“I don’t know. The only thing I can say is the Wheelers spoiled Adrienne because she was the only girl in a family with four boys, and with her looks she knew she could have any boy she wanted. And once she set her sights on Dwight it was all she wrote. Would you mind if I open a bottle of that fancy wine you sent me?” Charlotte asked, changing the topic of conversation. “After all, we are celebrating your grand opening, and there are a few bottles chilling in the fridge.”
“You’re right about that, Mama.” Once Grant went on an extended ten-city tour, Sasha had shipped her clothes, wine collection and personal possessions to Wickham Falls. She had become quite the wine connoisseur once she learned to pair those which complemented fish, red meat and poultry. “Red or champagne?”
“Champagne.”
Before moving to Tennessee, Sasha rarely had mother-daughter dates, but since returning, she had come to see another side of Charlotte’s personality. As a young wife and mother, Charlotte had sought to shield her children from her husband’s temper tantrums, while taking the brunt of his constant bitching and moaning about how much he hated his job as an orderly at the county hospital. Sasha expertly removed the cork from the bottle and filled two flutes with the pale bubbly wine. She touched her glass to Charlotte’s. “A toast to Sasha’s Sweet Shoppe.”
Charlotte smiled. “Hear, hear!”
Between sips of champagne, bites of succulent meat loaf and garlic-infused mashed potatoes, she felt completely relaxed for the first time since getting out of bed earlier that morning. And once she recalled the events of the day, Sasha knew her grand opening had been a rousing success.
She peered over the flute at the updated kitchen. When she’d returned to Wickham Falls for her father’s funeral, it was as if she saw the kitchen and bathrooms in the house where she’d grown up for the first time. Had they always been that outdated, or was she comparing them to the ones in the ultramodern mansion she’d shared with her then-husband?
Charlotte refused to accept money for the renovations, so Sasha contacted a local contractor and had him send her plans to redo the kitchen, full bath and the half bath off the mudroom. When the contracting crew showed up to begin work, her mother called and read her the riot act. Sasha hung up, waited a week and then called Charlotte back. She could not stop talking about how much she loved her new kitchen.
The money for the renovations hadn’t come from what she’d earned as a pastry chef, but from an account Adele Harvey’s financial manager had established for her following the older woman’s death. No one was more shocked than Sasha when she had been summoned to the reading of Adele’s will and informed she’d been left enough money to take her into old age, if she didn’t squander it.
After her second glass of champagne, Sasha was unable to smother a yawn. “As soon as I help you clean up the kitchen, I’m going upstairs to take a bath and then turn in for the night.”
Charlotte touched the napkin to the corners of her mouth. “You don’t have to help me. I took a nap this afternoon, so I’m good.”
Sasha stared across the table at her mother. She’d styled her hair in a becoming bob that showed her delicate features to their best advantage. Although she’d been widowed for seven years, Charlotte had never spoken about dating or the possibility of marrying again. However, it was different with Sasha. At thirty-two, she hoped she would find someone with whom she could fall in love, marry and have one or two children. Thankfully being married to Grant had not turned her off of marriage as a whole. If or when she did decide to date again, she was certain to be cognizant of the signs she’d chosen to ignore with Grant. She had been so blinded by love that she’d surrendered her will and had permitted her husband to control her very existence.
He had insisted she travel with him whenever he was on tour, attend his recording sessions and of course all the televised award shows. She had smiled pretty for the camera even if they’d had an argument earlier that night. After a while Sasha had had enough and decided she wanted out.
Here in The Falls, she did not have to concern herself about being dressed just so or going out without makeup to conceal her freckles. It had taken her living in a plastic world where she always had to be perfect for the camera for her to appreciate the laid-back comfortability of a small town in the heart of West Virginia’s coal country.
“Are you sure you’re up to it, Mama?”
Charlotte smiled. “Of course I’m sure. I don’t need you working yourself down to the bone where you won’t have enough strength to bake or even run a business. You’ve just begun putting on weight and I don’t want folks saying that my baby girl looks like a scarecrow.”
Sasha rolled her eyes upward. “Thanks, Mama.” Pushing back her chair, she stood up. “I think I’m going to take a shower, because once I get into the tub, I won’t be able to get out.”
“Do you want me to come up and check on you?”
“Nah. I’m good.” Rounding the table, she leaned down and kissed Charlotte’s cheek. “Thank you for dinner. It was delicious.”
“I’m going to put some away for tomorrow’s lunch.”
Turning on her heel, Sasha walked out of the kitchen, through the dining room and up the staircase to the second story. Charlotte had become a lifesaver and her lifeline. She had become her unofficial sous chef; she brought her lunch so she wouldn’t have to leave the shop for a meal; and she’d been there for her to greet town officials and the walk-ins.
Sasha didn’t know what she would’ve done if she hadn’t had her mother. She entered her bedroom, stripped off her clothes and walked naked into the bathroom across the hall. She managed to brush her teeth and shower in under fifteen minutes. Within seconds of her head touching the pillow, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.
Chapter Three
Sasha woke early and was in the shop before five. She’d put up enough dough for marble rye, multigrain and several loaves of pain de campagne—a French country-style bread with a sourdough starter. She had also sent an email to the local church’s outreach director that she had planned to donate any leftover baked goods for their soup-kitchen lunch program. There were several families in towns that had fallen on hard times and had to depend on the generosity of others to keep from going hungry.
Charlotte arrived twenty minutes before seven and checked the contents of the refrigerator showcase. She walked to the entrance of the kitchen. “Is the day’s special ready for me to put in the showcase?”
Sasha’s head popped up. “They’re cooling now.” She knew the red velvet cheesecake brownies would become a customer favorite because of the popularity of red velvet cake and brownies. And she hoped pairing them with cheesecake would take anyone that ate it by complete surprise.
She glanced up at the wall clock and realized she had less than forty minutes to make a dozen blueberry and oatmeal raisin muffins. It took muffins about fifteen to twenty minutes to bake and about five to cool. Sasha wanted to wait until she was certain she would have steady customers before she advertised for an assistant to help her in the kitchen. Creating specialty cakes required only one person, but it was not the same when she wanted to bake breads, pies and tortes. Sasha carefully placed slices of the cheesecake into a box and set it on a shelf in the refrigerator for Kiera, before putting the rest on a large baking sheet covered with paper doilies. She had cut small pieces as samples before she slid the sheet into the showcase.
Charlotte clasped her hands together. “That looks delicious.”
Reaching for a toothpick, Sasha speared a sample and handed it to her mother. “Tell me what you think.”
Shaking her head, while chewing and rolling her eyes upward, Charlotte moaned in satisfaction. “That’s incredible. The raspberry drizzle really offsets the sourness of the cream cheese. This is a real winner. And I’m willing to bet folks will ask for it again and again.”
“That’s what I’m hoping.”
“It’s almost seven, so do you want me to raise the shades?” Charlotte asked.
“Yes. I’m going to bring out the muffins.” While her mother manned the front, Sasha planned to bake small batches of Madeleine cookies, snickerdoodles, ginger, chocolate chip, sugar and cinnamon hazelnut biscotti. If or when they sold out, then she would know whether to increase the quantity or eliminate them from her list.
The morning passed quickly, and the chiming of the bell indicated a steady stream of customers. A few times Sasha had to come from the kitchen to assist Charlotte. She wore disposable clear plastic gloves when selecting the baked goods, and then removed them when handling money or credit cards. The transfer was rote for Charlotte, who’d spent thirty years working in food service. They both wore bouffant caps to prevent hair falling into the food.
Kiera arrived fifteen minutes early. Punctuality was a good sign for Sasha that she could depend on Kiera. “Come with me in the back and I’ll show you where you can put your things.” Kiera followed her to the kitchen, where she hung up her jacket. Sasha pointed to the teenage girl’s three-inch booties. “Do you think you’ll be able to stand comfortably in those, because you’re going to be on your feet the whole time.”
Kiera looked down at her shoes. “I can walk around in these all day.”
Sasha wanted to tell her there were times during her school day when she was seated but decided to hold her tongue. And it was apparent Kiera was very confident with the heels that put her close to the five-ten mark. Sasha was five-nine in bare feet, and whenever she wore a pair of four-inch stilettos she towered over her ex—which was a bone of contention between them when she refused to attend a formal affair in ballet-type flats.
Sasha pointed to one of the three sinks she’d had the contractor install. “You can wash your hands over there. I’m going to give you something to cover your hair because we don’t want our customers complaining of finding hair in their food. After that my mother will show you what to do.”
She discovered Kiera was a quick study. Charlotte had stayed an extra hour to show the teenager how to man the front of the shop, and by the five o’clock hour Sasha had joined her taking and ringing up orders.
Kiera’s dark eyes sparkled with excitement. “I can’t believe you almost sold out everything.”
“It was a good day,” Sasha said in agreement. And that meant she had to come in even earlier the following morning.
“What do you plan to make tomorrow?”
“Cupcakes and mini pies.”
“What about bread?” Kiera asked. “Because there’s none left.”
“I plan to always have fresh bread.” And she knew she had to increase the quantity because she wanted to donate it to the church’s soup kitchen. “It’s time for you to leave. How are you getting home?”
“Daddy’s going to pick me up. He doesn’t see patients on Wednesdays.”
Sasha nodded and remembered Dwight talked about Wednesday being golf day for doctors. “Why don’t you go into the back and get your things? And don’t forget to take the box with your name on it from the fridge.”
The words were barely off her tongue when Dwight walked in. Her heart rate kicked into a higher gear as she stared at him. Today he was casually dressed in a pair of jeans, a gray sweatshirt stamped with the US Army insignia and Dr. Martens. He’d covered his head with a well-worn black baseball cap.
There was something intangible about the single dad that pulled her in and refused to let her go when it hadn’t been that way with other men, and that included Grant. Her ex had worked overtime to get her to go out with him, and at the time it fed her ego to have a man chase her. Dwight wasn’t chasing her, didn’t even appear to be interested in her, so she couldn’t understand her reaction to him.
“How was her first day?” Dwight asked.
Resting her arms on the top of the showcase, Sasha smiled. “She’s a pro.”
“So, you’re going to keep her?” he teased.
“I’ll fight anyone trying to lure her away.”
Throwing back his head, Dwight laughed. “That’s serious.”
“She’s in the back getting her things.” Sasha sobered. “You’re very lucky, Dwight. Your daughter is a natural when it comes to interacting with the public.”
“I must admit she had some experience last summer when she filled in for my receptionist.”
“Do you expect her to work for you this summer?” Sasha was hard-pressed to keep the panic out of her voice.
Dwight shook his head. “No. If anything unforeseen comes up and my mother isn’t busy, then she’ll fill in.”
Sasha rested a hand on her chest over her tunic. “Thank you.”
Dwight gave Sasha a lingering stare, wondering what was different about her other than the hair bonnet. Suddenly it dawned on him that she wasn’t wearing any makeup, unlike the day before, which had artfully concealed a sprinkling of freckles over her nose and cheeks. Her fresh-scrubbed face made her appear natural and wholesome.
Kiera emerged from the back of the shop, smiling and holding a red-and-white-striped box stamped with the shop’s logo. “Daddy, I’m glad Miss Sasha saved some red velvet cheesecake brownies for us, because they were all sold out.”
Dwight inclined his head. “I thank you, Miss Sasha, for you being generous and thoughtful.”
Sasha, blushing, waved a hand. “There’s no need to thank me. I should be the one thanking you for allowing Kiera to work here.”
He noticed Kiera lowering her eyes, and it was apparent Sasha had embarrassed her. Even though he hadn’t spent as much time with his daughter as he’d wanted, Dwight had come to recognize a certain shyness in her. He’d noticed boys her age staring at her while she pretended not to notice them. Maybe he was biased but there was no doubt she would become a beautiful woman like her mother. And it had been Adrienne’s beauty and outgoing personality he hadn’t been able to resist. They’d begun dating in high school and married within days of their respective college graduations.
“Daddy, I need to get home and do homework,” Kiera said softly. Her head popped up. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Miss Sasha. And thank you for the brownies.”
“Tomorrow it is.”
Dwight winked at Sasha and dropped his arm over Kiera’s shoulders. He’d picked her up from school after her last class and drove her downtown. His mother had prepared a lunch for her granddaughter to eat before she began working. Victoria Adams had declared there was no way she was going to permit her grandbaby girl to miss a meal because of a job. She’d promised to pick her up from school on the days Dwight couldn’t.
He knew his mother was overjoyed having her granddaughter close to her every day instead of a month during the summer, and occasionally when she’d accompanied him during his trips to New York. Dwight was more than aware that his mother had never approved of his marrying Adrienne, and although her daughter-in-law had made her a grandmother, even today Victoria’s impression of Kiera’s mother hadn’t changed.
Dwight pressed the remote device to the Jeep and opened the passenger-side door for Kiera. He rounded the vehicle and slipped behind the wheel. “How was your first day?”
Kiera ran a hand over her braided hair. “It was good except my feet hurt from standing up so much.”
He glanced down at her shoes. He could not understand why his daughter insisted on wearing high heels, and when he’d questioned her, she claimed she liked standing out from among the shorter girls who’d treated her as if she was carrying a communicable disease.
That was the first time Dwight realized his daughter was regarded as an outsider in a school system where most of the kids had grown up together. Not only had Kiera acquired the sophistication of someone who’d grown up in a cosmopolitan city like New York City, but she’d also favored the ubiquitous black worn by many New Yorkers. She must have confided this to her
grandmother when Dwight overheard his mother telling Kiera, “Don’t concern yourself about those jealous little snits, because they know you’re better born and better raised.”
He had his mother to thank for telling Kiera what was so obvious, because it would not have come out like that if he’d had to say it. There were a few occasions when he’d waited to pick Kiera up from school and he’d noticed several boys staring at her. This had obviously annoyed some of the girls with them, and when he’d mentioned this to Kiera, she stated the girls did not have to worry about her coming on to their boyfriends because all of them were stupid. Dwight agreed that some teenage boys were stupid, but there would come a time when they became mature young men. However, his daughter was having none of his talk about boys and so he dropped the subject.
“Maybe you should bring a pair of tennis shoes with you that you can change into before you start working.”
Kiera nodded. “I’m definitely going to do that.”
Dwight drove out of the parking lot and came to a complete stop at the railroad crossing as the gates came down. The sound of ringing bells and flashing red lights indicated an oncoming train. “How was school today?”
Kiera shifted on her seat. “Daddy, remember you asked me that when you picked me up?”
He smiled. “My bad. I forgot about that. Your old man must be getting senile.”
“You’re not old and you’re a long way from being senile. Maybe you need to take up a hobby.”
“I have a hobby.”
“What’s that?”
“You, baby girl, and fishing.” He’d become quite an adept at fly-fishing.
Kiera laughed. “I can’t be your hobby.” She sobered. “Have you thought about getting a girlfriend? Mom’s married, so what’s stopping you from marrying again?”
A frown found its way over Dwight’s features. “I don’t have time for a girlfriend. Maybe after you go off to college I’ll consider dating again.”
Second-Chance Sweet Shop Page 4
