placed the first trays of donuts in the display cases and left the rest of them in the kitchen.
"Thanks for dropping those by. The customers love them," Danny said.
"That's so good to hear." I constantly worried that what I had to offer wasn't good enough. But when I picked up the empty trays later today, I'd get a sense of satisfaction.
"We really need more. We've been selling out more and more quickly."
The space between my shoulders was tight from leaning over the stove and counter for hours in the morning. I wasn't sure I could make more. Not without sacrificing necessary sleep. "That would be great."
"I think Cal wanted to talk to you about it."
I swiped the hair that had fallen out of my ponytail off my face. "I have a few minutes."
He nodded down the hallway in the direction of the office. "He's in there."
"Thanks, Danny."
"You make chocolate icing? I'm supposed to take a few home to the kids," Danny called out to me.
"I always make chocolate, Danny. You know that." I grinned at him before I walked toward Cal's office. I knocked on the door.
He looked up from his computer, then gestured for me to sit in one of the chairs across from him. I sat gingerly on the cushion that had seen better days. Cal was more interested in quality ingredients and food then the decor.
"Danny said you needed more donuts?" I wasn't sure how I'd manage to make more donuts, but more sales meant more money for me. I'd make it work.
"Customers are complaining about the cost."
I frowned. "I don't think three dollars a donut is unreasonable. They're larger than what is sold in other stores, and these are fresh."
"We could sell more if you lower the price."
I put up with a lot in my life, but undervaluing my work wasn't on the agenda for this morning. I still had to deal with Killian. "In this case, your customers are paying for donuts they can't get anywhere else." I continued before he could ask me to reduce my prices for a third time. "How many more do you want?"
"Let's start with an extra hundred on Saturdays and Sundays. But you're on notice. If we get any more complaints about the price, we'll have to lower them."
I ground my teeth. "The donuts are three dollars apiece; that allows for both of us to get a profit. You're not authorized to lower the price. If you do, I'll take my donuts elsewhere."
Cal held up his hand. "I heard that you're already selling them at the lodge."
"The lodge isn't in direct competition with your shop. It's for the guests who wouldn't venture here." We didn't have an exclusivity agreement, but Cal liked to throw his weight around. He didn't think anyone else would sell my donuts. He was the only breakfast place in town.
I needed to placate him if I wanted the extra money every week. But it was hard, sweaty work, and it had to be done early in the morning. I wouldn't be making any profit if he reduced the price.
Cal waved a hand at me. "A hundred more on Saturday."
I took that as my dismissal, because he'd turned his attention to his computer screen. "Have a good day."
I had to deliver two more trays to the lodge. In the dining room, I arranged the donuts on the smaller display case near the buffet.
"Did you save some for me?" Marcus asked when he refilled the scrambled eggs.
"Good morning to you too," I said as I moved the donuts one by one into the case. It was quicker at Cal's because I could put a whole tray of donuts in the case. It was easier to switch out. But I enjoyed talking to Marcus when he was working.
"You know I love your donuts," Marcus said.
I laughed. "Like you can't make your own. Everything you cook is wonderful."
Marcus snagged a chocolate-icing donut from the tongs I held and took a large bite. His eyes closed, and he hummed. "I can't bake."
I shook my head just as Joey, Oliver's son, ran up to me. "Is there one for me, Miss Noelle?"
I leaned down to talk to him. "Of course, there's one for you. I made one special with green sprinkles."
His eyes lit up. "Green is my favorite color, and I love sprinkles."
I grinned at him as I grabbed the small box I'd prepared just for him. I lifted the lid and held it out to him. "Here it is."
"Dad, can I eat it now?" Joey asked his father, who'd appeared behind him.
Oliver nodded. "Sit at the table."
Joey snagged the box and was gone before I could say anything else to him.
"He loves your donuts."
I smiled. "I'm glad."
"But you didn't have to make him a special donut."
"I don't mind."
"How many donuts did you take to Cal's this morning?"
"Five hundred."
Oliver whistled. "That's a lot. What time do you have to get up to make those?"
I shook my head, a smile playing on my lips. "You don't want to know."
Oliver nodded, and that's when I noticed that Killian was slightly behind him leaning on his crutches. I set the tongs down and stepped forward. "Why don't you sit, and I'll grab you a plate."
Killian shook his head. "It looks like you have your hands full."
"It can wait," I said as I assisted him to the nearest chair at the same table with Joey, whose lips were smeared with chocolate.
"You're a baker?" Killian nodded toward the display case that was still hanging open.
"That's right."
"Is this the business you didn't want to talk about?" Killian asked, his muscles tensed as if he was in pain.
"It's not a secret. I've been selling the donuts here and at a shop in town." I kept most details about my life from others. Whenever anyone asked how many businesses I had or how much time I spent with my family, they usually had something to say about it. And I liked to avoid the judgment.
"Why not tell me what you needed your mornings for?" Killian asked.
I shrugged. "I'll grab you a plate of food, so you can take some medication."
I grabbed a plate, piling it high with food. Then I placed it in front of him along with utensils, a napkin, and syrup.
Joey was licking the icing from his fingers. "Can I have another?"
"You've had enough," Oliver said.
I transferred the rest of the donuts to the display, and then I took the small box I'd reserved for Marcus into the kitchen.
"You didn't have to do that," Marcus said when he saw the box on the end of the counter.
"You like them." And I liked doing things for other people.
"I want to pay for them."
I shook my head. "Not necessary."
"It's very necessary." Marcus wiped his hands on a towel and made a move for his wallet.
I backed away with my hands in the air. "We're friends, and friends don't pay for donuts."
Marcus raised a brow. "You're running a business?—"
"I can fry a few donuts for friends without expecting payment." Then I backed out of the room before he could hand me cash.
Eli waved me over to the family's table. He looked happy, probably because all of his brothers and his cousin Walker were all in one place for once."
I stood at the end of the table. "Is everything okay?"
"Why don't you get something to eat?" Eli waved a hand at the buffet.
"Oh, I already ate." A banana while I was watching donuts fry. But then my stomach rumbled, and Eli raised a brow.
I huffed a sigh. "Fine."
I moved to the table, taking eggs, fresh fruit, and a muffin. The only empty chair was next to Killian.
"How's your patient?" Eli asked me.
"Grumpy," I said simply, and everyone laughed.
Killian pursed his lips. "That's not fair."
"You have been grouchy. Don't run off Noelle, okay? She does a lot around here," Eli said.
"No one will run me off," I said, digging into the fluffy eggs. I was starving. Usually, I ate fruit or a granola bar on busy days. Sitting down to eat was a luxury. I didn't mention that Killian couldn't run me off because I needed the money I got from the Wildes. I helped with parties from time to time, and recently, they started buying donuts from me. They didn't balk at the price like Cal did.
"Is Cal giving you a hard time?" Carolina asked me.
"Why would you say that?" I asked her, my stomach dropping.
"I read online that people are complaining about the price of your donuts," Carolina said.
"He said something about it." If it was on social media, maybe I should consider reducing my price. But then it wouldn't be worth my time.
"Let me guess, Cal didn't offer to reduce his percentage of the profits?" Eli asked.
I laughed without any humor. "Of course not."
"Whenever you're ready, you can sell your donuts exclusively here."
I shook my head. "You don't get the traffic that Cal does. I'm not sure I'd sell six hundred donuts here."
"You're selling six hundred donuts a day?" Killian asked me.
"And they sell out before lunch." They were selling out more and more quickly. I thought it had something to do with word of mouth. But complaints wouldn't help my business. I wondered if I should cut back until I could be sure the demand was still there.
Oliver whistled. "That's amazing."
"Yeah, it's been steadily growing." It was guaranteed income from week to week that I used to help my family. I didn't always have parties booked or interior-design jobs. It was past the holidays, so the steady income I'd been getting from the Wildes for holiday decorating was over.
"You're a personal assistant, and you make donuts?" Killian said.
"That's right." I picked up whatever jobs I could. But I wasn't going to tell him that. He didn't understand what it was like to hustle. He'd always been gifted with talent and luck. Sure, he worked hard in his field, but he was rewarded handsomely.
"Our Noelle is a hard worker," Eli said proudly, as if I was somehow related to him and the Wildes.
" Our Noelle?" Killian asked.
A slow smile spread over Eli's face. "We treat her right, which is why eventually she's going to leave Cal and give us exclusive rights to her donuts."
"Exclusive?" I'd been reluctant to do that because I preferred selling to whoever wanted my donuts. More sales were better than exclusivity, or at least that's what I'd assumed.
"You only sell your donuts here. Not at Cal's."
I frowned. "He gets good traffic on Main Street in town. Here, I'd only be getting guests of the lodge."
"We're planning to offer programs for locals, yoga on Sunday morning, guided nature walks in the summer."
Killian looked from Eli to Oliver. "Who's leading guided nature walks?"
"Xander. It was his idea," Oliver said simply.
"Hmph," Killian said.
I wondered what he was thinking. Did he feel left out because the rest of his family was so invested in the resort?
"Are you serious about my donuts?" I asked Eli.
He nodded. "We want them, and we're willing to do whatever it takes to get them."
"Your negotiating tactics aren't the best. You're laying your cards on the table for anyone to see." Killian leaned back in his chair.
"You must not know Noelle very well. She's stubborn. We have to pull out all the stops to get her to work with us." Eli winked at me.
I chuckled. "That's not the case."
"Isn't it?" Oliver asked seriously.
"Are you offering to help because of my mom?" Maybe some misplaced sense of responsibility to my family?
Eli shook his head. "Our business dealings with you have nothing to do with your mom. Our guests love your donuts. We know the value of a good thing when we see it, and it's always better to pay for exclusivity. When you're ready to discuss it, schedule a time to meet with me. I'm sure you'll be pleased with our offer."
My neck stiffened. "How can you be so confident?"
"Like I said, we know a good thing when we see it, and we don't let it get away." Eli's gaze shifted from me to Killian.
"I'll think about it." My mind was racing with the possibilities. Was this the right move?
Marcus stopped by my chair. "It would be easier to cook the donuts in an industrial kitchen."
"I don't need it—" There was no way I'd ask for special favors.
Marcus inclined his head. "Where are you cooking now? Your tiny studio apartment stove? That must take forever to cook all those donuts."
My face heated, and everyone's gaze flicked to me.
"You can use whatever you need," Eli said simply.
After I finished eating, I said goodbye to everyone and then ducked into the kitchen to have a word with Marcus. He looked up from the dish he was plating, grinning to find me standing there.
"Thanks for selling me out," I grumbled to him.
"I hardly think it's selling out when you're negotiating a good deal. It only makes sense that you use this beautiful kitchen." He gestured at the shining stainless steel dream kitchen that I'd love to work in.
But I screwed up my face and pointed a finger in his direction. "No more donuts for you."
The loud guffaw followed me out to the dining room.