Saving Sandcastles

by Meredith Summers

  “I did it. The water stopped. How soon can you get here to fix the leak?”

  The pause on the other end of the line made Claire’s stomach roil. She took the call off speaker, held the phone to her ear, and swished the towel around with her foot to sop up some of the water.

  “Sally?”

  “Well, I can’t make it there tonight.”

  “What?”

  “I’m in Portland babysitting my grandson. I won’t return to Lobster Bay until tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Afternoon?” Claire had held out a faint hope of Sally sneaking in early in the morning to fix the problem before the shop opened. But without the bathroom fixed, Claire might not be able to open her shop tomorrow at all.

  “You could call Ralph.”

  Claire pushed out a breath. Ralph’s hourly rate spiked to unaffordable after five p.m., but what choice did she have? “I will. Thanks.”

  Claire hung up and glared at the faulty pipes. “Why couldn’t you have stayed fixed for just a few more days?”

  “Who are you talking to?”

  The voice made her jump. Heart pounding, she turned to see Rob Bradford standing in the doorway. She bristled. “You almost gave me a heart attack! What are you doing here?”

  What was he doing there sneaking around at night when all the stores were closed? More corporate espionage?

  “I saw your helpers leave but not you, then I noticed the light was still on and the door was cracked open. I came to check that everything was all right.”

  A likely story. She crossed her arms. “Why were you at your shop so late? You aren’t even open for business yet.”

  “I’m not,” he admitted, a dimple winking into existence in his cheek. “But you aren’t the only person who is preparing for a big event on Saturday. I was baking.”

  “Oh, right.” Claire stood in the doorway, determined not to let him see the mess inside. The last thing she wanted was for her competitor to see that she had a plumbing problem.

  “So, what’s going on?”

  Claire forced a smile. “Nothing. Just doing some baking, just like you.”

  Rob frowned, his eyes drifting down to her chest, where her soaking-wet shirt clung. His left brow quirked up. “You sure?”

  Obviously Claire’s claim of nothing being wrong while she was soaked wasn’t going to pass muster with Mr. Prying Eyes. “Just a little problem with the bathroom sink.”

  Rob’s gaze skirted over her shoulder toward the bathroom. “Anything I can help with?”

  “No.” Maybe he would use the fact that her bathroom was on the fritz against her. Could he call the town and have her shut down? Would he? The earnest look on his face indicated that he had noble intentions, but maybe he was a good actor.

  There was another reason Claire didn’t want to accept help. She didn’t want to admit to anyone that she couldn’t do this all herself, not after she’d fought so hard against Peter’s constant insinuations that Sandcastles would never take off, that she couldn’t make the bakery successful on her own. She didn’t want Rob to think the only reason she could even stay open for the cupcake sale was because he had bailed her out. She didn’t want anyone else to think that either. Most of all, she didn’t want to think it herself.

  “So you know how to fix plumbing?” The doubtful look on Rob’s face only made Claire want to dig her heels in deeper.

  “YouTube has all sorts of tutorial videos. I’ll start there.”

  He must have seen the mulishness in her expression because he leaned forward and added, “I’m pretty good at fixing leaks. I’m not trying to sabotage you.”

  Claire hadn’t even considered that he would make the problem worse. She bristled again. Although he had leaned closer by less than six inches, the air between them felt more intimate. Like they were companions, friends even.

  “I’m sure you are, but I’ve fixed plenty of things in here, and I’m sure a little leak won’t be my downfall.” Claire frowned. Fixing a leak wasn’t exactly like fixing a crack in the tile or a cabinet door. What if she tried to fix it and made it worse? “I don’t want to impose on you. You have your own bakery to worry about.”

  Rob nodded, his gaze drifting back to the bathroom. “True. I’m sure you’ll get this fixed in no time. But the truth is, I could use your help, and if you’re busy fixing your bathroom, you might not be able to help me. What about a trade?”

  Claire was about to turn back to her bathroom but paused, cocking her head. “A trade?”

  “Yep. You’d be doing me a big favor.”

  Claire lifted her chin. “That depends on what the problem is.”

  His smile grew brighter than the overhead lights. “Ever since coming into your shop, I’ve been thinking about the cozy atmosphere you have going. I won’t be able to put anything up before the grand opening, mind you, but I’ve been thinking that it might be nice to add some tables to the front of my store to invite customers to stay a while. The problem is, I have no idea how to do that. If you’ll tell me where to start, I’ll fix the leak in your sink. Sound fair?”

  Claire pursed her lips and tapped her toe. She shouldn’t barter with the competition who had moved in across the street. But without fixing that leak in her sink, she wouldn’t be able to open her store come morning. And if she called Ralph, he would charge an arm and a leg, and there was no guarantee he was even available. What if he was out of town too?

  “You have a deal.” She held out her hand then gripped his firmly as he shook hers. She caught his eye. “But we fix the leak first.”

  He laughed. “You drive a hard bargain. Show me where the problem is.”

  Rob had purposely worked late at his store that evening because he knew Claire would be baking her cupcakes at night after she closed. It was silly, he knew, but he’d been hoping to catch a glimpse of her, maybe even get up the nerve to suggest they grab something to eat.

  From his shop, he could see the side of the building that housed Sandcastles. He’d seen her helpers leave one by one, but after several minutes, Claire hadn’t come out. What was worse, the slice of light spilling out onto the alley told him that the door leading to the kitchen was ajar. Naturally, he’d gone over to investigate.

  He didn’t know what he’d expected, certainly not that he’d end up lying on his back on the damp, mopped-up floor of her bathroom trying to fix a leak in her plumbing. Luckily, the leak had been minor, and he’d fixed it the best he knew how.

  It was a stroke of good luck, actually, and he hadn’t been making up the part about wanting Claire’s help. Okay, so he really hadn’t planned on having a seating area over at Bradford Breads, but her café was cozy and inviting, and it wouldn’t hurt to get her advice on how he could replicate that at his bakery. Besides, he knew she would never let him fix the leak if he didn’t try to make it seem like an equal exchange.

  Who knew? It could be a new beginning for them.

  As he pulled out from under the sink, he stifled a groan. He wasn’t young enough to lie on the floor on his back for that long anymore. He feigned a smile and stood, dusting off his knees. As he’d worked, Claire seemed to thaw toward him.

  She returned his smile, but it was tentative. “Is it fixed?”

  “Should be. Are you ready to give it a shot?”

  She bit her lip and nodded. Although nervous, there was a hopeful gleam in her eye. He bent to open the shut-off valve, holding his breath as he turned the knob. The pipes pinged, but no water came gushing from the seams.

  He turned to Claire and motioned to the faucet handles, confidence making the motion fluid. “Will you do the honors?”

  A faint blush stained her cheeks as she stepped closer to him in the cramped bathroom. She smelled like vanilla. Hesitantly, she reached out to turn on the faucet. Water gushed into the sink. No drips. It looked as though his fix had worked.

  When she turned to him, the relief was apparent in her face. Her eyes had warmed, softening toward him. “Thank you.” She infused a world
of gratitude into those two words.

  He cleared his throat. “You’re welcome.”

  She nodded. The color in her cheeks deepened as she turned away to shut off the taps. With her back still turned, she told him, “Come with me to the front of the store, and I’ll give you some tips on how I set up the café.”

  As they passed the opening separating the kitchen from the café, Claire groped for the light switch. Several lights hanging from the high ceiling shed light on the empty space.

  At night, with no one in the café but the two of them, the space seemed strangely empty, and the emptiness made it seem more intimate. Claire led him past the display case, dotted with the remnants of the day’s baked goods, and toward the door.

  She gestured to the front space. “What do you see?”

  For some reason, he suspected it was a trick question. “Tables and chairs?”

  “Good, but—” She walked forward, gesturing to the nearest table before turning to face him. “Don’t look at them individually. Look at them as a whole. Do you see the way I’ve placed them?”

  “Along the window?”

  She gestured to the tables farther back from the window, closer to the display case and aisle where customers presumably ordered. “The ones at the window draw customers inside, but there’s far too little space there. See how I’ve placed these tables diagonally from those along the window? It fills up the space but shouldn’t cause a problem when customers pull out a chair or leave it there when they’re finished. There’s still a wide enough aisle to walk through. It’s dark out, so you might not be able to see, but that’s what I’ve done on the sidewalk as well.”

  “I remember.” He hadn’t thought anything of the checkerboard pattern of the tables then, but it seemed it had been deliberate. “That’s your secret?”

  She laughed. “Partly. The other part is to make the tables inviting. You see how each table has a succulent?”

  “A what?”

  “The plant. It’s like a cactus, but these are less prickly. They don’t need a lot of water or take up a lot of space, but they help to make the table inviting. It’s more than a place to sit and eat. It’s a place to do the daily crossword or chat with friends. Each table has a holder with folded napkins and a themed bowl for creamer that matches the sugar dish. Yes, I paid a little extra to buy so many with seashells on the side, but I think it adds its own charm to the tables.”

  “I don’t remember seeing any of this outside.”

  Claire sighed. She rubbed the back of her neck. “It’s true. The wind tends to blow away the napkins, and I learned the hard way that if I keep a small potted plant on the tables, customers will walk away with them. So the tables outside are somewhat plain. I try to liven it up during tourist season with some large pots of flowers in between the tables.”

  “I think you do a wonderful job.”

  She met his gaze for a moment, almost shy. Then she turned all business, straightening her spine as if she hadn’t heard the compliment. “Is there anything else you need advice on?”

  His smile turned chagrined. “It sounds as though I could use some decorating help. You’ve given me a lot to think about, though. After the grand opening, I’m going to give some thought to rearranging my store, but I don’t want to have a café like you have. I can’t compete with this, and why bother? If they want coffee, they can come over here, but I still want my place to look inviting like Sandcastles does.”

  The look in her eyes softened, and he knew he’d said the right thing. Truly, he didn’t want to compete with her café. Ideas of how they could work together bubbled up, but he didn’t voice them, sensing that might be pushing things too far.

  “Are you hungry? I have plenty of pastry left over.” Claire’s voice was tentative, as if she expected him to say no. As if.

  Rob tried to act nonchalant. “Yeah, I’d like that. I’m starving.”

  It took all of five minutes for Claire to choose some cupcakes from the case. She poured them each a coffee, carried it all on a tray to one of the tables, and gestured for him to sit. It still felt odd to be there after hours, but the cupcakes made it feel less like he was intruding.

  Rob started in on his treat while Claire fiddled with the wrapper of hers. The cake was moist, the frosting creamy. “I can see why they’re a hit around here. These are amazing.”

  Claire beamed as she pulled the wrapper from the cupcake. “Thank you.”

  He took another bite, stealing a moment to really look at her. It was hard not to compare her to the girl he’d met on the beach that one summer. She’d changed, but of course so had he. For some reason, he was still drawn to her. Maybe it was her inner sparkle, like she was enjoying life to the fullest. Or maybe it was the shy way she tucked her hair behind her ear, or the way her nose wrinkled when she smiled. He’d been drawn into her orbit from the second they’d first met.

  “So tell me, what made you decide to open a bakery?” Had they been so similar, even back then?

  She held a hand in front of her mouth for a moment more as she finished chewing. “I always loved baking, and it turns out I’m pretty good at it.”

  He winked. “No false modesty, I see.”

  Color flooded her cheeks, and she looked away, deeper into the store. She pointed at a display case. He followed the gesture to find an elaborate cake shaped like a sandcastle. The sides and turrets were dusted with something white and pink that couldn’t possibly be sand, but from a distance, it had a similar appearance. The construction of the castle itself was no rudimentary boxed affair with crenellations. It had turrets and walls rising in tiers. It looked like something out of a historical film dusted in pink sugar.

  “That’s my specialty. What sets me apart. I used to make cakes like that for my daughter’s birthday parties. She loved them, and so did her friends. I loved making them. Soon, neighbors were asking me to make cakes for them. When I got divorced, I needed to make a living.” Claire gestured to the store. “And what better way than to do something I love?”

  Rob heard the pride in her voice and turned his attention back to her. “Wow, that’s impressive. How old is your daughter?”

  “Twenty-two. She’s backpacking through Europe right now.”

  “She’s adventurous.” Even without Claire saying so, he could see that she was as proud of her daughter as she was the sandcastle cakes. The emotion was there, shining in her eyes.

  Claire laughed. She shook her head, her lips tilting in an expression of chagrin. “She sure doesn’t get it from me. I’ve barely left Lobster Bay my entire life.”

  “From where I’m sitting, Lobster Bay isn’t a bad place to be.”

  A small furrow formed between her eyebrows as she studied him. After a moment, she took another bite of cupcake. “Why did you choose Lobster Bay for your store location? We don’t have much to offer to draw in big chain stores.”

  Rob lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Sentimentality, I guess. It’s not a bad spot for a store. No other bakery specializing in bread is nearby. It’s in the center of a chain of towns, and there is the flood of tourists every year. But mostly…” He turned his gaze to the window. The overhead light mirrored on the glass, throwing his reflection back at him. Beyond it, he could barely make out the shape of his shop. “I vacationed here when I was a teenager. I fell in love with it then. The last time was when I was fifteen.” He turned his attention to her, catching her gaze with his. “I could have sworn that I remembered you from that time.”

  She shrugged. Rob searched her face for a sign that she really did remember him. He didn’t see one, yet he was positive she was the girl he remembered. Apparently, he hadn’t made a lasting impression.

  “Why didn’t you come back?” Claire’s voice was soft, and she leaned slightly forward, as if weighing his answer.

  “My mom got sick after that. Cancer.”

  “I’m so sorry.” She lifted her hand, almost as if she meant to comfort him. He wished she would touch him, breach that g
ap between them, but her hand fell back to her coffee mug, and she took a sip.

  He nodded solemnly, accepting her condolences. He’d gotten good at that. “After she died, I guess I just went through all the motions like I thought I should. I went to college and got a business degree. I started baking bread after I graduated. My mom always baked bread, and I guess it was familiar and comforting. I turned it into a job. I met the love of my life, got married, and then she…”

  “You don’t have to talk about that,” Claire said in a rush. She looked horrified.

  “No, it’s okay. That was a while ago, and it’s not so painful anymore.” He looked up at her, pinning her hazel eyes with his gaze. “Truth is I’m ready to move on, make a new start. That’s why I chose Lobster Bay for my store.”

  Claire’s eyes widened, and she looked away, but before she did, he saw a little spark. Was it a spark of interest? Or sympathy for his wife’s death? Rob couldn’t tell. At the very least, he felt he had removed some of her suspicion about his reason for coming there. Maybe now was a good time to ask about working together again.

  He finished the cupcake in front of him as he practiced the words in his head.

  “Your sale on Saturday will go off without a hitch. You bake fantastic cupcakes. I’m sure your customers will be begging for more.”

  Pink tinged her cheeks, and her smile was bright. “Thank you.”

  He leaned forward. “I think you can do even better if we take advantage of our shops being across the street to capitalize on your sale and my grand opening. It will get us both customers.”

  A hint of wariness entered her gaze. “How?”

  “For one thing, we could set up a small table at each other’s store. A tabletop sign or some flyers with the details, a few bite-sized free samples. I would cut some bread into cubes and put them out with cheese dip. If you made a batch of mini cupcakes or even cut up some of the larger ones into quarters, it could serve the same purpose. We’ll drive customers across the street. Because it isn’t far, I’m sure we’ll get a lot of foot traffic that way.”