by Ciara Knight
“They look fake. Yes, it’s something that looks visually appealing, but I don’t want to eat it. I see food designed to fool the viewer. It’s like a perfect faux apple—shiny, lifeless, too…corporate. It doesn’t have any character like you’d have in a small town. We offer a welcome home kind of flavor here. Not a stuffy, five star, you’re-scared-to-eat-it-because-it’s-too-pretty kind of food.
“People don’t want to see flaws. They want perfection. We want people to see it and fall in love with it so much they want to make it. They want to know about the recipe. About the person who made it. The tips and tricks and secrets.”
Carissa slid into the seat and set her bag and coat in the chair next to her. “I don’t have any secrets. We live in a small town. Sometimes I wish I did, though. It would make life easier.”
Doris plopped Carissa’s usual in front of her, a Rueben on sourdough bread. “Davey told me you eat salads, so I brought you one. Let me know if you want anything else.”
“As I said, no secrets.” Carissa picked up her silverware and set the napkin in her lap. “So is Knox a firm no about focusing the first show on Jacqueline?”
“Actually, he told me to do a joint program test. Have you two in dresses she made holding desserts that you made.”
The heater felt like it had been set to a tropical setting, sending beads of perspiration down the back of her neck. “No. That won’t work.”
“You can’t set aside your hate for Jacqueline long enough to work together?” He asked a difficult question in a simple tone.
Carissa let out a long breath and studied the chip in the edge of the Formica table. “Hate is a strong word, but you’re close. I don’t trust her, and she’s a challenge to see on a day-to-day basis, but I don’t have a choice.”
“I’m sorry for whatever happened between you two. It’s obvious that even now you’re still troubled by it.”
“You deserve to know what you’re getting into and why I won’t work with her.” She smoothed out the napkin in her lap and picked up a fork as if her stomach wasn’t churning so much she wouldn’t dare take a bite. “She ran off with my fiancé the night he proposed to me,” she said, as if reading off town hall meeting minutes.
“She what?” His shoulders stiffened. “That’s awful.”
She shrugged. “It’s in the past. The guy is out of our lives forever, and as Ms. Horton said, she did me a favor. Unfortunately, the side effect of betrayal is no trust. She demolished that, and even now, I don’t trust that she won’t do something to hurt me again. It doesn’t have to be a romantic betrayal. It could be something during this project. You see, I can’t work with her, so you better sell Knox on just having her do the segment. Perhaps after that I’ll figure something out so that I can create something we both love and is appropriate for Knox’s fans.”
He picked up his fork but didn’t dig into his food. “You think the waitress would be offended if I wanted to change to what you’re eating?”
“I thought you were a salad man.”
“Nope.” He shoved the images in his bag and raised his hand. “I don’t like garlic or anchovies, but yours looks delicious.” He lowered his hand. “Unless I’m going to turn her against me if I don’t eat this? I don’t want to have to face any more enemies in this town.”
“It’s fine. She won’t.” Carissa took a bite of her sandwich while Drew exchanged his food.
People watched his every move, and she knew they were assessing his intent and trustworthiness. “You should work in the community more instead of hiding in that apartment. Besides, you’ll be more comfortable at the Maple Grounds than in that drafty old apartment.”
“That sounds like a good idea.” He scratched his cheek and swished his lips. “You know, this is a problem. You don’t want to bake, and you don’t want to work with Jacqueline, but Knox wants you or at the minimum you and Jacqueline.”
Snowball hopped out of the bag and onto his lap and pawed at his plate. He scooped her up and put her back in the bag.
“You’ll have to keep working on him. Jacqueline’s the right choice. Despite how I feel about her, she is the best person for this job. She’s charismatic, beautiful, talented, and works a camera like a fashion model. Her dresses will photograph well, too. If Knox wants a win, that’s what he should start with.”
“I’m surprised that you’d speak of her so highly after what she put you through.”
She wasn’t hungry at the moment, so she set her sandwich back on her plate. “Yes, well, the town needs this or I don’t think I’d be screaming her praises. For now, tell your boss she’s the right choice. It’ll be great.”
“That look on your face says something different, but if this is what you really want, then I’ll try one more time.”
“Thank you.”
The kitten leapt out of the bag and landed on the table, grabbed a piece of corned beef, and took off. Drew lunged from the table and chased her. “Come back here, you little stinker.”
“What is that thing doing in my restaurant!” Doris turned in her orthopedic brown shoes and headed back for the kitchen. “I’ll package this to go. No pets allowed inside.”
Drew ducked under a table and climbed between two people, who jolted and hollered at him. “What about service pets?”
“I doubt that puff of fur is a service pet.”
Drew managed to land hard on his knees near the door and snag the cat with the meat still hanging from her mouth. “It’s my stress-relieving pet.”
“If that thing is meant to relieve stress, you better get your money back.” She shook her head and mumbled, “Darn city people always trying to pull something. Be nice to him. Listen to him. Win him over, Mayor Horton said.” Doris retrieved a box from behind the counter and dumped his food unceremoniously inside and shut it. “Maybe it’s time for a new mayor.”
Carissa hopped up and handed her plate to Doris, who promptly dumped it into another box. “Don’t worry. I’ll get him out of here.” She slipped on her coat, snagged Drew’s bag, her stuff, and the two boxes of food. “Come on, Cat Whisperer. We better go.”
Drew retrieved his jacket from her and followed her out the door, all while struggling to keep the kitten in his arms. “Sorry, I thought she’d behave. How did she manage to get out and across the room so fast?”
“She’s a cat and there was food.” Carissa handed him his box of food. “I have to admit that was the most entertaining and adventurous undate lunch I’ve ever had.”
“Undate?” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Is that a thing?”
“It is now.” She welcomed the cool air with the sunshine. “We won’t have many days like this in the near future. Why don’t we make the most of it and give Rocky kitty here a chance to run around a bit?”
“Rocky? What happened to Snowball?” he asked while fighting the kitten, who had both paws up, slapping at him.
“Snowball is too sweet for that cat. It’s all ears and keeps its paws up, ready to fight all the time. An underdog who had to battle for its win. Rocky.”
“Rocky is a boy’s name. This is a sweet little girl.” Drew held her up, and she smacked his nose, drawing a line of blood with her claws. “Ouch!”
“You were saying?”
“We’ll go with Roxy.” He stuffed her in his coat and eyed the town square. “How about over there?”
She laughed. “Always planning and manipulating for your project, I see.”
“What?” He acted innocent, but she knew his choice was strategic.
“Fine, we’ll sit where the entire town can see us eating lunch together. If you want them to think our undate is a date, go for it. I don’t care. At least they’ll talk about the new man in my life instead of the bum who got away.”
“I still can’t believe she did that.” He crossed the street, bumping into her side as if to nudge her into believing she deserved better in life than a man-stealing ex-friend.
“She did.” For once the admission didn’t sting li
ke a lashing, more like a kitten scratch. “Mary-Beth and Felicia tell me that I should thank Jaqueline for keeping me from a horrible mistake. And that I should be happy because I would’ve never opened my own bakery and discovered who I am and what I wanted to do with my life.”
“Let me guess… Stella disagrees.”
“No, she agrees with them. In her words, I escaped a life sentence with a rusty old wrench, but that doesn’t mean I have to be nice to the person who sold it to me.”
“Colorful.”
“That’s Stella.” Carissa retrieved her scarf from her bag and laid it on the ground. “Here, sit on this. The ground is still a little damp.”
“I don’t want to ruin your scarf.”
“No worries. I’m a wash and wear kind of girl.”
“So I’ve noticed.” Drew sat cross-legged with the cat in his lap, but she didn’t stay. “It’s refreshing.” Roxy climbed up his thigh and darted around in circles chasing nonexistent things in the air and then skittered up a short tree nearby.
“I won’t apologize for being me. Glitter and glamor are not my thing, and that’s why you belong with Jacqueline.”
“I’m not convinced Jacqueline’s the right girl for me.”
“For you?”
“For the project, I mean.” Drew retrieved the cat from the tree before it made it too high for him to reach and settled back down. “I’m still hoping you’ll change your mind.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I think you’re right.”
“About what?”
“About those photos I pulled to show you. They’re rehearsed and overdone with no character, but you have character. We only need to figure out how to dress it up enough for people to want to look deeper to find what lies below the surface. That will be the winning content for this project. And I believe you’re the only one who could make that happen. You, Carissa Donahue, are unique and special, so don’t ever change. Not for me, not for the town, not for Jacqueline, and especially not for a man who was too stupid to know what he had when a seductive girl walked by and distracted him. I agree with Stella… He’s a rusty old wrench who doesn’t deserve another thought.”
Carissa opened her box to avoid acknowledging his words. How did you ignore something you didn’t believe from a person you didn’t trust? Then again, maybe it was time to let go of old wounds and open up to new possibilities.
Chapter Thirteen
The aroma of maple and coffee beans woke Drew enough for him to concentrate on his work, but the people mulling around nearby made him uneasy. He leaned over the table and whispered to Lori, “I thought southern people were all about manners.”
She eyed him over the rim of the ceramic mug. “They’re a friendly bunch. Why?”
“Because their parents never taught them not to stare. I’m from Los Angeles, and I know not to do that.” He lifted his drink and took a sniff. “What did you order me? It smells strong yet has an almond scent.”
Roxy stirred in her box at his feet, but thank goodness she didn’t wake up. That cat had worn him out, climbing the curtains of his room in the inn, meowing all hours, not to mention wanting to sleep on his neck.
She tapped her ring against the side of her cup. “I didn’t get a chance. Mary-Beth, the owner, prides herself in knowing what her patrons want. She said she created that uniquely for your tastes.”
“How would she know my tastes?”
“I’m not sure, but she nailed mine. Light roast, with a hint of peppermint and chocolate without being sweet.” She held a hand to the side of her lips. “Maybe they’re aliens.”
He laughed and took a tentative sip of his own beverage. It wasn’t just good. It was as if he’d been put on a cloud with warm sunshine coating his skin and a hint of mystery. “She nailed it, all right. Dark roast but creamy and smooth with a hint of almond. Not enough to take away from the coffee bean, but perfectly balanced so it doesn’t taste fake.” He blinked and eyed the pictures in front of him. “I see it.”
“See what?” Lori studied the images he palmed and moved around the table.
“The photos do look lifeless. Like drinking regular coffee out of a paper cup with a fancy swirl in the milk.”
“You lost me.” Lori slid a photo of a wedding cake over and studied it. “I don’t see it.”
An excitement seeped into him he hadn’t felt in a long time. That aha moment when things become clear. “See this mug?”
“It’s in front of me, so I should be able to see it. Is this a trick question?” Lori’s eyebrows pulled together.
“Just stay with me. This mug makes drinking this coffee more of an experience than a necessity. Think about it. We go to the same corporate coffee shop on the corner each day. It has a leaf or a heart designed in the top of the drink, but we put a plastic lid over that anyway.”
“Okay.”
“Then we race to a meeting while sipping it, and we never even notice the flavor, except if it’s too strong or too weak for us.”
“I’ll agree with that.” Lori studied the mug in front of her as if reading the coffee beans. “The ceramic cup does make for more of a drinking experience than a necessity.”
“Right, and then the flavor… It’s on an entirely different universe than our normal cup of joe, right?”
“I can’t argue with that.”
He eyed the drink. “But there isn’t a design in the top, so it isn’t pretty, yet it’s perfect. It has character.”
Lori sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Okay, now I know these people are aliens and they took the real Drew Lancaster and left this deep-thinking, softer guy behind.”
“Funny. Seriously, do you get what I mean? Everyone takes photos of the leaf or the heart, and we all smile at the cute design, but it doesn’t make you believe that coffee tastes better than another one.”
“I guess not. You do have a point. Marketing wise, though, it seems to work.”
“Does it?” He held tight to the cup, warming his hands and considering the way he could photograph it to make others see what he saw and tasted and felt when he drank his coffee. “Or are they selling a decorated cup of coffee that promises to wake you up, not that it’s better than any other cup of coffee?”
Lori pressed her lips together, making them almost disappear the way she did when she was thinking. “I kind of see what you mean, but if it isn’t visually appealing, then how will people see that they want it? You taught me that.”
“Right, but what if we made this cup of coffee look like how it tastes?”
“How do we do that?”
“I don’t know.” He tapped his finger against the photo of the cake with flowers on top that looked like every other cake he’d seen. “We show what it tastes like. Show the ceramic cup on a cloud with an almond drawn in the frothed milk and perhaps on yours we have peppermint shavings with a chocolate slice resting on the side like a lemon on sweet tea. And Santa is holding it.”
“But you’ve always said to make the setting simple so that the product is the highlight.”
“Yes, but perhaps we blur Santa and highlight the cup. We come up with a caption for it, like…individual flavor for the unique consumer. Not good, but something like that.”
Lori shook her head. “I like what you’re saying, but I’m not sure it would work, especially with Knox. You’re talking about a massive campaign to educated readers and viewers.”
“Do you know that sign we saw in Georgia? The one with the cows drawing about chickens? That was brilliant. I want to do something like that for this small town. If we’re going to promise them that this special will change their economic outlook, then shouldn’t we do something that is tailored to this town?”
“This all sounds good, but I thought you were supposed to focus on coming up with a killer segment about Jacqueline’s clothing store. It’s the only option after the fiasco with the auto shop segment, and Knox says coffeehouses are overdone, and it’s the wrong time of year to
do the nursery segment. If you keep your promise to Carissa, then this is a no starter anyway. Sure, if we do a joint segment, you could incorporate some of these ideas, but you know Jacqueline will upstage Carissa. Once Knox sees the test shots, he’ll have no choice but to use Jacqueline first while we work out the kinks on Carissa.”
The coffee machine roared, sending steam to the ceiling. The door chime rang, announcing new patrons.
“Maybe you’re right. I don’t want to force Carissa into doing the segment if she doesn’t want to. That being said, she could be brilliant, captivating, the right choice.” He took another sip of his coffee. “It’s a shame, since we both know that first segment will be the one that draws in the most success.”
“Hello, Mr. Lancaster. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” Jacqueline’s unmistakable Marylyn Monroe tone glided into their conversation. “I’m excited that I’ll be working with you. I’m sure we’ll make a great team.” She leaned into him so her hip pushed against his shoulder.
This woman was ruthless, and he didn’t like her for what she’d done to Carissa, but he needed her if this would all work out. “Yes, Ms. Ramor. It’s true. Carissa has stated that you would be perfect for this segment, so I’ve proposed it to Knox and he agreed to do a test shot with both of you. He wants to see if combining two business would give the segment some extra traction.”
“Both of us?” She flipped her hair over her shoulder and pulled out the chair next to him. Perched on the edge, she rested her elbow on the table and toyed with her earlobe. “I really don’t think that’s wise. I mean, let’s face it, Carissa doesn’t have any experience. I was in theater in New York, and I’ve worked the runway, as well as being a designer.”
Lori cleared her throat, as if to be announced as a person who should join the conversation, but Jacqueline couldn’t be bothered with her.
“As much as I appreciate your enthusiasm for the project, Lori, my partner here, could provide more insight.” He scooted his chair a foot away and snagged Roxy, who’d managed to wake up and crawl out of her bed.
