by Anne Hagan
“I don’t care about how it tastes,” West shouted into the phone.
Hannah’s hands shook as she put him on speaker and turned the volume down again before placing the phone on the kitchen counter top, out of Jef’s reach. She sputtered for something to say to him. “Mr. West, I’m really sorry but my understanding is, the bidders are going to want an edible cake.” Her mind ran wild, wondering why he would want such a thing and where they would store and maintain a large, show cake, for more than a month were they to even attempt it. It’s just crazy, she thought.
“I talked with your instructor there two, maybe even three weeks ago about this. The least you can do is start working on my ideas for the design. Why did you wait so long to call me?”
Dana tiptoed into the room and stood by, listening quietly.
Hannah shrugged toward her and spread her hands. To the client she called out, “I’m sorry Mr. West. There must be some misunderstanding. We only just got the assignment Saturday evening.”
“We?”
“There will be teams of two students working on each cake. I’m working with another student by the name of Morgan Barber.”
When West didn’t respond, Hannah took a deep breath and continued, “We’d like to come by your office tomorrow afternoon, late or early tomorrow evening and discuss the cake with you.”
“Can’t you come today? We’re wasting precious time, putting this off another day.”
“I’m sorry Mr. West but Morgan is working today. We had hoped to stop there and see you before our class tomorrow night.”
“Why do both of you have to be here? Why don’t you come yourself?”
Hannah looked at Dana. The older woman shook her head no. She stepped over and put a protective hand on Hannah’s shoulder.
“Again, I’m sorry Mr. West, but it’s a team project for school credit and Morgan needs to be there too. Wha...when would be a good time late tomorrow afternoon or early tomorrow evening? We have to be in class about 15 minutes away from you at 6:30 PM.”
“Come at 1:00.”
“I...I can’t make it then Mr. West. I have a job as well and I work tomorrow. I can can make arrangements to be in Zanesville to meet with you by 4:00 PM at the earliest.”
“That’s not going to work for me. I guess I’m just going to have to call your school and request a student who is a little more eager for this ‘assignment’, as you call it.”
Hannah threw up her hands. Dana took one and squeezed it, offering silent encouragement.
“You can certainly call the culinary department Mr. West but, I assure you, all of the students in the baking phase of the course have been assigned a to sponsor and everyone is already working to come up with design ideas and set up meetings.”
“Have you and this Morgan come up with any design ideas?”
“We’ve thought of a couple of things in line with the theme but, of course, client input is the key.”
“Right you are. Why don’t you just go ahead and give me your ideas now so I can ponder them, talk with you instructor about them and what have you?”
Dana stiffened beside Hannah and started to speak but the younger woman put up a hand to stop her. “I can’t do that Mr. West. It’s not up to me alone to do that. You’re welcome to call the school, of course.”
“I’ll just do that, then,” West said. With that, he hung up.
Hannah looked at Dana. Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I didn’t even know what to say to him. I’ve never had to talk to anyone who was like that; so...so...”
“Rude? Condescending? A total asshole?” Dana supplied.
Hannah nodded and swiped at her eyes.
“Who is he, anyway?” Dana asked.
“His name’s Graham West. He works for a company called Barnwell Incorporated. They do something in advertising.”
Dana rolled her eyes. “Yeah, billboards. That’s what they do. Their name is on billboards all over the county advertising for ambulance chasers, fast food...”
“Huh?”
“Ambulance chasers...lawyers,” Dana said.
“Oh.” Hannah rubbed a hand along the top of her head and down her neck. “What do I do? I mean, I was supposed to set up a meeting with him for me and Morgan and then call her and tell her about it and now...I don’t know.”
“Why don’t you call your school and give them a heads up about this guy, Hannah? Call before he does.”
“I wouldn’t know what to say to them either. Besides, he probably already called them.”
“Do you want me to call them?”
The younger woman let out an exasperated breath. “No. I better do it.”
Dana stood by while she looked up the number in her cell and then dialed it from the house phone. She waited while Hannah asked for the chef, only to be told he wasn’t in, he was at the site of his soon to be open restaurant in Columbus.
When Hannah hung up, Dana asked her, “Do you have his cell number?” At her answering nod, she asked, “What are the chances your school gave it to this West guy?”
“I don’t think they would. He told us to call him about anything but not to give it out to anyone else.”
“There you go, then. Give him a call, fill him in and ask him what he thinks you should do.”
“I’m so sorry Chef.”
“No, no, Ms. Yoder. It’s fine. I’m glad you called me. You’re a good student. So is Ms. Barber. Neither of you deserve to be treated that way.”
“Customers can be difficult,” Hannah said.
“Yes, they can but it’s not an excuse in this case. He hasn’t even met you. You give me his number. I’ll call him and then I’ll get back to you.”
Hannah’s face fell. “I don’t want to make trouble.”
“I’ll call the school first; find out if he called there and what he said. Don’t worry. I’ve been dealing with restaurant critics for years. This man will be easy to deal with.”
Hannah paced the floor around Jef as he sat playing a game only he understood with a collection of blocks and cars all around him. Boo alternated between walking alongside her and sniffing at the toddler’s toys, her bobbed tail wagging all the while.
When the phone receiver she held in her hand rang, she checked the number and then answered it softly, “Yes Chef?”
“Mr. West is a handful, Ms. Yoder but I believe I’ve managed to calm him. He did call the school and he tried to make trouble with the receptionist too. I took care of that.”
“Thank you, Chef. What...what happens now?”
“You and Ms. Barber have an appointment with him at 4:00 tomorrow as he says you attempted to set up with him. He says he will be on his best behavior, for whatever that is worth. I plan to be there as well to see that he is.”
“That...that isn’t necessary.”
“I think I better, Ms. Yoder. But, if you like, I can make my presence known and then step out once the two of you are settled in.”
Hannah gave that a few seconds thought. “I guess that would be all right.”
“It’s settled then. I’ll meet the two of you in front of the Barnwell building at 3:55. I trust you’ll inform Ms. Barber?”
“Yes Chef.”
Chapter 7
Tuesday Afternoon, November 10th
The Offices of Barnwell, Inc.
Morgan and Chef Fourneir stood, a little ways off from the reception desk in the outer office at Barnwell, Inc., while Hannah spoke with the pleasant looking older woman seated behind it.
“We’re here to see Graham West,” she told her. “We have a 4:00 appointment.”
The woman started to make a face but then quickly masked it. Ignoring the computer sitting on the left side of her desk, she picked up an old-fashioned appointment book, opened it and ran a finger down the page. “Two students from Zanesville Tech?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“And you are?” She looked at the chef, decked out and looking official in his white jacket and black pants.
“Chef Tomas Fo
urneir, their instructor.” He smiled and drew closer, extending his hand to her.
The receptionist beamed back at him. “It’s a pleasure to have you here, Chef.”
Fourneir turned on the charm. “The pleasure is all mine,” he said as he took her hand a squeezed it briefly, over her desk as he leaned in and brushed both cheeks lightly with a kiss.
Nervous, Hannah and Morgan both missed her slight blush as she rose and said, “I’ll just be a minute. Let me go and see what he’s got himself up to.”
When she left the room, Hannah smiled nervously at Fourneir. “She seems nice.” She clutched her course binder a little tighter.
Morgan, who had been given a brief explanation of the Chef’s presence outside the offices, busied herself smoothing her hands over the uniform jacket and slacks both she and Hannah wore. She gave Hannah a tight smile when the receptionist reappeared.
“He says he wasn’t expecting you, Chef, but the three of you can see him now in the conference room. This way please.” She started back through a doorway just to the side of her desk and down a short hall with the three of them following.
West wasn’t in the room when they arrived. Hannah busied herself taking the packet they’d been given and the sketch sheets with the ideas she and Morgan had managed to come up with out of her binder while they waited.
There were all still standing, waiting quietly when Graham West appeared five minutes later, a few minutes after their scheduled time. He was far younger than Hannah had thought he might be. She’d expected to be meeting with a middle-aged man and instead found a scruffily dressed man before her who couldn’t have been more than two or three years older than herself. She would put him at no more than 25, if that.
West glanced at both women and then walked right to Fourneir, his hand out. “Chef, so good to meet you.”
The Chef took the offered hand and shook it as he introduced himself but then he stood back, not offering the more customary French greeting to the man before him. He dropped the hand he’d shook and held his own hand out in the direction of Hannah and Morgan, to his right.
“I’d like to introduce you to Ms. Hannah Yoder,” the finest baker we have in our program this year. She has a stellar resume and references cooking and baking from multiple establishments in this area I’m sure you’re familiar with including a baking apprenticeship at Adornetto’s.”
Blushing, all Hannah could do was nod toward West and shake his hand.
“And,” Fourneir went on, “We also have Ms. Morgan Barber, who could be a fine sous chef anywhere right this, her present employer, Bistro Boufey, included. She’s well on her way to becoming much more and she’s got artistic skills some of my other students can only dream about.”
It was Morgan’s turn to blush. “Thank you, Chef,” she managed. “Mr. West,” she said by way of greeting as she offered him her hand as well.
The pleasantries out of the way, and in the presence of the Chef, West became all business. “Please sit,” he said, indicating the conference table. He went immediately to the head of the table and sat down. Hannah and Morgan took the two closest seats to them, side by side. Fourneir glanced at his phone and hung back.
“I’m expecting a call,” he explained. “I’ll wait right here and when it comes through, I’ll just step out.”
“Please, do what you need to do Tomas. I know you’re a busy man. So am I. This will be a brief meeting. Very brief.”
Their backs now to him, the two young women missed the look of displeasure that crossed the Chef’s face but Graham West didn’t. He turned his attention to them as he cleared his throat and pointed toward the things Hannah was now laying out on the table. “Why don’t you show me what you have?”
Hannah began, “The theme the TWIGs have chosen this year is ‘Family, Friends and Fun at Christmastime’. Playing off of that, we’ve come up with a couple of ideas that focus on the family aspects.”
She watched West’s face as he knitted his brows and seemed to frown but he didn’t speak so she plowed on. “The first idea we had was to do a traditional three to four-tiered cake in white with edible sugar photos of the employees of Barnwell and their families. There could be holiday colored or themed accents on the cake.” She slid a mock up design Morgan had scrawled out toward him.
West didn’t even look at the rendering; just shook his head no. “That’s not going to work at all. What else do you have?”
“Oh...okay.” Hannah’s voice took on a slight tremor. “We know Barnwell is an advertising company so we thought of some ideas that could incorporate a sculpted cake and fun things people could do either in the winter or year-round; things you might advertise.”
“Sculpted how? As what?”
Morgan picked up a couple of the papers Hannah had in front of her and flipped through them to show him her designs. “We could do skiers on a slope, or a family riding in a car loaded with gifts, or a surfer on a board wearing Santa Claus board shorts, or...”
The chef’s phone buzzed behind them, interrupting her spiel. They all turned toward him. Hannah tried to hide her surprise. She thought he’d been making that story up.
He raised a finger to indicate he’d be a minute and he stepped out.
When he was out of earshot, West’s tone changed. “Here’s how it’s going to be,” he began. “I’m doing a tree already that is an homage to our Barnwell clients. They’re the key here, not the employees. No one would have a job here if it wasn’t for the people who pay the bills. Right?” He looked from one to the other of them and waited until they both nodded.
“The boss trusted me to make this the best showing Barnwell has ever had at the damn TWIG bazaar. I’m not going to let a cake screw it up for me. The cake you produce needs to fall in line with my tree design. It needs to be all about our clients.”
Hannah thought about what Dana had said about the types of billboards Barnwell typically put up. It was all she could do to keep from shuddering as she tried to imagine a cake decorated to represent lawyers and fast food franchises.
Morgan found her voice first. “What do you have in mind, Mr. West?”
He pointed a finger at her and shook it as he eyed Hannah. “See, that one knows how to get right to business. You ask the client what they want.”
Hannah held her tongue.
He turned his attention away from her and focused on Morgan instead. “What I want is something that includes the logos they use or anything else that represents their companies. I have a file I’ll have Rose give you when we’re finished here that has all their names and their areas of concentration. Look them up and see what you come up with.”
“What about the theme?” Hannah asked.
“What about it? That’s not important here. It’s optional,” he said as he glanced her way before turning his attention back to Morgan.
“The cake will be auctioned at a private dinner for the sponsors and volunteers Mr. West,” Morgan said. “Will your clients be present to bid?”
That slowed him down, but only for a moment. “You just let me worry about that,” he replied after a few beats. “I know what appeals to buyers. I’ll want to see design ideas from the two of you later this week. Now, I’ve got an appointment to make, so let me show you back to the receptionist and she’ll get you that file.”
Chapter 8
Tomas Fourneir was standing outside the building when they emerged. “How did it go?” he asked them without preamble.
“Not well, Chef,” Hannah said. “He wants a cake full of logos representing their clients.”
Fourneir frowned. “Whatever for?”
“Because, he says, they’re the ones paying the bills,” Morgan said. “He gave us a folder full of companies to look up to get ideas.”
Hannah held it out to Fourneir. He took it, opened it and skimmed through the paperwork inside. “Wendy’s? Captain D’s? Those are franchises. Their logos are trademarked. Trust me, that is territory you do not want to get into.”
“So what do we do?” Hannah asked.
“Put your heads together. Research this company, if that helps. Come up with a few more ideas and run them by me in class later in the week. I’ll back you, whatever you decide. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a few things I need to get done before class tonight. Ladies.” He nodded at both of them and then turned toward the parking lot leaving the two women to stare after him.
Hannah turned to Morgan. “Do you live close?”
“Uh...not really. Why?”
“We have two hours until class. I thought maybe we could go to your house and work on some new ideas, since we’re here, in town.”
“No, no.” Morgan looked panicked. “It’s a mess. I...I’d be so embarrassed.”
“It’s okay,” Hannah said. “I don’t mind.”
“There’s a coffee shop just around the corner. I passed it on the way here,” Morgan said in a rush. “Let’s go there. If I go back home, I’m not going to want to go over to school. I’m a little tired.” She stifled a yawn.
“I may have left the order but Christmas is...it’s still very special to me. It’s not about clients and logos and money...not the way Mr. West thinks of it, anyway. It’s all marketing and profit making to him,” Hannah said as she leaned on the little table with her fingers at her hairline, rubbing her temples.
Morgan stirred her mocha latte and nodded.
“I can’t do such a commercial cake. I won’t.”
“What do you think we should do, then?”
The strawberry blond sighed and leaned back leaving her tea untouched. “That, I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far out.”
“He wants design ideas by the end of the week.”
Changing tacks, Hannah said, “Let’s just do an actual tree cake with ornaments only instead of logos we do hamburgers and ambulances and car wrecks and...”
“Whoa! What?” Morgan gave her an odd look.
“You heard Chef Tomas. We can’t put logos on the cake. Er, maybe we could but we shouldn’t but Mr. West wants it to be all about these clients.” She tapped the folder on the table beside her. “It won’t be what I’d like it to be but it should make him very happy.”
