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Authors: Pat Amsden

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Better Than Chocolate (12 page)

BOOK: Better Than Chocolate
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      “Mary?”

      “Well, I feel like I’ve stumbled into some self help session.”

      Brad just grinned at her. “Aren’t you the one who’s been telling her she can do whatever she wants?”

      “That was different,” Mary said shrugging. “And besides it’s true. I just didn’t expect to hear you saying it. Now let’s get back to work.”

      “You tell me where you want the paintings and Grant’s offered to help hang them.”

      “I can hang them.”

      “So can I but it’ll look like amateur hour,” Brad said dryly. “Grant on the other hand seems good at this type of thing.”

      She looked around. “You’re right. I just don’t want him held up in getting the coffee shop area finished.”

      “Hanging the pictures won’t take that long if we know where they have to go.”

      “OK, then. I was going to start pulling out the birdhouses and the glass art form Race but maybe it would be better to wait until the pictures are up.”

      Brad just shuddered. “Given the way I am around glass I’d say that’s definitely a good idea.”

      “OK,” she said smiling. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t pull them out and start figuring out how I’m going to display them. Not that it was hard. The birdhouses looked like they belonged. More likely fairy houses you would expect to find in the forest and on the beaches, made out of driftwood. She’d put a couple of fairies sitting up from them with the forest pictures in amongst them. Maybe it would work if she found a couple of baking sheets and filled them with sand and pebbles and put a house on it with one of the fairies sitting on the beach.

      Now she just needed to think about how she was going to display Race’s glass work. She had a big iridescent ball that reminded her of a Japanese fishing float. She could put that down with the beach pictures along with some of the smaller ones. The icicles and vases that looked like they were made from pieces of brilliantly coloured rocks fit perfectly with the forest pictures and some of the florals.

      She put them out of the way for now aware Brad was right when he said putting them out early was just inviting an accident. And she couldn’t bear to see anything happen to the work of either Bente or Race. She looked out at the water and realized it was starting to get late. Eight o’clock and she didn’t think any of them had stopped for dinner.

      “How about if we leave you to it and I go make up some sandwiches.”

      “We can probably find some brownies as well,” Mary chimed in.

      “Sounds good to me,” Grant and Brad said in unison along with most of the rest of the crew.

      Counting heads Elena realized they were looking at food for ten people. “We’d better stop at the local grocery store,” she said.

      “Good plan,” Mary said. “I’ll pick up salad ingredients.”

      “Maybe pick up some potato salad or something too. Something tells me a lot the guys aren’t exactly salad enthusiasts.”

      “I can change their mind on that,” Mary said cheerfully. “But for now we’ll give them a choice.”

      An hour later they were back loaded down with enough food to feed twenty. Elena put tablecloths on the picnic tables outside while Mary got them to put down their tools and join them. They ate dinner over-looking the Chemainus harbour in the setting sun, talking about what still needed to be done, and what they’d already done.

      “I’m just so grateful for everything you’ve all done,” Elena said to Grant and the workmen.

      “It’s what we do,” Grant said easily. “I’m glad you like it. You’ll be even happier when you come in tomorrow and the café area’s ready to go.

      “It looks like you’ve got hours more to go.”

      “A couple.” He said shrugging. “But I put it to a vote and we decided we’d stay late tonight and get it done.”

      She felt her eyes tear up in gratitude. “You don’t have to do that.”

      “We want to,” a couple of the men chimed in gruffly.

      “Besides you’ll need a day to train and get ready for your opening,” Grant said.

      “I don’t know how to repay you for this.”

      “You already have,” Grant said easily. “Besides that will give us time to get your living quarters finished before the grand opening. “Now’s the time to tell me if you’ve thought of any changes you’d like made since we went over the plans.”

      “No,” she said shaking her head. Truth be told she hadn’t had a chance to think about her living quarters. As long as there was a place to lay her head at the end of the day she’d be happy.

      She’d have been happy to stay and help when they started back to work but there really wasn’t anything for her to do. She went back to Mary’s with her and started trying to plan out the next day.

      No amount of mental preparations really made up for a chance to see everything finished and get their hands on everything to do a trial run. When she entered Elena’s the next day she felt her breath whoosh out of her.

      The display case had arrived. Gleaming glass enclosed wide, empty shelves begging to be filled with an assortment of goodies.

 

There was a breakfast kebob station at the front and she saw two huge machines that could only be for ices along with assorted coffee machines. The area behind the display counter had granite counters for working on and cutting boards along with a Panini machine and clear plastic tubes filled with coffee.

      Coffee? Where had that come from? She remembered doing a coffee tasting with Brad a few weeks ago but she couldn’t remember ordering it. Obviously he had. Which was probably just as well considering Elena’s was a coffee place. Sleek tables and chairs reminded her of an Italian Bistro she’d visited years ago on vacation. She could picture the tables filled with people talking and laughing.

      She walked over to the gallery looking at the pictures hung the way she’d wanted to. She wanted to put out Bente’s and Race’s art immediately but she was worried about the piece she wanted to display on the floor.

      Ordinarily it would be fine but for the opening she was going to have to be careful not to put anything down that could be easily damaged especially if they got half the people through they’d sent invitations to.

      “This is so much more than I ever asked for,” she said, tears of happiness filling her eyes. She was beginning to feel like a complete blubber puss she’d been brought to tears so often in the last few days. And she was a woman who prided herself on not being overly emotional.

      “I’m glad you like it,” Grant said simply. He left them alone to get on with getting the place ready for opening the next day. She could hear him and a couple of his workmen upstairs in the loft area even as she went over what they needed to do next with Carol and Tracy.

      She was glad both Carol and Tracy were experienced coffee baristas because she was worried she’d never learn the entire lingo. Double, double, single, hold the cream, mocha latte light, double-whip, low-fat. Why couldn’t people just order a simple cup of coffee anymore? And then there were the flavourings; hazelnut, chocolate, raspberry – that was obvious. But blackberry? Who ordered blackberry coffee?

      “Why do you need all that,” Brad asked simply. “I thought you were the one who said, “Let’s just have coffee instead of a huge menu of what used to be a simple drink.”

      He was right she realized.

      Convincing Carol might be another story though. According to her blackberry coffee had been one of their most popular. Who knew? And then there was the iced tea and the lemonade. They were stocking Jones soda and some Italian sodas as well. Carol had promised her the computer software she had to learn would be easy but she was beginning to feel totally stupid because she was never, ever, going to learn how to put in single lattes and double lattes, sandwiches and bakery items. And they hadn’t even looked at ringing in sales for the gallery yet.

      It had actually taken them awhile to even agree on where to put the cashier’s desk. Carol had felt it would be better over behind the coffee shop counter while she had felt it needed to be where gallery people didn’t feel their purchases were being rung up along with coffee and pie. Even if they were. They’d ended up with it by the door in front of where the gallery started.

      “Let’s sit down and have coffee,” she said to Carol.

      “Sure.”

      Over coffee she said, “let’s cut down the number of coffee drinks we have. That was never my plan for Elena’s. I want two or three really good coffees. Just regular. Not espresso, not latte, not mochachino. Maybe after we get going and I’m comfortable with it but not right now. That’s not what I had in mind for Elena’s.”

      “OK,” Carol said. “I was just trying to help.”

      “I know. But in the end this is Elena’s. I want to be consulted about everything we add or take off the menu. Somehow this has gotten away from what I planned. And if I’m having trouble figuring it out so will a lot of the customers.”

      “No one had that problem at Starbucks.”

      “Then let them go to Starbucks.”

      “Fine.”

      “OK.” Some boss she was going to make. She had a huge headache and she could tell Carol wasn’t happy. She took a couple of Tylenol wondering if she’d made a mistake choosing Carol as manager. But she’d done a good job in finding Tracy and the software she’d found was pure genius. Maybe she just hadn’t given Carol a true idea of what Elena’s was intended to be. How could you follow someone’s vision if you didn’t know what it was?

      She looked over Elena’s now. If she was working with someone who’d never had any experience before she’d be in big trouble. Right now she was expecting family and friends to start arriving tonight and she still had a million details to take care of before tomorrow’s grand opening. Like flowers.

      “Have we done anything about flowers?” she asked Carol.

      She shook her head. “It never came up.”

      “I’m going to go up to the flower shop and get some for tomorrow. Did you want to come with me?”

      “No, I’ll stay here and help Tracy get familiar with the software.”

      “Sounds good. I’ll see you later.” She walked the two blocks to Irene’s English Garden Store. Filled with every type of flower or shrub she could want she was sure she could find something that would be perfect for the tables. She’d bought more than her fair share of flowers just for herself. How hard could this be?

      “All set for tomorrow,” Irene asked as she entered the store.

      “I just realized I need flowers,” Elena admitted.

      “What are you looking for?”

      “I’m not sure,” she admitted.

      “Why don’t you look around for a few minutes and then if you’ve got any questions or need any help I’m here.”

      “Thanks.” She moved around the small store, crammed with every conceivable type of flower. She wanted something that people could see over. She wanted bright and cheerful. Something she could afford to replace on a regular basis that would look like it belonged in Elena’s.

      She looked at bunches of African violets, sweet smelling and small and huge bunches of showy tulips. She nixed roses on the spot as too showy and ostentatious for every day. She paused, looking at Gerber daisies, but again they were too big. Suddenly she saw what looked like green, bell-shaped flowers.

      “Those would be green bells from Ireland,” Irene said, noticing her interest.

      “Pricey?”

      “Not too bad. I like them as an accent with something like these daisies.”

She held up some white daisies with green centres. “Add in a little Queen Anne’s lace and it’s a wonderful effect for not that much.”

      “They’d look perfect in something simple like a piece of driftwood but I’ve left it a bit late for that. Maybe some small baskets or…?”

      “I can sell you these but they’re $20.00 a piece. Just between you and me the dollar store has some baskets that would work perfectly well for $2.00 each.”

      “You’re a life saver.”

      “I know what it’s like when you’re starting out. And I figure you’ll be a steady customer. I don’t need to gouge you on something like this.”

      “Can you do them up?”

      “Sure. How many do you need?”

      She counted the tables in her head, mentally. “Eleven.”

      Irene gave her a big smile. “I’ll bring them up myself when they’re done.”

      “Thank you so much!”

      “I have to admit I’m dying to see what you’ve done with the place. Everything I’ve heard sounds wonderful.”

      “That’s good to know.”

      “One of my nephews is on the crew,” Irene said. “He keeps me filled in on the details.”

      “You probably know more about it than me then.”

      Irene laughed. “I doubt that.”

      “I’ll go up and get the baskets now.”

      “If you want. Or I can do it for you.”

      “If it’s not a problem. You’ve got my phone number if you need me.”

BOOK: Better Than Chocolate
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