by Violet Duke
That in itself made the decision that much more risky.
Because it meant failure simply wasn’t an option.
Unfortunately, with their new shop already starting off to a rocky start with a one-week delay in their grand opening, Quinn was doing her best to stay cool-headed...a feat which left her legs nice and warm to act on a hair trigger, ready and willing to kick him in the ass as a see-I-told-you-so and now-what’re-you-gonna-do-to-fix-it combo that historically generated quick results.
Today was no different.
“White chocolate is just one part of my idea,” he added quickly before she had a meltdown. “Did you know that in Japan, they celebrate Valentine’s Day and something called White Day?”
Her frown told him he had mere seconds to get to his point.
“Basically, Valentine’s Day isn’t a day to exchange gifts between couples. Rather, only the women give the men gifts, namely dark or milk chocolate. The exact reverse holds true on March 14th, a holiday called White Day there since traditionally, white chocolate is what the men reciprocate with...although I’ve read that a gift worth three times more than the Valentine gift is an acceptable alternative.”
A hint of a smile tipped her lips at that explanation.
Ah, he had her now. “You see where I’m going with this?” Adrenaline ran through his veins. “I say we bring the whole idea here to Arizona as a cool new two-part lovers’ holiday custom.”
He brought out the gift bag he’d filled with chocolatiering ingredients and basic confectionary tools last night. “And, since they say it’s customary for the chocolate the women give the men to be homemade, we could even create some hype to make that part of it as well. We could sell kits like these to help women make their homemade Valentine chocolates and even hold classes to teach ambitious customers how to make fancier stuff their guys will trip out over—”
Quinn’s jaw unhinged. “Wait, are you high?! You’re actually suggesting we just hijack tradition and let men totally off the hook in February? You want us to change the rules for Valentine’s Day?”
“Completely for the better. Just picture it: we market it as a new two-prong, equality-of-the-sexes holiday for love, with crystal clear parameters in February and March.” Luke began picking up momentum. “Getting the men on board should be cake because these new rules help de-mystify the holiday a bit. Foolproof it even. All we have to do is make it fun and sexy for them to convince the women in their lives to embrace the change as well.” His mouth twitched. “That wasn’t supposed to come out in the plural sense, but you get my meaning.”
“Charming.” She eyed him stubbornly. “Okay, so the men will probably love it, but how about the women? You’re not winning over the female population with that pitch.”
His expression softened. Turning to look at the only photo he had on his side of the office—the one of his parents laughing at their recent anniversary party—he said simply, “For the women, we should just show the revamped Valentine’s Day for what it is: a romantic day devoted to a woman making a thoughtful gift for the man she loves. I actually think a lot of women would like that. Moreover, I know I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t consider myself hella lucky to be on the receiving end.”
Quinn blinked thoughtfully at that, visibly thrown off-kilter by his sensitivity on the matter. “So then in March, we offer a dazzling line of white chocolates for men to spoil their women with,” she added slowly, her lips quirking up in approval. “We’d lengthen spring sales by a month.”
“Exactly!”
Quinn looked at him as if he’d unexpectedly sprouted genius horns. “We could call it White Chocolate Day to corner the market as ours instead of splitting the focus with flowers and stuffed animals.” Her eyes lit up even more. “Luke, this could actually work.”
“It will work, Quinn. But with Valentine’s just over six weeks away, we’ve got no time to lose. Since you’re the cyber whiz, you should handle all the web stuff. Twitter, blogs, online ads, contests—whatever will create a social media firestorm. I’ll take care of the new chocolates and setting-up the classes, along with on-site promotions and whatever else I can come up with.”
She nodded but remained uncharacteristically quiet. A downright oddity.
“I think the words you’re looking for are wow, you brilliant man,” he inserted helpfully.
She rolled her eyes and picked up the new white chocolate contract as if it was covered in acid. “And encourage more of this type of behavior from you?”
He grinned, knowing her well enough to see she was about to cave. “You know this is our big break, Quinn. It’s just what we need to set ourselves apart. We’ll finally be set. With the surplus sales this is sure to generate, you could pay a chunk of your medical debt off, lower the monthlies and maybe get ahead of it enough to start saving for lil’ Coop’s future as well. And I could—”
He waved a hand in front of her now-distracted face. “Hello, earth to Quinn?”
When Quinn broke her gaze away from the group of people outside who’d caught her attention, the look on her face was excitedly determined. “I’m in.”
He dropped back against the wall, relieved. “So, we’re doing this?”
“Yep, and I already have an ad campaign in mind.” Her eyes shifted outside again.
Luke peered out the wraparound window of their shop that overlooked the brewpub across the small alleyway the next building over. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just a bunch of twenty-something-year-olds filing in for lunch. Ocotillos was always busy this time of day. He certainly didn’t see anything that warranted the engrossing inspiration she’d seemed so taken by.
Quinn popped another white bonbon into her mouth before declaring, “By this time next month, Desert Confections will have completely transformed Valentine’s Day in Arizona.”
With that parting prediction, Quinn headed straight to Ocotillos, leaving him to watch in puzzled amusement as she began scoping out the brewpub through the window, all covert-like. When she slipped out of sight around the building, he shrugged and ambled over to his desk, easing back in his chair with a satisfied grin.
Life was good. His newly expanded shop was about to embark on a venture his gut knew would succeed, his business partner was off being creatively weird—always a good sign—and just nine hours ago, his dormant love life had regained a pulse again. Amazing. Particularly the last bit, he mused, smiling as his mind began wandering back to last night.
Back to Dani…uh… Wait a minute.
His eyes flew open. “You freakin’ idiot.” Somehow, the minor detail of getting Dani’s last name had gotten lost in all the storage room festivities last night.
Great. Now she probably thought he was some sort of player who had first name flings all the time. Shit. He yanked out his cell phone to try and fix this right away…only to roll his eyes in disbelief a second later. You didn’t get her number either, genius. Man, he’d seriously been out of the dating pool for way too long. Jumping up from his seat, he began pacing as he analyzed the situation. Considering Dani had still been there when he and his friends left last night near closing, it was unlikely she’d be working a day shift today—unless her boss was a slave-driving ass, which was doubtful since everyone in town had nothing but glowing things to say about the owner of Ocotillos.
Okay, so casually showing up to ‘run into her’ at lunch wasn’t an option, and heading back tonight was also out since he’d already promised Quinn he’d babysit while she had a long-awaited girls’ night out with her friend from college.
He halted his pacing and frowned. What the hell was he stressing about? So he’d have to wait till this weekend to see Dani again. Big deal—
...Flowers.
His brain instantly rejected the idea of waiting a few days and countered with him getting flowers for her instead. No way could he risk the possibility of her meeting some other man while he waited around like a chump. Grabbing his keys, he headed out to the city’s best florist, an honor th
ey now held in his eyes simply by being the only one open this early on a Sunday.
Nearly a half hour later, however, Luke found himself wanting to strip that title from them as he stalked around the floral shop, disgruntled, looking at the same flowers for the fifth time. Nothing caught his eye. He knew Dani liked flowers, or plants at least. He’d caught her smiling at the plants that lined the walkways of Ocotillos the other week when she’d been watering them. The ones she’d seemed most cheered by were all desert cacti that bloomed vibrant flowers in the spring.
He smiled at the thought and then immediately scowled again, now even more frustrated with his inability to match up reality to inspiration.
As he scanned the shop one final time, a flash of color drew his gaze to a clay pot buried amongst the potted orchids and unruly ferns. A wide grin tugged at his lips when he figured out what it was.
It was perfect.
* * * * *
ZERO MISSED CALLS.
Luke stared at his smartphone screen. The same taunt had mocked him ten minutes ago too. Plight of a recovering serial monogamist finally attempting the saddle again—wanting the relationship without playing the nonsensical dating games to get there. Grouchy now on top of Monday-morning antsy, Luke started tapping his pen on the desk.
Irked, Quinn grabbed his pen and set it down with an exasperated huff. “Okay, what’s her name?”
Huh. Isn’t that the million dollar question, thought Luke sardonically.
“Dani,” he eventually answered with a blunt frown.
Quinn’s mouth rounded into a surprised O. “Wow, you’re really crushing on this one.”
Not really in the mood for any pseudo-sisterly torment, he remained silent, shuffling through the upcoming week’s paperwork his eyes had been glazing over for the past ten minutes.
Reaching over, Quinn plucked the papers from his hands and let out a quiet curse. “What happened? Did she shoot you down? Do you need me to kick the stupid woman’s ass?”
Aw, that was vicious, but sweet.
“No,” he sighed. “Dani’s great. We had an amazing...uh, introduction to each other the other night, but I didn’t get her number. So yesterday, I left my number along with a gift for her over at Ocotillos where she works.” He frowned at his phone. “She hasn’t called.”
“She could just be shy, or doing the ‘wait two days’ thing guys do,” Quinn reassured him.
Or he’d been way off about the gift, and now she thought he was bizarre and random.
He resumed his pen-tapping.
“Go home.” Quinn packed up his things for him. “You pulled an all-nighter creating that new chocolate on Saturday, you worked and babysat for me on Sunday, and then you still did your four a.m. chocolate batches this morning. You must be beat.” She tossed his keys to him. “I’ll take care of the corporate deliveries today.”
Since Quinn had brilliantly suggested that they donate some care baskets to several dozen big corporations—which had instantly resulted in rolling orders—they’d had something keeping them busy during their one-week grand opening delay due to their missing equipment.
Luke rubbed his neck. “I guess I am pretty fried.” Yawning, he gave her a peck on the cheek in thanks and headed out to his car.
It wasn’t until he was halfway home that he realized what he’d forgotten to do this morning as planned. He quickly grabbed his cell phone and hit the first speed dial. “Hey Quinn. I’m so sorry. I completely forgot you wanted to discuss your video ad ideas for our Valentine’s Day campaign this morning. You want me to head back in?”
Quinn’s voice grinned over the phone line. “That’s alright. You’re exhausted, and clearly distracted. We can talk more about the video ads later. I’ll just do some prep work for it today. No worries. One day of you being a red-blooded man isn’t going to kill us.”
Wow. What happened to the freaked out Quinn from the past few weeks?
Hearing her renewed excitement about the shop markedly eased the weight he’d been feeling on his shoulders the past few weeks. He didn’t realize how much he’d been needing Quinn to go back to being the yin to his yang in his chocolate operation, the one whose belief in their success was based as much on loyalty and faith as it was good, sound business.
And for the first time since the move, she was back.
“Damn,” he commented, now slightly more curious than tired, “your idea must be good.”
“You’ll see,” she replied confidently. “I’m going to take the bull by the horns, if you don’t mind. I want to gather some footage and start the ground work for the videos already.”
Now he knew she was back. With Quinn being a step ahead of him, they’d returned to their status quo. “Go for it,” he said with a grin as he pulled into his apartment parking stall and threw his car into park. Since she was a real-deal marketing whiz, whatever she was cooking up would turn into gold, no doubt.
With Quinn very much her old self again, suddenly, Luke felt his body start to unravel. All at once, every tired muscle in his body weighed on his bones like newly dried cement. The burst of relieved adrenaline he’d got a second ago depleted the last of his emotional reserves, causing him to hit the wall hard.
Staying awake was nowhere in the realm of possible anymore. Barely remembering to mumble goodbye before clicking off his bluetooth, Luke stumbled in his door, dropped everything in the hallway, and fell into bed half-zipped, eyes already glued closed.
Falling asleep at this time of day wasn’t all that uncommon for him. His vampiric sleeping schedule began years ago when he’d discovered how much he preferred working on his chocolates before dawn. Unfortunately, this meant a pitch-dark refuge was a necessity if he hoped to get a wink of sleep afterward.
Today though, even with the Arizona sun blazing through his windows, he was out cold. Unconscious to everything.
Even his beeping cell phone.
CHAPTER THREE
AT THE LANDING of the back stairwell that led from her little studio apartment down to Ocotillos, Dani attempted to stretch the aches out of her neck, calves, and everything in between. Even her hair hurt.
“Ugh, I’m getting old.”
Not that she would dare repeat that statement in the brewpub.
She’d made the mistake once last year and just barely missed a lynching by her wait staff, half of whom had been like aunts and sisters to her for over a decade now, since the day she’d turned sixteen and had begun following in her dad’s beer brewing footsteps.
While they’d be the first to admit she had always acted way too old for her age, all the waitresses still decreed that she’d better have at least one sagging body part before she even thought of uttering those words again.
Dani chuckled at the memory. The irony here was that she’d actually been doing them proud the past few days, finally acting like the teen she’d never been back then. Hyperactive libido? Revved enough to power a small city. Self-restraint? Questionable at best. All very redolent of the end-of-the-road adolescent years she’d leapfrogged right over to take over the family business.
And this new found smitten-kitten behavior was all because of him.
Oh, she was well aware that she was flat-out swooning over Luke like he was the best crop of hops she’d ever encountered. Hell, she’d experienced the whirlwind feelings before...just not over anything but beer or food until now.
Jesus, Dani Dobson, swept off her feet—even the statement sounded surreal. But the proof was there, plain as day. Since meeting Luke two nights ago, she’d become distracted beyond saving. It had taken her a full hour longer than usual to close up the brewpub that night, a half hour later than that the next. Heck, last night, she’d actually had to double back because she’d forgotten to do her nightly check out front to make sure her workers had secured the lot up for the night. Along with deadbolting all the doors to the brewery, that was a routine step she couldn’t ever remember having skipped in years.
Yep, Luke was most assuredly to blame.
The man was a menace to all that kept her boring. He made her hum. Literally. She’d actually caught herself humming a sappy tune that second trip up the illogically steep fire escape to her loft apartment. Humming. Up the rickety relic of a stairwell her dad had loved for some incomprehensible reason, seeing as how it was a bitchfest to climb even on a good day.
Who knew? A few kisses with a stranger who’d forgotten to get her number was all she’d needed to feel so…irresponsibly free. Devoid of anxiety. Happy. And for the first time in a long while, not half as lonely.
Too bad it was a onetime thing.
Not that she would’ve allowed herself to keep him either way.
As she stepped into the brewpub, she shook off that depressing thought. Enough mooning. One good thing about being bone tired today was that she could stop thinking about the man for a little while. If only out of sheer exhaustion. Having her weekend day cook switch shifts with her at the last minute yesterday had forced her to work back-to-back for the first time in months—brutal, since she’d both opened and closed the day before. To top it all, because the universe, or at least Arizona’s jury system, didn’t think her life was interesting enough, she was now covering her weekday day cook’s shift as well. It wouldn’t have been so bad if today weren’t a Monday. As it was, with the tight demands of her time each week, she’d had to turn today’s regularly scheduled clerical duties into last night’s blurry-eyed homework. She’d barely gotten in an hour of sleep before her alarm had gone off a few minutes ago.
Smothering a yawn, Dani waved to her mid-morning crew and began faxing out next week’s vendor orders before filing the net calculation logs she’d finished at four this morning. She spent a few minutes online before moving on to the part she’d been looking forward to today—writing this quarter’s bonus checks for her assistant managers and brew managers. It thrilled her to no end that the checks would be bigger than usual, courtesy of the great crowds they’d had through the holidays. Rewarding her management team sizably and giving her staff regular Christmas and anniversary bonuses were among the many business ethics she’d inherited from her dad, a luxury she was able to keep up because of Ocotillos’ growing success over the years.
