by Valley Sams
TABLE OF CONTENTS
GANACHE WITH PANACHE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CONCLUSION
Ganache with Panache
Book Two in The Chocolate Cafe Series
By
Valley Sams
Copyright 2016 Summer Prescott Books
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**This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, places of business, or situations past or present, is completely unintentional.
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GANACHE WITH
PANACHE
Book two in The Chocolate Cafe Series
CHAPTER ONE
The sunlight caused the darkness behind Zachary’s closed eyelids to turn into a soothing, deep burgundy shade. He sighed and enjoyed a languid stretch—arching his lean body against the sand. He deserved this as much as he needed it.
Three major fashion shows, a highly obnoxious press junket, and a royal wedding? There was no question that he had some private time owed to him.
But could he handle it? That was the question.
Beneath the deep hum of the waves hitting the beach, Zachary could make out the sound of his partner’s voice as he talked on his cellphone. Annoyed at the interruption, Zachary opened his eyes to squint in the direction of the intrusive chatter.
His partner, John, was picking his way toward him through the sea grass and driftwood. In one hand he had a tumbler of ice and what was more likely straight rum than mojito. In the other he balanced both his phone and a lit cigarette. He shuddered noticeably as a piece of seaweed attached itself to his sandals.
John was obviously not a fan of nature. By drinking heavily and complaining almost from the second they pulled into the driveway, he had made Zachary painfully aware of the fact that he didn’t want to leave their penthouse in the city for their beachside vacation home.
The constant sour look on his face was only intensified by whoever was on the phone. As he approached, Zach could make out the conversation more clearly.
“He doesn’t normally do private brides, let alone two of them in the same town.” John rolled his eyes “Yes. There’s another bride.”
There was a pause during which John moved the phone from his ear and shook his head. Zach, intrigued, sat up. He adjusted his oversized beach umbrella so that he could see John’s face better. Now that he was closer, he could hear a woman yowling hysterically.
“Mr. Lau likes to keep his clients confidential, Mrs. Hood. I’m just not able to tell you with whom he’s working at this time. In fact, he’s supposed to be on vacation…” John glared down at Zach. “He shouldn’t have even taken the one client, let alone another.”
Close enough now to share the blanket, John maneuvered himself into position beside Zach. He moved the phone so that they could both hear the drama on the other end.
A woman’s voice, harsh and demanding, rang out between the two of them. “MY daughter is not just any bride. She’s as good as any princess and certainly better than anyone in this town. Tell him I’ll pay whatever he asks. Tell him I’ll double it if he drops the other girl while we’re at it.”
Zach and John shared a shocked glance.
“Just a moment.” John said, “I’m going to put you on hold.”
‘Hold’ consisted of John placing the phone containing Mrs. Hood against the impeccably casual linen of his shirt. He smiled wryly and took a deep drag of his cigarette.
“What a witch.” He mouthed, shaking his head again. “Don’t do it.”
Zach shrugged his shoulders. What else was there to do? He wasn’t the partying type, not any more. Since his last stint in rehab, he had managed to stay clean for a record six months. The only way he had accomplished that feat was to throw himself into work and to stay as far away from the decadent nightlife and partiers that had got him into trouble in the first place as possible.
Zach found himself gazing at his partner’s drink; the way the condensation beaded on the glass, the far-off glazed look in John’s eyes. It was going to be harder than he thought to stay committed to sobriety.
“Tell her I’ll do it.” He stared out at the long strip of beach and sparkling water. “Let her know I’ll take her up on that ‘double the cost’ offer as well.”
Annoyed, John blew a plume of smoke in his direction.
“What? We were supposed to be relaxing!” He hissed, the phone still clutched to his chest. “You’ve already taken on one bride and I specifically told you not to. Why not just go back to the city then? At least I could be entertained there.”
Zach’s heart sank a little. He had known that quitting all his bad habits was going to be tough, but he hadn’t thought it would have such a profound effect on all his relationships. He looked back at the man beside him. John looked impatient and annoyed——no doubt glaring at him from behind his expensive sunglasses. If Zach was being honest (something he’d been doing a lot of lately) - he looked like a big baby.
“Idle hands are the devil’s playthings.” Zach said. “Make an appointment with her this afternoon. Around three. If Mrs. Pageant Mom can’t make it, it’s her loss.”
He had to get away from that drink. Remove himself from the situation. Remove himself from John. Zach stood up and dusted the sand off his lean, tanned legs. He looked down to where John sat, stunned, Mrs. Hood shouting into his chest.
As if to prove a point, John raised the tumbler of ice and alcohol to his lips and took a deep, long drink.
Zach felt a painful mix of disappointment and fury well up in his chest. He’d felt it before—that mixture of emotions was the death rattle of relationships. As soon as he felt it, he knew his number was up.
“Tell her I’ll do it,” he said, his voice clipped. “I’m going for a swim now.”
“Here’s to a relaxing holiday.” John said bitterly, placing th
e phone to his ear. With the phone no longer muffled by John’s shirt, Zach could make out a few choice curse words from the elegant Mrs. Hood.
Obviously it wasn’t going to be easy, Zach thought, as he ran barefoot toward the ocean. But was it going to be any harder than getting bullied into a relapse by his drunken, bored partner?
Nothing could be worse than that.
CHAPTER TWO
If Brie weren’t her best friend, Mac would’ve wondered what asylum she’d escaped from. She practically skipped in front of Mac, her tiny elf-like body vibrating with excitement. Over one arm she had slung a basket that she had filled with the best of her chocolate creations. The smell coming from that wicker wonderland was enough to make the few people they passed on the street pause and sniff the air like prairie dogs.
Sabrina turned to face Mac, walking backwards as she went.
“You are going to love Vanessa. I’m serious.”
Mac raised one eyebrow incredulously, her almond eyes narrowing.
“I know, I know.” Brie said. “You don’t like most people, but Vanessa? You’ll love her. She’s sweet, introverted, freethinking, ummm, what else?” Still walking backwards, Brie was managing to avoid the racks of tacky tourist tee shirts and tie-dyed dresses that had taken over the sidewalk. Summer and its tourist trade hadn’t so much begun in Mackenzie Bay as it had invaded it. The main drag and its rickety rows of historic buildings were suddenly plastered with bright ice cream advertisements, wind chimes, kites and the kinds of tee shirts that only travel-weary tourists think are funny. There wasn’t a day that went by without Mac launching into a bitter tirade over outsiders’ habits and annoyances.
Of course there also wasn’t a day that went by where their chocolate shop hadn’t been completely sold out of yummies by closing time.
“I liked her as soon as I met her back in art school. She was literally the only one in the fashion program who wasn’t, you know, tragically affected.”
Sabrina dodged a plastic torso dressed in a neon string bikini, nearly knocking the display to the ground.
“Turn around! You’re going to annoy the tourists, um, owners.” A heavyset man stepped out from the darkness of his shop like a bear emerging from the bush. He steadied the swinging headless torso and glared at the girls.
Mac apologized and spun her friend in the right direction.
“Oops,” Brie said, giggling. “I almost broke his girlfriend.” Mac shushed Sabrina, smiling and shoved her forward.
“Just walk like a normal human being,” Mac ordered.
“You have to admit,” Sabrina said as the two friends turned the corner, away from the main street and all it’s apparent pedestrian challenges. “It’s nice to get away from the shop for a day. I don’t know how you’ve been handling all those customers. I’m starting to think I have the easier job.”
“It’s not that hard when you take into account the fact that we made over $3000 yesterday.” Sabrina stopped in her tracks, her amber eyes widening in surprise.
“That is a lot of money. That is an amazing amount of money!” she said, shocked.
“That…” It was Mac’s turn to spin around and walk backwards dramatically, “Is why I agreed to close the shop and go visit your friend.”
Vanessa’s boutique was located in the area of downtown closest to the water. Like the rest of the properties that faced the stone seawall, it was desperately weather beaten, as the waves hitting the rocks were often so big that salty mists of water exploded up and over the street. The result was the kind of unassuming, raggedy feel to the place that Mac missed so much in her own shop.
The door chimed as they walked into the small, one-room space. The friends were immediately hit with the smell of expensive candles. Scattered throughout the shop, the candles filled the modest room with the scent of rich wood and sweet fig.
Hanging from racks against the walls were clothes that looked like they had been flown directly from the chicest boulevards of Europe. Mac fell into a of reverent trance as she gently flipped through them. They were perfectly, subtly tailored, and managed to be both feminine and strong.
“I don’t think we’re in tacky tee shirt town any more.” Mac breathed. She took a delicate taupe dress from the rack and held it up to herself, turning to see her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror that leaned against the wall. “Look at these lines! The cut is amazing.”
“You should know, Miss Fancypants,” Brie said wryly.
Mac had always been the one with impeccable taste. Although she hated to admit it, both friends knew that Brie couldn’t tell the difference between a midi and a maxi. When they were growing up and Mac had been pouring through September Vogue, Sabrina had been sketching out her next tattoo. “I’ll go see where Vanessa is.”
“I’m here!” There was a thump from the back room. A few seconds later, Vanessa Wells appeared from behind the canvas curtain separating the shop from the rest of the building.
Her boyish beauty struck Mac immediately. From the elegance of the clothing she was expecting some kind of patrician blonde to emerge, like a willowy Venus surrounded by gauze and designer fragrance. Rather, Vanessa looked like the tomboy in every teen movie that only needed to remove her glasses to become the perfect underdog prom queen.
“Oh my gosh! Sabrina!” Vanessa hollered. She dropped the box she was carrying on the cash register desk and practically leaped into Brie’s arms. “What do you think?”
“It looks great! Are you happy?” Sabrina hugged her friend tightly.
“I am so happy.” Vanessa beamed. “It’s a lot of work to set up but I’m almost there.”
“This is my friend Catharine. We call her Mac.” Without a moment’s hesitation, Vanessa strode across the room and offered her hand to Mac.
Up close, Mac could see how adorable she truly was. She had a face like a Victorian doll, all wide eyes and full lips. However, there was something intelligent in her eyes that led Mac to believe she probably listened to Tolstoy on tape while she sewed her fantastic gowns.
She took Mac’s hand, her handshake firm.
“That dress would look amazing on you,” she said. Mac blushed, realizing she still held the delicate smoky confection to her chest.
“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry. I’ll put it back.” Mac turned and slid it in place next to its other gorgeous sisters.
“No! Don’t worry about it. Try it on. Try them all on, they’re just clothes!” Vanessa laughed. Brie had been right, and Mac liked her already.
“Check it out.” Brie slipped the carefully placed napkin off the basket of chocolates as if she were performing a magic trick. Vanessa gasped as the smell threatened to overpower her candles.
“You didn’t,” she said. Vanessa stood, transfixed, starring into the basket at the beautifully stacked chocolates within. “Sabrina was the most gifted chocolatier in the program,” she told Mac. “We were all so shocked when she graduated and took off to…where was it again?”
“Tibet.” Brie said proudly. “I motorbiked all over Tibet. And I’d do it again. Monkeys, monks, yak’s milk…. exactly what I needed after all that studying.”
“May I?” Vanessa took a glossy, perfectly spherical pink ball from its paper cradle. There was a moment of silence as Vanessa bit into it.
Mac never tired of watching people’s faces when they first tasted Brie’s creations. She had a theory that the first reaction to first-rate chocolate was one of those rare moments when you could really get a glimpse of a person’s true self. The pleasure was so deep, the flavor so magnificent, that the taste wiped all pretenses away from the features.
Vanessa’s features softened with joy. When her eyes opened, Mac saw a kindness there that she would expect from someone Brie spoke so highly of.
“Redcurrant jam and white chocolate ganache.” Brie said proudly. “One of my new favorites.”
“You…are so gifted. You’d better leave all those with me.” Vanessa smiled.
“I’ve been trying to
get the mixture right. We’ve got our first catering gig for a wedding in town.” Brie announced proudly as Vanessa reached into the basket for another.
“Wait. Catering job? Since when are we caterers?” Mac asked, annoyed. Yes, she had agreed to take the afternoon off, but that wasn’t because they weren’t busy. They had been absolutely swamped since the summer began and they could barely keep up with demand in their own shop let alone take on someone’s tacky golf club wedding.
“I forgot to tell you, didn’t I?” Sabrina said, cringing. “I could’ve sworn I told you.”
“You probably did. In your head.” Mac mumbled.
“I’m so sorry. Mac? Dearest? Can we do a catering job?” Sabrina put on her best charming face, which, owing to her glaringly obvious beauty, was pretty impressive. She offered Mac one of the shining, champagne-pink chocolates. “Will this change your mind?”
“Maybe,” Mac said, begrudgingly taking the chocolate, “Who is it for?”
“Some woman named Amelia Moore. She just moved here, apparently. Her dad is some very big player in the software industry in the city. They have a lot of money. Does that make a difference?”
“What does she want? Chocolate bride and groom for the cake? Swans?”
“Grumpy gills,” Brie said, “eat your chocolate. I told her straight off already. No chocolate fountains, no fondue crap, no chocolate baskets or statues. Honestly though, I don’t think you have to worry. You’ll even be impressed by her taste—she’s having Zachary Lau design her gown.”
Mac had only been half listening. She’d tuned out as soon as she took a bite of her friend’s magnificent redcurrant creation. Honestly, one bite and Mac would have agreed to almost anything Sabrina had wanted. Vanessa however, seemed to be struggling to get her jaw off the floor.
“Zachary Lau? Really?” She even jumped a little where she stood, her artfully cut bangs flopping into her eyes. “Oh my goodness he’s in town?”
“Who’s Zachary Lau?” Mac had finally come out of her chocolate haze enough to pay attention to the conversation.
