One Funeral (No Weddings Book 2) (7 page)

She grinned wide. “I’d love to. It’ll be a chance to try my hand at something other than cake making. Maybe Daniel’s not the only one with mad business skills.”

Daniel walked back in, his transfer board empty. “Were you just talking about me?”

Chloe stuck her tongue out at him. “No, Mr. Ego. You were only mentioned as a sidenote. Hannah invited me to go out marketing with her and then to lunch.”

I smiled, enjoying their teasing banter as I grabbed a cupcake box. I began collecting an assortment of cupcakes to give away: carrot cake, red velvet, and chocolate bacon.

Daniel leaned back against the far stainless steel counter, the tips of his black Mohawk quivering as he dropped his head, staring us down from under drawn brows. “You said I had mad business skills. That is
not
a sidenote. It’s a fact. And good for you, Chloe. Hannah had me help with marketing cupcakes to Roy’s. Only fair you get a stab at the business end of things.” He tilted his head, lips twisting into a smirk. “Just don’t break one of your manicured nails or be too disappointed if no customers bite.”

“Pfft.” Chloe crossed her arms, glaring at him. “Women are better at marketing than men.”

Daniel huffed out a dry laugh. “Says who?”

“These two babies right here.” She cupped a hand under each breast and lifted her generous bosom.

Daniel’s eyes nearly bugged out as he stared at her chest. His gaze slowly rose to her eyes. “Watch it, Chloe. We keep things nice and businesslike here for a reason—no drama. You keep flaunting your assets to me, and we might be talking a whole new ballgame.”

“Whoa.” Inside of ninety seconds, the jovial sparring had gotten way too serious. I raised my hands, stepping between them. “Okay, okay. Enough, you two.” I pointed at Daniel. “You, no taunting Chloe.” Then I glanced at Chloe. “And you, no teasing Daniel with your assets.”

Daniel shook his head and began loading another dozen cupcakes onto the transfer board. He seemed flustered, taking twice as long as usual to collect an assortment of the day’s featured selections.

I exhaled slowly. There was a delicate balance in tight quarters with two young, single employees, one male and one female. How did becoming friends with one or both of them work into the mix? Observing their exchange, the several year age difference between me and Chloe made me second-guess myself. I began to rethink the wisdom of making friends in the workplace.

Chloe stared at Daniel a beat longer before moving beside me, mumbling, “He’s lucky I don’t
flash
him my assets.”

My eyes widened, and I stared at her. “Uh, yeah. No flashing assets. No sexual harassment of any kind.”

She smirked, a smug expression on her face. Daniel pretended to ignore our whispering as he vanished again, heading up front.

“I’m just having a little fun with him. It’s great to see Mr. Cool, Calm, and Collected rattled once in a while.”

I folded the lid down into the box while she untied her yellow ruffled apron and hung it on a wall hook. “I think Mr. Cool, Calm, and Collected needs a break from all the estrogen in here. Maybe we can hit the restaurants before they open for lunch.” I grabbed my small purse off the desk and slid it up onto my shoulder, grateful to be getting some fresh air.

As we stepped out into the front area, Daniel handed a credit card and receipt to a college-aged girl along with a pink four-cupcake bakery box. We held the door open for her, and I glanced back over my shoulder. “You got the shop for a few hours?”

He dropped us a deadpan stare. “Yeah. I think me and my ‘mad business skills’ can handle things while the womenfolk flaunt their assets.”

I paused, putting a hand on my hip as I glared at him.

His expression turned contrite. “Fine. I take it back.” He shook his head, closing the window to the display case. “Sorry. Chloe just got me riled.”

She murmured, “Told you.”

He pointed toward the door. "Go. Be smart businesswomen and win them over with your sharp wit and cunning negotiations.”

I rolled my eyes. “Behave while we’re gone.”

“I promise.” He crossed his heart, a mischievous spark in his eye.

We closed the door and began walking down the sidewalk.

“He’s harmless,” Chloe remarked as we stepped carefully along the cobblestones.

I glanced at her, wondering what she thought of the exchange. “Sure makes for a fun workplace, having a guy around.”

She nodded. “It does. I’m glad you hired the two of us. We make a great team.”

“If I don’t instigate you harassing each other,” I muttered.

She snorted and gave me a sidelong glance. “Don’t worry. That was nothing new. He and I go back and forth all the time. We keep it clean and professional, mostly.”

When she said nothing further, I glanced at her again. She wore a broad smile. She certainly wasn’t bothered in any way by what had just happened back at the shop.

Spending a little time with my employees away from work, whether or not it turned into a friendship, would help me better understand my employee dynamic. At the very least, it would enable me to better manage the shop.

The first restaurant we approached was Curio, the same quaint bistro that Cade and I solicited right before Sweet Dreams opened. Only then, we’d handed out cupcakes to the customers waiting in line before it opened for lunch. This time, at almost 10:00 a.m., Chloe and I went straight to their glass front door and rapped on the wood frame.

After a few seconds, I spotted movement inside the dark interior as someone approached. I glanced at Chloe while I held the box of cupcakes in front of us to make it look like we were delivering something. “Would you like me to go first?”

She nodded. But when the young man came to the door, and his eyes alighted on Chloe, she smiled and put her hand on my forearm while he unlocked the door. “On second thought, let me try. I think I got this.”

He opened the door and smiled, looking at me, then glancing back at Chloe. “Good morning, ladies. How can I help you?”

She leaned forward and glanced at his name tag. “Good morning, Richard. I’m Chloe, and this is my boss, Hannah. We’re from the cupcake bakery down the street.”

He nodded. “Sweet Dreams.”

“That’s the one.” She smiled. “Are you the manager, Richard?”

“Yes. The day manager.”

“We were wondering, if you don’t have a dessert menu, might you consider having us supply cupcakes that compliment your fare? Or if you already make desserts, what about adding a cupcake that might round out your current offerings?”

I blinked, impressed with how thought-out her pitch was.

Richard looked at the box. “We offer chocolate cake and cheesecake, supplied by a downtown bakery, and vanilla ice cream. What kind of cupcakes do you make?”

Chloe grinned, taking the box from me and opening it as she stepped closer. She briefly glanced inside at our samples. “We’ll make any kind you’d like. But today, we brought carrot cake, red velvet, and…” She held the box higher, trying to get a look at the side of the third kind.

I jumped in. “And cream cheese frosted chocolate bacon.”

Richard licked his lips, and it wasn’t about Chloe. I think he tasted the chocolate bacon from pure imagination.

When Chloe didn’t jump right on the opportunity to close the deal, I took over. “Can we come in for a moment, Richard? You could grab a plate, and we’ll give you one of each. Then you can take your time taste testing them throughout the day and let us know what you think.”

He opened the door wider and ushered us inside, quickly grabbing a plate.

Inside of five minutes, we stepped out the door three cupcakes and two business cards lighter, one for him and one for the night manager/owner. “Just let us know what you want and how frequently you’d like deliveries. I can fax over or bring by pricing and a schedule.”

“Will do. I’m certain we’ll order something. Great meeting you, Hannah.” His gaze lingered on Chloe as his voice lowered. “Chloe.”

We didn’t take more than a few steps down the sidewalk before she handed me the cupcake box. “Wow!” She stretched her arms out and stared up at the sky as we walked down the sidewalk. “That was amazing. We have to do this more often.”

“Snagging a customer does have a power-trip high to it, doesn’t it?” Her exhilaration was contagious and tempered my worries about this outing. So what if employees needed to be managed? They also had to be encouraged to grow. And Chloe had a knack for sales. “You’re a natural at this. Maybe we can work something like this into the schedule at least once a month.”

My suggestion got me an unexpected hug that made me stumble a few steps to the left, and the box of cupcakes almost teetered out of my hands. We both lunged to support the box and keep it upright.

“I got it!” she shouted as she pulled it from my hands.

“Thank God.” I exhaled a held breath. “Smashed cupcakes would make a sucky first impression.”

Our next stop was a Starbucks, which fell flat because the company has their own bakery. But the owners of the artsy coffeehouse Zen Bean and Sage Leaf took one of each cupcake and asked us to send pricing materials.

By the time we stepped out of the tiny mom-and-pop Italian restaurant Bella Portofino Ristorante with an agreement to create both tiramisu and cannoli cupcakes for a trial run on their menu, my stomach rumbled. We had three cupcakes left, one of each type.

The last stop on our way back to Sweet Dreams was Lila’s.

Lila’s was a new café that had opened a few months back and a place I’d been meaning to try. A garden led from the sidewalk and parking lot to the front door, and we wound along a cobblestone path with mulched borders that had new tulip sprouts breaking through.

A curvy woman with ruddy cheeks and snow-white hair pulled up into a twist came out onto the whitewashed front porch to greet us. “Hello. Come on in. I was just heading out to see if they had the streets blocked off. Been a ghost town in here all morning.”

Chloe and I walked into the restaurant that had the feel of a farmhouse. Framed black-and-white photographs on the walls depicted rural scenes. One focused on a little boy holding a sunflower almost bigger than he was, another of a sleeping dog on a quilt at the foot of a bed.

I turned when the woman followed us in. “Are you the owner here?”

“Sure am.” She picked up two laminated menus from the counter at the back and handed them to us. “Name’s Lila.”

I held out my hand. “Nice to meet you, Lila. I’m Hannah Martin, I own Sweet Dreams, the cupcake shop a few streets over. This is Chloe, cupcake baker extraordinaire and today’s marketing assistant.”

Lila’s eyes lowered to the box in Chloe’s hands. “What are you girls marketing? Cupcakes?”

I nodded, then took a quick glance at their menu. Her café offered an enormous breakfast fare with a smaller section of salads and sandwiches for lunch. “Yes, although I’m not sure how well cupcakes might go with breakfast.”

“Oh, pishposh.” She dismissively flapped her hands down on the last word, then reached for the cupcake box. “I make cinnamon buns that could clog an artery, and they’re a customer favorite. Offer the right cupcakes, and they’ll sell like gold-laced hotcakes.”

Chloe and I exchanged an amused glance as Chloe handed her the box. No other customer this morning sold themselves without a word from us.

“Go on and have a seat and look at the menu. Coffee?”

“Coffee would be great,” I said.

Chloe nodded while we took seats at the bistro set by the sunny front window.

Lila opened the lid a crack, peeking inside. “What flavors do you have in here?”

Chloe repeated the sample selection while Lila’s white eyebrow arched.

“Really? Chocolate bacon will be a surefire hit. Carrot cake too. Not sure about the red velvet. Might be too rich.” She winked at us before turning and disappearing with our box.

Chloe grinned. “Lila’s a character.”

Lila returned with two large cups of steaming coffee. “Cream and sugar are on the table. And I’ll try half a dozen of each of the cupcakes next week. We’ll let the customers be the judge of what they want.

“What can I get you two for lunch?”

We gave Lila our orders, and she went back into the kitchen. Murmured sounds of conversation drifted out from the back, followed by male laughter.

Left alone with Chloe with no cupcakes to sell and no other distractions, the opportunity to talk about non-work things stretched wide open. And as the seconds ticked by closer to the minute mark, the awkwardness escalated. I took a deep breath, then exhaled. “So how is school going?”

“It’s going great. I have no idea what I want to major in. I love art, but my parents are pushing for a more sensible career path, like law or medicine.”

“Don’t sound so excited.”

“Oh, should I tone it down some?” She sighed. “At what point in our lives do we finally get to do exactly what we want to do with the unwavering support of our parents?”

Unable to relate to having parents, let alone them pushing me toward their wishes and not mine, I searched for something consoling to say and came up empty. Instead, I spoke from my meager experience. “I didn’t always know I wanted to bake cakes and cupcakes. But one day in the kitchen, after cooking and baking up a storm for my grandparents and having the time of my life while doing it, I thought maybe I could do what I’m good at and make a living at it.”

She leaned back in her chair. “You’re lucky. I’m still waiting for my epiphany.”

“What about baking? When you interviewed with me, you said you’d been baking since you were twelve. No interest in a career path like mine? Or staying on with me forever?”

She shrugged, then smiled at me. “Maybe. No offense, but I’m not sure I could be happy only baking. I think I need to be out there, interacting with people more. Like today.”

“No offense taken. Everyone has to find their own passion. It’ll come. Just give it time. What about your friends? Do they support you?” She and I hadn’t ever talked much about her personal life, and I had no idea how many friends she had or what they were like.

Chloe laughed. “That bunch of derelict misfits? They’re as undecided about what they want to do in life as I am. We commiserate about it at bars while scoping out men.”