Read Fudgeballs And Other Sweets Online

Authors: Lori Copeland

Fudgeballs And Other Sweets (2 page)

BOOK: Fudgeballs And Other Sweets
8.13Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
Dave had only opened Flying High for the summer, Linstrom had told her, as an experiment. Then he and his annoying dog would be gone.
“If you're not going to keep your dog locked up at home, then at least keep him away from mine.” She cuddled her dog closer. “Princess is sensitive and not accustomed to your dog's ruffian behavior.”
Dave uncrossed his arms. “I'll keep Jake home the day you take that paranoid poodle for therapy.” He turned and walked into Flying High, slamming the door behind him.
“Well—well...” Jenny sputtered, unable to come up with a proper insult. The nerve of that jerk!
Kneeling, she carefully adjusted the small canopy shading Princess's pink cushion. “Please, baby, try to get along just a little longer.” She glanced toward the kite shop. “That ill-tempered bulldog's days are numbered, I can assure you. There's only one tree here. You wouldn't want me to tie you out back in the hot sun, would you?”
Princess drew back as if she understood the threat and didn't like it.
Jenny shot another cross look at the kite store. Dave Kasada was the one who needed therapy, not Princess. The man had kites on the brain, plus he was antisocial. No wonder he didn't have the business she did. He probably scared every little kid who came into his shop. On the surface, he appeared perfectly normal, but he'd hung around Jake so long, he barked at people instead of talking. Women might find him attractive, but to her, he was as big a nuisance as his dog.
She patted Princess, glared at Jake, then ran inside to stir the boiling candy in the large copper kettle on the antique stove she had placed in the front window of her shop. Letting her prospective customers see her at work through the window was a marketing ploy that worked successfully. Indeed, Fudgeballs was a success—or it would be soon. Jenny had her good business sense and the unique flavoring she ordered from the orient made the candy unequaled.
All she needed now was that bank loan and Dave Kasada's space.
The phone rang and she snatched it up, waving her assistant, Rob Levitt, aside. She recognized her account executive's voice on the other end of the line.
“Yes, Mr. Snowden, everything is moving along nicely.” Jenny hoped she sounded convincing enough. Actually, her business plans had stalled. With the tourist season in full swing, she hadn't had time to get a financial report together. Without the financial report there would be no loan, and without the loan, there would be no expansion.
“No, there's no problem. Mr. Linstrom at Rockfield has told me that when Mr. Kasada moves the kite shop space will be mine.”
She swatted Rob's hand away from the cooling batch of fudgeballs. “No, Rockfield has always been easy to deal with. I've leased my side of the building for over five years. The kite shop just opened in May. He won't have trouble finding a new location for the kites—though he'll probably have to go to Mackinac City.”
Rockfield might support her expansion plans, but she wasn't sure Dave Kasada would. He'd undoubtedly be upset if he decided he wanted to stay, but business was business. Fudgeballs
would
expand.
“Of course, I'll have that report to you no later than next week.” She smiled. “Flying High should vacate the premises within sixty days—max.”
Reaching for a box of cocoa, she added, “Have a nice day, Mr. Snowden... Mark. Of course, Mark. Please call me Jenny. Yes, I'll be talking to you soon.”
She hung up, sagging against the counter. “Rob, I
have
to get that financial report together. Addison-Smyth Investments wants it on their desk yesterday.”
Rob smiled. The tall, spindly, twentyish-looking man with long black hair neatly pulled into a ponytail was never rattled. The round wire-rim glasses perched on the end of his nose gave him a boyish look. In the sixties he would have been called a love child. Jenny simply thought of him as her right hand.
“I can stay late tonight if you want.” He carefully arranged spheres of warm, creamy chocolate in thin paper cups.
“Thanks. You're a trooper. I have to dig through the last five years of income tax records and show where my business has increased its profits.”
“Sounds like a lot of work.”
“It is.” She paused, wondering how to broach the subject tactfully. “I could have used Teensy's help this week.”
She was sympathetic to Rob's girlfriend, but Teensy
was
an employee. When Rob Levitt and Teensy Moffit came to her looking for work, they had assured her that being unmarried parents of an eight-month-old baby girl wouldn't be a problem. But that hadn't been the case. Teensy stayed home with baby Dory more often than she came to work.
Rob carried a large tray of fudge to the front case and began restocking. “The baby's been awful cranky lately—so has Teensy, for that matter.”
Jenny's heart shot to her throat. “Rob? Teensy isn't...”
Rob glanced up. “Oh, no, she's not pregnant. I think she's homesick. She misses her family.”
Jenny breathed a sigh of relief. Rob and Teensy were barely adults themselves. One child was enough.
“I'm serious, Jenny. I'll stay late if you want to work on that report this evening.”
Jenny shook her head. “No, I can spare a couple of hours before I go to bed.” She tasted the new batch of fudge.
“What happens when your loan's approved?” Rob closed the case and returned to a long marble table where vanilla-walnut fudge was cooling.
“We bump out the wall and double our square footage.”
Rob frowned. “You think Mr. Kasada will just roll over and play dead? He might not want to leave the island. Space is so limited, and his kite shop seems to be doing a good business.”
Standing on tiptoe, Jenny rummaged around on a shelf, looking for a box of salt. “Mr. Linstrom assured me Mr. Kasada will be no problem. He said that by fall Dave would probably be looking into relocating. Mackinac City is a good business area and just sixteen minutes from the island.”
“But the tourists love his kites—especially those alien things. Awesome, really rad.”
She measured two teaspoons of salt into a kettle. “I don't mean to sound heartless, but I can't be worried about the kite shop.” She glanced out the front window, frowning when she saw Jake slobbering on Princess. “Relocating is Dave Kasada's problem.” She ignored the sudden twinge of guilt. Relocating wouldn't be easy, and she didn't envy him the task. It was the last thing in the world she'd want to do.
“Rob, don't breathe a word to Dave about the expansion until the lease is signed. He might contact Rockfield and put a kink in my plans.”
Rob made a zipping motion across his mouth. “If you don't need me to work late, maybe I'll take Teensy out to eat.” He glanced at Jenny. “If I can find someone to keep Dory—like I said, she's kind of fussy. Teensy gets all nervous if we leave her with someone she doesn't know.”
Jenny's hand paused over the kettle. “Rob, is everything all right between you and Teensy?”
“Oh...yes, I guess so. I promised her we'd visit my folks in New York as soon as I can scrape up the money. They're anxious to see the baby.”
Jenny smiled when she thought of Dory. So beautiful, with her curly black hair, dark eyes and spiky black lashes. When she held the baby in her arms, she felt a strong maternal pull.
“You and Teensy need some time alone.” Jenny couldn't believe what she was about to offer. She needed an eight-month-old to care for in addition to going through old tax records like she needed a gunshot wound to her head. “Drop Dory by my place tonight. I'll keep her for you.”
“But your report—”
“I can work on it while I watch the baby. No problem.” No problem? What was she thinking? “Dory's a doll. We get along great.” She smiled. “Besides, maybe a night out is all Teensy needs to boost her spirits.”
“Thanks.” Another group of customers came in as Rob slid a tray of fudge onto the counter. “We'll bring the baby by early.”
“Great.” Jenny grinned. “She can run the calculator for me.”
2
D
AVE YANKED OPEN the door and yelled at Jake. “Knock it off! Both of you!” The dogs were at it again, barking and circling each other like prizefighters.
He closed the screen, snatched up a broom and started sweeping the front entrance.
“Hey, mister!” a kid called through the screen door.
He glanced up. “Yes?”
“How much is that Martian kite?”
“Eighteen ninety-five.”
The kid's face fell. “Cool.”
Damn right, cool
. The kites were engineering genius. He softened when he saw the child's look of disappointment.
“Tell your folks I'm running a special today—nine ninety-eight.”
The kid's face brightened. “Really!” He tore off down the street in search of his parents.
Dave felt a surge of elation followed by a twinge of conscience. He was damn proud of his kites. The business was exceeding his expectations. So why the guilt trip? Rockfield had owned the building that housed Flying High for twenty years. It was just never put to proper use. When his grandfather. Forte Kasada, handed the business down to him, he'd began to utilize all its assets. Expanding was his chance to bring Flying High into the nineties, to pump new ideas into the company. Grandpa had been a little skeptical—too old-fashioned, he swore—but he was thrilled by how well the kites had done.
When Dave opened the shop last May, he did so with the intent of expanding Flying High to twice its size and adding six to eight more test-marketing designs. It made him feel good to know Grandpa thought he made the right choice giving the business to him.
The Mothership was on the drawing board. Next month, LifeForms.
He glanced out the window, frowning when he saw the poodle lick Jake's ear and pin Jake against the tree. Just like a woman. Break a man down, then whine when he goes after her.
He swept a clump of dirt out the front door and closed it. Good business practice didn't make his job any easier, but the sooner he told McNeill her lease would not be renewed, the better it would be for all concerned.
At least he'd be rid of the annoying poodle.
 
PRINCESS LET OUT a pitiful yip.
Monsieur Bouledogue
refused to notice her! She'd danced and strutted, but the old jaw-jutted slug just laid there like a lump of coal.
She chanced a glance at the kite shop, then raised her yip a decibel.
Must be hard of hearing.
Another decibel.
Nothing.
There's definitely something wrong with him. Every male canine on the island makes advances, but not him.
She leaped sideways, then executed a perfect back flip—her cutest trick.
Jake kept his eyes on an object between his paws.
What is he so preoccupied with? Looks like some old bone. Can't understand how a piece of carcass could be more appealing than moi
. She eyed him resentfully. It just wasn't natural.
She returned to her pillow and glanced over her hindquarters. The problem must have something to do with his legs. They were seriously bowed. And his manly assets were almost dragging the ground. That had to be uncomfortable. Had he injured something on one of those amorous romps so essential to his manly libido? That must be it. No wonder he was such a grouch.
 
JAKE SNORTED, watching her flit back and forth. Didn't the dame ever calm down? She was acting like a flea on steroids, jumping around, doing back flips.
If she doesn't quit wiggling in my face, she's gonna get a lesson.
He smacked his lips. If only her human, Jenny, would take a hike.
He shoved the large bone under his belly, wondering if Princess had noticed it yet. Hell, he didn't even know if it was her bone, but he wasn't taking any chances. Had to be, though. It came from her side of the tree, so she could rightfully claim it.
His eyelids drooped shut, only to fly open at the sound of the bell hanging over the door of Fudgeballs.
Uh-oh. Human alert!
“Here you are, sweetums.” Jenny held up a treat for the poodle. Princess dashed to her, sprang to her hind legs and hopped and twirled.
Jake covered his eyes with his paw.
Holy Moly, the stupid broad's gonna break her back.
He snorted and laid his head down.
As if a tiny snack is gonna excite me
.
When Jenny was out of earshot, Jake got up, walked to the poodle's side of the tree and watched for a moment while she daintily washed her paw with her tongue. “I wouldn't have acted
that
stupid over a T-bone steak.”
Her head snapped up. “T-bone?
Bon chagrin!”
Her eyes widened. “You eat
beef?
”
“What the hell do you think I eat? Oats?” He snorted. “In case you haven't noticed, I'm a red-blooded dog. I eat meat.”
She sighed, exasperated. “No
wonder
you look like you do, all wrinkled and puffy. The cholesterol—my heavens.”
Puffy? No one had ever accused him of looking puffy. He lifted his gaze. “What do dancing poodles eat these days?”
“Chicken. Maybe a little fish.”
Figures.
He yawned, dropped to the ground and laid his head between his paws. “Must be why your hair looks like a Brillo pad.”
Her back bristled and her tail shot straight up, wagging back and forth irritably. In three hops she was on him, tearing into his good ear.
“Ow, ow, ow, ow!” Jake swatted at her, but he didn't want to use his full strength in case he hurt the silly poodle.
Princess calmly strutted to her canopy and sat down as Jenny burst out the door.
Jake waddled to his side of the tree, lying on his left ear to soothe it. Then he rolled onto his back and howled for mercy.
Princess snuggled against Jenny's leg, darting smirking looks at Jake. “Yip, yip, yip!”
Shut up! I didn't even draw blood this time, you big bébé.
Jake trotted toward her, skidding to a stop when he saw Jenny grab the hose and turn on the outside faucet. Before he had a chance to say woof, a blast of cold water hit him in the face.
Yikes!
Howling, he bolted for safety.
What's with this human? Is she nuts? Hey, I'm the injured party here!
 
DAVE KASADA stood in the doorway of the kite shop, staring at the scene in front of him.
“Don't turn that on my dog.”
“Your dog bit Princess!”
“Bit her? Was Jake—”
“Being amorous? Hardly.” Jenny tightened her lips, determined to hide her exasperation.
“Put that hose away.” Dave walked to the tree, leaned down and patted Jake. “The women giving you a bad time, sport?”
Jake snorted.
“Your dog is not a sport.” Jenny pointed at Jake. “He keeps Princess in a constant state of turmoil.”
“Really.” Dave crossed his arms. “Could it be that Princess is neurotic? Jake gets along with other dogs.”
Jenny pitched the hose aside and turned off the faucet. “I don't have time to argue. Just keep your dog away from mine.” She attempted to go into the fudge shop, but he blocked her entrance.
“Jenny—it is Jenny, isn't it?”
“Look, Mr. Kasada—” She pushed a lock of hair out of her eye. Even though he'd been in the shop on occasion, mostly to play with Dory, they had barely spoken. She was always too busy to visit, and he seemed more interested in the baby than her.
He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his pants. “Call me Dave.”
“Dave.” A red flag went up. That would be stupid. Much better to keep the relationship impersonal. When he was loading his belongings into a truck, personal sentiments could get in the way.
She studied his intimidating six-foot frame. He always wore perfectly pressed Dockers, usually with a Polo shirt, and gave the appearance he'd be more comfortable on a golf course than in a kite shop. He looked good from the top of his well-groomed blond head to his expensive Italian shoes. She laughed. What was a man like him doing with a bulldog and working in a kite shop?
“Listen. I'm behind in my work. I can't be constantly running out here to break up the dogs. Just do me a favor and keep Jake out of the way—or better yet, in the store with you.”
He kicked the end of the hose out of his way. “You keep your dog in your store.”
She pretended his good looks didn't affect her. Under different circumstances, she'd die to catch his eye. But liking Dave meant liking his dog, and the bulldog drove her nuts.
“I can't have an animal in the shop. I serve food. Why can't you keep your dog in
your
shop?”
Dave laughed. “Jake in a kite shop? That's a good one. Jake's docile, but he's clumsy as hell.”
No kidding, she thought.
“He could tear up a couple dozen kites without trying.”
“Well, something has to be done. I'm shorthanded, and I can't run out here every five minutes. I have a special order for twelve dozen fudgeballs wrapped in gold foil and tied with white silk ribbons to be delivered to the Grand Hotel by four o'clock this afternoon, in addition to waiting on my walk-in customers.”
His look turned chilly. “Then you don't have time to stand here discussing dogs.”
“You're right. I don't.” They stared at each other.
He glanced through her open door. “Where's your help?”
“Rob's here. Teensy didn't come in today.”
Why was she standing here telling him her life's history when she should be starting another batch of fudge? The reason for her delay wasn't hard to define. It was nice to have a conversation with someone whose every other word wasn't “man” or “awesome.” Rob's and Teensy's conversations went, “That's awesome, man.” Or on occasion, “Man, ain't that awesome?”
For some reason he wasn't rushing off, either. “I've missed seeing their baby around lately. She's cute, isn't she?”
“Dory's a doll—I really have to go. Teensy hasn't been in a lot, and Rob seems preoccupied recently—look, Mr. Kasada—”
“Dave.”
“Dave.” She smiled, aware that his hazel eyes had softened. Cripes. It wouldn't hurt to be civil. “I really have to get back to work.”
They stared at each other until Jenny looked at the dogs. Jake waddled to his side of the tree and hiked his leg, eyeing Princess. She stuck her nose in the air and returned to her cushion, curling herself into a fetal position.
Dave strolled to the sidewalk with her. “I don't mean to sound presumptuous, but your business seems to be going great guns lately.”
Pride assailed her, thrilled that he would notice how well Fudgeballs was doing.
“It is, thank you.” He opened the door and she went inside. He followed. “More than I had anticipated. I'm afraid I should have hired additional help when it was available.”
“Yes...there's not too many part-timers looking for work right now.” Dave cleared his throat. “I'm lucky to have Peter Nelson working for me four hours a day.” He studied the small quarters. “Your space is really limited. If you hired more help, wouldn't they be walking over each other?”
She caught her breath. He could see she desperately needed more space. Did he know what he was implying? No, he couldn't. He was just making small talk without the slightest inkling she intended to get more space—his space. Guilt flooded her, but she shoved it aside. It wasn't exactly her fault the kite shop couldn't stay. It was up to Rockfield Corporation. She was such a long-time tenant, they would agree to her expansion.
He ambled to a table piled with taffy. “Looks to me like you need a couple thousand more feet.”
She avoided his eyes. “Boy, do I.”
When he laughed, she realized it was a wonderful sound. Not loud, not soft, very masculine.
Dang it. Stop it. Next we'll be inviting each other over for coffee.
He stood back, his gaze casually spanning the room. “Ever thought about getting a bigger place?”
She kept her head down, wrapping pieces of fudge. “I've sort of had it in the back of my mind lately.” Sort of? That's all she'd thought about. She couldn't believe he was making it easy for her.
“I've been thinking about expanding the kite shop.” He left the table of taffy to peruse the trays of fudge in the display counter.
“Really?” Her pulse jumped. Then he would be comfortable with his forced relocation. Mr. Linstrom hadn't conveyed Kasada's feelings on the matter, and it really was none of her business how he felt. She had to do what was best for Fudgeballs.
BOOK: Fudgeballs And Other Sweets
8.13Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

CountMeIn by Paige Thomas
The Sleep of the Righteous by Wolfgang Hilbig
Sentinels of Fire by P. T. Deutermann
Follow Me Down by Tanya Byrne
Batteries Not Required by Linda Lael Miller
Zoo Time by Howard Jacobson
Folklore of Yorkshire by Kai Roberts
The Picture of Nobody by Rabindranath Maharaj