by Marina Adair
“Tell me again why you’re putting lemon zest in my apple cobbler recipe?” Fi asked from the carry-through window.
“Because a pinch of citrus will elevate the food profile,” Kennedy said, even though she had been repeating the same explanation since Fi arrived a few hours ago. It hadn’t touched her good mood, though. Kennedy was pretty sure nothing could.
“We don’t need any more elevation,” Fi explained. “I like my pies at sea level.”
“I think the lemon is nice. It adds a fresh surprise to the pie,” Paula said, elbow deep in dough. “A little something special for an extra special day maybe?”
Fi took in Kennedy’s smile and fancy heels—which she kept in her car for emergencies like this—and frowned. “What makes today so special?”
Kennedy suddenly gave all her attention to cutting the chilled butter in the crust she was making. Paula had shown up ready to help bake, Fi to run the front of the shop—and raise cane—just until Kennedy had caught up with the baking. Then Paula would go home and rest, Fi would meet her speed-walking group for Senior Smoothie Day down at the Juice Barn, and they’d both be long gone before Kennedy’s secret meeting with Cosmo.
It wasn’t that Kennedy wasn’t going to share her good news; she just wanted to make sure that there was good news to share—and that Fi didn’t bring stale emotions into Kennedy’s fresh start.
That was the plan anyway. Only Paula was grinning as if she were in on the plan. Fi was frowning like she smelled a rotten apple in the shop. And Kennedy started sweating.
“Shouldn’t you be out front, helping customers?” Kennedy asked Fi.
“Nah, it’s just Lacy from the market, asking for a comfort pie. I told her I don’t serve those here.”
Kennedy looked up. “Yes, we do. There is an entire display case filled with them, right there, remember?”
Fi looked at the Pie of the Day display. “Of course I remember, I’m old, not senile. And I said I don’t serve them here. If you want to sell one of those vegetable pies, then wash up, she’s been waiting for a few minutes now.”
“You finish up here, I’ll help Lacy.” Paula wiped her hands off on her apron and leaned into Kennedy. “And apologize for the temperamental help.”
“Haven’t lost my hearing either,” Fi interrupted.
“And you still have the best legs in town,” a weathered voice said from the front of the shop.
“You,” Fi snapped.
“Cosmo,” Paula said with genuine welcome as she walked out of the kitchen to give the older man a hug. “It’s been ages.”
Cosmo was short, round, and dressed in a light gray suit with matching powder blue suspenders and bow tie. He wore a coordinating fedora, a contagious smile, and had a cigar in his breast pocket. He looked like Al Capone on Easter Sunday. He was also early. Very early. “Last time I came here, I was nearly run down in the parking lot.”
Fi picked up a wooden spoon and rounded the counter, waving it high for everyone to see. “I’ll give you two minutes to hobble out of here, Mo, before I get my keys and finish the job.”
“While I’d love to pick up where we left off, Fiona, I’m here on business.” But as he said it, he pulled a bouquet of flowers out from behind his back and offered them to Fi.
Her face flushed as she inspected the offering, a cluster of bright daisies held together by rustic twine. They were too perfect to have been purchased. Cosmo had hand picked and selected each stem, in a gesture that was so romantic, Kennedy felt her practical side sigh with defeat.
“Well, take your business elsewhere,” Fi said, taking the flowers and bringing them to her nose. “I want you gone.”
“While I would love to be the man who delivers on everything you want, it pains me to say today I cannot be that man.” Cosmo took off his hat and pressed it over his heart. “After forty years, I am finally about to get a second chance at your pies and, beautiful, forty years is a long time to wait.”
The room went quiet at his statement, and the soft steel he put behind it. Mr. Kline wasn’t just in love with the HumDinger; he was in love with its creator.
Kennedy watched as his words settled over Fi, watched her eyes soften, and her body sway slightly toward Cosmo as she smelled the flowers once again.
With a slow shake of the head, she said, “You’ll have to wait, Mo, because even after forty years, you still wouldn’t know what to do with my pies.”
“Thankfully, I am here to see Miss Sinclair. Maybe she’ll see that I know exactly what your pies need.”
Fi didn’t yell, didn’t even wave the spoon. She turned toward Kennedy, and the expression on her face was devastating. “You made a meeting with him? Here in my shop?”
Although there was anger, it was the hints of betrayal that made swallowing hard. Kennedy hadn’t set out to hurt anyone, especially one of the women who had entrusted her with Sweetie Pies. But there would be nothing to argue about if she didn’t do something bold.
“I did.” Kennedy picked up the tray with the pies she’d set aside for this meeting, and placed them at one of the tables. Then she turned to Fi, and softened her voice. “You told me to get creative, I got creative.”
Fi blanched. “First vegetable pies, then you ask me to help bake pies so you can sell them to the enemy?”
“I don’t know what happened in the past,” Kennedy said, not seeing how the older woman could miss the big picture. Unless Sweetie Pies started getting their supplies for free again, it was going to go under. Taking Kennedy’s life savings and, unless they found another buyer, the women’s life’s work with it. “But it is clear that Mr. Kline is interested in being a partner. A partner who could help this shop get to the next level.”
“That’s just it,” Fi said sadly. “This shop doesn’t need to be anything more than it is.”
“I bought this shop because it had roots,” Kennedy said. “A history that you and Paula made together. And I want to be a part of that, add my own pages and recipes, make something that I can look at someday and see myself in, too. But I would never forget your part of the story.”
It was why she’d been open to having the women stay on to help out a few days a week. Why she’d asked over and over again if she was getting their recipe right. Why she never even considered taking down all of the black-and-white photos of the two women that were plastered around the shop. They were family, and this shop was part of their home.
Kennedy just wanted a shot at creating the same kind of legacy.
“The girl isn’t switching out flour for gluten-free crust, Fi,” Paula said, taking her sister-in-law’s hand. “She’s just putting icing on what we baked up, bringing a fresh surprise to every pie. We both agreed she was the perfect buyer, so give her a chance to show us what she’s got.”
“Well, icing has always given me gas. And she hasn’t seen what I’ve got.” Fi grabbed her coat and purse and walked straight past Paula, then Cosmo, and out the door.
The bells jingled as the door shut.
“You think she liked the flowers?” Cosmo asked, his eyes never leaving the door.
Paula took his hands in hers. “She loved them.”
Cosmo gave a slight nod, then faced Kennedy. He was smiling, but there was tension bracketing his mouth. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
“To make Fi upset?” Kennedy shook her head. “But I know what this shop needs to grow, and I know that this partnership is full of exciting possibilities.” Then not to sound too eager. “For both of us. Which is why I have prepared a tasting. I know that you are familiar with the HumDinger, but I wanted to take you on a journey of our four best-sellers, all of them award-winning pies made from locally grown ingredients, and let you see everything Sweetie Pies has to offer.”
Cosmo lowered his head. “I have been paying Ali to sneak me pies every Sunday for the past forty years, Miss Sinclair. And I would love to sit in this shop and savor each and every item you have, but I’m not sure when Fiona will be coming back, s
o I think it is best if I took those pies to-go.”
More than anything, she wanted her chance to sell him on her creations, the traditional and the new items. But she had to agree, Fi had been more than upset, and Kennedy didn’t want to make matters worse. She knew what it felt like to be uncomfortable in one’s own home. “Of course. Let me box these up.”
Kennedy took the pies behind the counter and carefully boxed each one, even adding a comfort pie to the mix. After today he’d need one. She could hear Cosmo and Paula quietly conversing. She couldn’t make out the words, but the heartache and frustration were deafening. As if he really wanted today to have gone differently.
Kennedy wished for that, too. Sure, Cosmo was more than interested in doing a deal, and she was pretty sure that once he tasted the pies, he’d make an offer, but this wasn’t how she’d envisioned things going down. This wasn’t how she wanted to repay Fi and Paula for their trust and kindness. But she knew in the end, it would all work out.
It had to, she told herself, ignoring the little voice inside her heart that kept whispering, “How?” Because saving her shop was imperative, but doing it without changing her relationship with Luke seemed impossible.
Telling herself that this was a good deal, she tied a bright red bow on the last box, and brought them over to Cosmo. The chatter between the two died.
“Enjoy,” Kennedy said. “If I don’t hear from you by Monday, I will give you a call. And maybe next time we can meet in a more neutral place.”
Cosmo looked at Paula and they shared a secret smile. “I have already seen enough.” He took a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Kennedy.
“What’s this?”
“A lovely offer,” Paula said. “Cosmo had his team write it up last night.”
A warm bubble of hopefulness and pride overcame her. Cosmo was so excited about this deal, he’d decided to make an offer before even arriving, and still go forward with it after Fi’s threats. Kennedy knew that, for Cosmo, it was about much more than Fi’s pies.
She unfolded the memo, glanced at the highlights, and gasped. “It says here you want two hundred pies a day.”
“A hundred and fifty HumDingers and fifty of your choosing.”
“Two hundred pies,” she said, mentally doing the math in her head, her stomach spinning at the volume. She’d need to hire on another baker full time!
Two hundred pies in addition to her current customers were going to double her workload. At the price he was willing to pay, it would also double her profits, and offer a solution to her delicate problem. While creating new ones.
At that level of production, she wouldn’t have any apples left over to sell. To anyone. Not that Luke was interested in part of her apples. He made it clear he was an all-or-nothing kind of guy. How would he react when he discovered that he wasn’t getting any?
Especially after last night?
Not a big deal, she reminded herself. He wouldn’t walk away from his distillery for her shop, so why did she feel slightly confused over news that should have her celebrating?
“I’d like the weekend to look over the contract, if that’s okay.” She’d signed in haste once, and no matter how perfect this deal seemed, she’d learned her lesson. She was going to understand this contract inside and out before she signed.
She also wanted to talk to Paula. In the end, this was Kennedy’s business, but she valued the woman’s opinion.
“Take your time.” Cosmo took the pies from Kennedy. “But not too much time. I don’t want to miss the season.”
Kennedy couldn’t afford to miss it either. “I’ll let you know by Monday.”
Cosmo put his hat on his head. “Make sure you think this through, because it takes a strong woman to stand up to Fi, and although I am excited about this deal, I don’t want to cause any more upset.” With a slight bow, Cosmo made his way toward the door.
“I truly didn’t mean to upset Fi,” Kennedy said when the door closed. “Or go behind your back. I just needed to know if I secured or lost the deal, that it was all me. No history, no outside influences. Me and my idea.”
Paula grabbed a comfort pie and set it in the middle of the table, then sat down. “Oh, I know that, dear, and Fi will, too, once she gets over not being in the loop. She always was sensitive about being left out. It comes with being the only girl working in her family’s orchard.”
Kennedy grabbed two forks and sat beside her. “And I would never want her to think that I wasn’t taking her feelings into account. You both helped me out so much, I appreciate what you have done for me and how welcoming you’ve been.”
Paula laughed. “We both know that I am the more welcoming of the two. The best baker as well, so trust me when I say your recipes are inspired.”
“Fi doesn’t agree.” Kennedy looked at the Pie of the Day rack, and opened the contract. “And maybe she’s right. My ‘vegetable pies’ aren’t selling as well, and if I don’t make this deal with Cosmo, there is a very real chance I would have to forfeit.”
She was already nervous about making her monthly payments if Philip flaked. Which was a very real possibility.
“You’ve got to give it time, people will come around. As for the deal with Cosmo, it is a smart one. And you are a smart woman,” Paula said with infinite confidence, and Kennedy found herself blushing. “Once Fi gets over the shock, and being stubborn, she’ll see reason.”
Paula took a bite of pie and gave Kennedy the baker-to-baker seal of approval, which consisted of licking the fork and groaning. Kennedy felt as giddy as a schoolgirl getting a gold star on her weekly test.
“Let’s just hope that she doesn’t take as long to come around as Luke with his veggies,” Paula said, and Kennedy laughed.
“I guess stubbornness runs in the family.”
“This is Destiny Bay,” Paula said, handing Kennedy a fork. “It runs in the water.”
Chapter 12
Luke sat in his office at the back of the barn and went over the bullet points in the proposal he’d drawn up for his meeting with Jason Stark. He’d already gone over his presentation, had cemented the points he wanted to highlight in his memory. The numbers came out on the high side for his taste, but it was an attractive enough offer to get the family to agree to a conversation.
And that’s what this meeting tomorrow was about—getting Jason on board so he could run it past his siblings.
Normally, this was the point in a project when Luke would go over the offered terms again, try to streamline what he could to give both parties what they wanted. Only he was too busy staring out the window, checking to see what his sexy neighbor was doing, to focus on work.
It was all kinds of ridiculous. It wasn’t like he could really see her all that well. The cottage was too far off in the distance to make out much. But he knew she was home, had watched her little car pull down the road about an hour ago and seen her flick on the kitchen light. It was the exact moment his mind gave up on work and started thinking about her mouth.
She had a great mouth. Full and sexy and always throwing off some serious attitude. He liked attitude in a woman. Especially this woman. There was something about her that got to him.
She hadn’t called to say if she saw the note, not that he was expecting her to call, but it would have been nice to know how she was feeling. Between harvesting apples and catching up with her ex, Luke was surprised she’d managed to get out of bed—let alone make it to the bakery and put in a full day.
She was tough—another thing he liked about her.
The sound of crunching leaves outside caught his attention. It was late and the crew was long gone, but when he went to the window, he saw a beam of light flicker in the orchard, moving through the trees, and toward the barn.
Clicking off his office lights, Luke gave up the pretense of working, because the soft glow of the moon outlined a figure with a flashlight and red shoes. It was a female with a sweet body, silky blond hair, and a world-class ass that had kept him
up all night.
Only Kennedy didn’t come inside the barn, didn’t even come near the barn to either thank him or bust his nuts for touching her apples without her permission. With her it could go either way. Instead, the most unpredictable woman he’d ever met pressed her face to the truck window and peered in.
She looked good and long before rounding the back of the pickup, and dropping a paper bag into the truck bed—then she followed. It took her a few tries to get up there, since the cute khaki skirt she wore wouldn’t allow for much range of motion and his truck had mud tires.
But miracle of miracles, she managed to crawl in without falling, then she glanced around looking for—who the hell knew? But once she was satisfied they weren’t around, she bent over and her skirt slid high enough to give him an inspiring view of her legs and—look at that…the hem was about one inch from giving him the best view he’d had in weeks. He was so busy staring that he almost missed the screwdriver in her hand.
Shop Girl was looking to attempt a little grand theft auto. With his truck.
Five minutes in, Luke determined that this was her first tangle with the law. She hadn’t managed to do much more than scratch the paint around the back window and put her hair in a ponytail.
Luke considered going outside to lend a hand—she was working way too hard on breaking in. He had no idea why she was breaking in, but it was clear that, given enough time, she would—even if it meant breaking out the back window.
He fished his phone out of his pocket, dialed her number—and watched her jerk up and bang her head on the top rack of his truck.
“Shoot,” her voice traveled through the window. Rubbing the offending mark, her head tipped down toward the glowing screen of her cell, then immediately popped back up. Darting around like a chicken caught in the sight of a predator.
Her gaze locked on the barn window, and even though he knew that she couldn’t see him in the darkened room, he still felt the need to move. But then she looked at the screen again and he smiled. She’d programmed his number in. Women only programmed in men’s numbers who they hope would call.
