Chapter 13
Katie debated whether or not to let Ian into the factory.
She didn’t want to invite him into any other part of her world, but what if he were able to help?
What if he could avoid problems with the engineer?
Wouldn’t it be worth it? It took her a full day to consider the pluses and minuses of his proposition, and she finally acknowledged that she’d do anything to fix the issues with the company—even enlist Ian Finnegan’s help.
She called him the next morning, and they agreed to meet at seven that night, when the building was quiet, and no one would see him.
She’d like to pretend he looked out of place when he asked questions about a machine, or a process, and that those questions were random and not well thought out, but that wouldn’t be true.
He asked about the product flow as he scanned the length of the building and the various stations.
“There’s quite a bit of wasted space here.
The distance between prep and cooking is costing you time.
If we move them closer together, you’ll be more efficient.
We’ll clock how long each process takes, and we’ll identify the bottlenecks. ”
It was one thing to know how to make a signature soup people wanted to eat, but finding a way to get it to those people? That was the challenge.
“What do you think about a large cooler at the start of your process? We can then create several production lines, each one dedicated to a small group of soups with similar processes and ingredients. That way, your product can move quickly to the next step.”
Katie listened to Ian’s laid-back recommendations, relaxed when she acknowledged he wasn’t pushing his ideas on her.
He was providing information and giving her the choice to do what she wanted.
But what he said made sense. The man did have a knack for efficiency, and he certainly knew how a manufacturing plant operated.
If she listened to his suggestions, maybe when the engineer showed up, there’d be minimal questions and fewer issues.
Did she want to trust Ian Finnegan’s instincts and recommendations?
No, but she wanted Katie’s Soups to succeed, and her gut said this man could help.
After the third meeting at the facility, she invited him to her house to continue working on recommendations for efficiency improvements.
If they kept meeting at the shop, even if it were after hours, someone would eventually notice Ian’s truck in the parking lot.
The foreman had on occasion shown up for various reasons, and she wouldn’t risk him seeing Ian in the building.
How would she explain his presence? There would be too many questions and no good answers.
So, she’d done what she had to in order to continue their work and keep her association with him private. When she invited him to her place, he’d hesitated a second too long before he accepted. I’m getting hungry, he’d said. Would you like me to pick up something?
Sure. The word was out before she could yank it back. Katie rarely ordered takeout and mostly lived on her homemade meals unless she was traveling. It would be a nice change to eat something she hadn’t created.
Okay, see you at seven?
Seven it is.
She should have known Ian Finnegan would not appear with a burger and fries.
No, the bags had Harry’s Folly stamped on them.
And the contents? Veal Picata, Mushroom ravioli, salads, and bread with dipping sauce, and of course dessert.
Chocolate lava cake and raspberry cheesecake. Plus, he’d brought a bottle of wine.
Ten years ago, he’d brought her food from Harry’s Folly and they’d sat across from one another at the same kitchen table. Cozy. Intimate. So wrong.
Katie took a sip of wine, then another. “I’ve had this wine before. It’s one of Harry’s favorites.”
He nodded, saluted her with his glass. “Ever notice how Harry has a lot of favorites? The man does love his wines…” His blue eyes twinkled. “Almost as much as he loves his food.”
That comment made her laugh. “Yes, he certainly does. When I visited a while back, he confided that he made recommendations based on a person’s mood.
If they seem happy, he suggests the mushroom ravioli or the penne with spinach and garbanzo beans.
Sentimental? The bolognese is the choice.
The appetizers are another story with more moods attached.
And the desserts? Harry insisted if you’re having a rough day, one taste will change all of that.
” She recalled the tray of goodies he’d brought out, how he’d offered each one and told her to take the rest home.
It’s always an experience, he’d said. An experience indeed.
The cheesecake had been one of her favorites until he added key lime pie to the menu.
And then he added a triple chocolate lava cake.
Who wouldn’t call that a favorite? Until–
“Already thinking about dessert?”
His voice dipped, reminded her of the warm triple chocolate lava cake she called her new favorite. “Trying not to do that.”
A low laugh and then, “Harry said I had to pick more than one.”
“Of course he did. Did he ask what you planned to do with all this food?”
Another laugh, a shake of his head. “Nope. I’m somewhat of a regular there, but I usually just pick up. I love that food. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a good chicken slider and you can’t beat O’Reilly’s burgers.” He eased open the container of mushroom ravioli. “But nothing tops Harry’s pasta.”
Katie took in the lean build, the strong arms…
he did not look like he consumed massive amounts of carbs every week.
“Lucky you. If I ate this much all the time, I’d be in big trouble.
” It’s not that she had to watch everything she ate, but she couldn’t be foolish.
Want a big slice of chocolate cake with peanut butter fudge icing?
Sure, but she better make sure she didn’t have an equally large slice the next day or the next.
And while she didn’t love exercise in the formal sense, she made sure she moved—a lot—especially since she’d started her desk job.
The days of chopping wood and rototilling had all but disappeared, but she did still garden and harvest. And–
“You’ll always be beautiful.” Ian cleared his throat, concentrated on opening the container of salad. “I mean, don’t people always say real beauty’s within?”
Nice recovery. She hadn’t missed the look he gave her when he said those words, as though he weren’t talking about inner beauty at all.
“Anyway, watch out for Harry. He’s way more nosy than he was ten years ago.
And while he always means well, he does tend to poke and prod.
Once the dissection starts, you’re pretty much done.
He won’t let it or you go until he finds answers, even ones you don’t want to share.
I’m glad he didn’t start poking around.”
A raised brow, a chuckle. “The man was definitely poking. From what I hear, he’s been doing a lot of that since he got the Godfather of Magdalena title.
Thinks it’s his duty and his business to know what’s happening to everybody.
” He lowered his voice, mimicked Harry. ‘Just casual observation and then a tweak here and there. That’s all I’m trying to do. ’”
Katie laughed. “As if we believe that one!”
“He’s a good guy and far less inquisitive than Pop Benito.”
“You remember Pop?” That surprised her. Ten years was a long time to recall acquaintances.
“I met the guy twice the last time I was here. You don’t forget a character like Pop Benito.
” His expression softened, his words matched.
“I’d never met anyone like Pop. Straight shooter, not afraid to make you think.
Tossed out questions and possibilities you hadn’t considered.
He tried to talk to me about my father, but I wasn’t interested in hearing him.
I liked the guy though, and I sure loved his pizzelles. ”
“He’s still as feisty as ever, but since Harry took over the Godfather job, Pop likes to stay in the background…
unless they’re tag teaming to get someone to listen.
” They’d done that with her when she announced her engagement to Jackson.
Him? What? Why? Harry Blacksworth had stared at her as though she’d spoken a different language.
A week married to that man will age you ten years.
Pop had similar thoughts. He reminds me of a soda pop that’s lost its fizz.
You sure you want that? The sour expression on his face said he wasn’t a fan of the man or the marriage.
Well, they’d both been right because the engagement “lost its fizz” before they had time to confirm a venue.
“I’d like to see Pop again.” He placed the chicken and ravioli on their plates, scooped out salad, and added a slice of bread. “I keep thinking I’ll run into him, but it hasn’t happened yet.”
Katie tore off a hunk of bread, dipped it in the olive oil and spice mixture. “You won’t find him at O’Reilly’s, but he’s a regular at Lina’s Café. Just be careful because Harry’s usually with him, and I’m not sure you’re ready for a tag team effort.”
That comment made him laugh. “I can handle them.”
“Uh-huh. That’s what they all say, until they’re caught in the middle of an interrogation and can’t escape.
” The look on Ian’s face said he might be re-thinking his desire to track down Pop.
“Anyway, he’ll probably find you soon enough, and don’t think he hasn’t been gathering information for future use.
I just want to make sure I’m not part of that information. ”
“Got it.”
“So, let’s talk about something else. Do you love the anise pizzelles or do you favor vanilla?”
“Anise of course. Anything else doesn’t measure up.”
“Agreed. I’ve always favored anise, but most of my friends prefer vanilla. Do you know there’s also chocolate, orange, lemon, and just about any other flavor you can imagine?” She took a sip of wine, pondered the first time her ex-fiancé tasted a pizzelle, and almost spat it out.
“Those are imitations.” Ian forked a chunk of salad, slid his gaze to hers. “Nothing quite compares to the real thing.”
Oh, there was definite heat in those words. The man might look different than he had ten years ago, but he was still the same Ian Finnegan. She’d forgotten how charming he could be, how he could make his voice dip, make her insides jumble, make her want–
“But sometimes you have to take what you can get, so you settle.” He popped a tomato in his mouth, chewed.
“It’s not bad, but you never forget the taste of that anise pizzelle.
The sweet uniqueness as it consumes your senses.
One is never enough. Three is only a starter.
” He held her gaze, his eyes shifting to liquid silver.
“You devour five, ten, maybe twenty, and you still want more. That’s when you start to wonder if it will ever be enough. ”
Katie clutched her fork, waited for him to say more because he was clearly talking about a lot more than a pizzelle.
When he remained silent, she couldn’t help herself.
“And if it isn’t? What do you do then?” They were definitely talking about relationships and how they’d felt about each other all those years ago, and maybe nothing had ever been the same for him after that summer…
A shrug, a half-smile as he sipped his wine.
“You come to terms with what is and stop wishing for something different. But when you see something that reminds you of a pizzelle, you think of the one you really want, and you might taste the other one, but all the while you’re imagining something else. ”
Or someone else? This was getting too personal. She had to stop him before he pulled her in further, and she started asking questions. “Well, you’re here now, and Lily Desantro is helping Pop with pizzelle making. I’m sure you’ll be able to get as many anise pizzelles as you want.”
One more pointed stare, a nod, and then a quiet, “That’s what I’m hoping.”
Katie shifted the conversation to questions she’d been wondering since she saw him again. “So, what have you been doing all these years? Did you stay in California?” She tried to act nonchalant as though his answers didn’t matter, but they did.
“After I graduated, I moved around a bit, landed a few engineering jobs which I absolutely hated, invested in a few companies… mostly small stuff. I seem to have a knack for it, and one of them exploded.” The smile inched across his face, his expression softening with his story.
“Great guy, excellent product, but he didn’t have the capital.
That’s where I helped him out. I earned back my investment in eight months.
Between contracting with Max and the investment projects, I’m pretty busy. ”
All these years, she’d pictured him living off of his father’s money, not supporting himself, not following his dreams. What he’d just shared provided a very attractive visual.
She pushed aside thoughts of Ian’s determination and grabbed onto her next question.
“Can you tell me about the companies you invest in? It sounds like you’re giving them a shot and they’re having success because of it.
” Katie thought of her own investor, the one she hadn’t met yet.
That person had given her a shot, and she would be forever grateful.
Ian tore apart a piece of bread, dipped it in the olive oil and spices. “Well, there are five right now, but I’m looking at two more. Two are related to the automotive industry, one is in tech, the other is health, and the last one is prepared foods.”
“Do you find them, or do they find you?” She’d never pictured him as a businessperson, but he definitely was.
“I pay attention, read the business magazines and articles, but it’s not just about the product or the possibility for expansion.
I want to know about the owner. What does he or she think about their company?
What’s the vision? Is it to grow X percent per year?
Is it to expand nationwide? And what are they willing to do to get there?
If they’ve got a stellar product, but they want to vacation every other month, or expect someone else to come up with a plan?
I’m out. The person has to have passion, and it’s not enough to create a marketable product.
You have to be objective, have foresight, and when something isn’t working, you can’t make excuses.
You have to be willing to listen and adapt. ”
There was something in the way he said those words that made her think he was talking about her and Katie’s Soups. “You mean, like me?”
“Yeah.” His voice dipped, swirled around her like a soft blanket. “Like you.”