Page 10 of Love Bites

Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. Mamie is having coffee with Phillip’s man servant/butler/personal assistant/childhood friend.

Yes, she was, and she and I were going to have a long talk about her libido. Wasn’t a woman her age supposed to be over all this silly sexual attraction shit? Maybe her HRT meds needed readjusting to a lower dosage or something? What I knew about menopause would fit into the forms for my dark chocolate rainbow nonpareils. Dark chocolate I could not cover anything with as my enrober was gathering dust.

He filled the office as he entered it. The width of his shoulders, the scent of warm sandalwood, and his mere presence pushed me into a corner. Still, I was the grandson of Capucine Aubert. No one put Haider in a corner, even one gorgeous heir of a candy recipe thief.

“You have nine minutes now. Please say what you want to say. I have divinity to see to and you know how finicky it canbe.” I refused to sit. Sitting meant we were getting comfy and that wasnothappening.

“Oh yes, I do. If the air is too humid it can affect how it sets up,” he replied, moving to rest his nice ass on the edge of my desk. Folding his arms over his chest, he gave me a smile that said ‘Yes, I do know candy’ before cocking his head just slightly. I wanted to reach up to push some curls from my brow but refrained. “So, no small talk about the weather then. Fine, I can get right to the marrow if you wish. Haider, this shop is sinking. And it is not due to your skills as a chocolatier, for I have tasted many of your candies and they are delightful. Your bonbons are particularly delicious. I can see that your schooling and your grandmother’s guiding hand have served you well. What your shop needs is modernization, an influx of cash, and a team of public relations professionals to make it viable in today’s market. Brauning Chocolates can do all of that for you.”

“You mean Brauning Chocolates can do that for Brauning Chocolates,” I fired back, crossing my arms over my egg yolk-soaked apron. “If I sell the shop to you I’ll have nothing to do with it any longer, so any improvements made will be adding to your coffers and not mine.”

“That is what an acquisition is about, Haider. Surely you do not expect us to spend hundreds of thousands of euros to bring this little candy factory up to our specifications then let you reap all the rewards of our investment.”

Oh he was too smug. And too fucking handsome. I kept getting lost in the depths of those brown-green-with-flecks-of-amber eyes.

“Obviously not. But so far I see no incentive for me to sell out to such a huge, and frankly, uncaring of this town and its peoples, conglomerate.”

“I can think of seven hundred and fifty thousand incentives,” he parried. My jaw nearly hit the floor. “Or, if that is too low weare willing to negotiate up. I’m happy to go up to one million dollars and that, as you know, is incredibly generous. This shop does have great historical value as it has been so here so long, which adds to its valuation. The real estate salability is good, not great, but good considering the location. Brand recognition? Meh. Outside of New Hampshire it is weak and will require a hefty public relations push. Now, of course, if we do go to one million that would include some intangible assets such as your customer lists and all of your family recipes.”

That last nugget shook me from the stupor of hearing I could get a million dollars for my tiny old shop. A million dollars. Mamie and I would be set for life if we invested it well. I could stop worrying about bills. I could move to a real home with the cats and not spend my nights pacing the floors trying to figure out how to rob Peter to pay Paul. But the Aubert recipes being handed over to the grand toad? I started chuckling at the mere thought. Phillipp’s sleek eyebrow rose as my titters grew louder.

“Sorry, but can you really see my grandmother selling her recipes to anyone, especially to the man who stole her prized apricot berlingot recipe.”

“Allegedly,” he was quick to point out. “I’ve not discussed this accusation with my grandfather but will do so at my earliest convenience. Your recipes are not a necessity, obviously, as we have thousands of candies of our own to fill the shelves. I would be willing to keep your employees on, and even expand the hiring of ex-offenders as I think it is beneficial for all involved. So if the recipes is a sticking point consider it unstuck.”

“You’d keep them on if I sold?” I was quite shocked to hear that. Many businesses would not hire ex-offenders as a matter of policy. Which was stupid. How were formerly incarcerated people supposed to make a living once they served their time if no one would give them work?

“I would gladly.” He gave me a soft smile that made me woozy. “You see, I am not the troll that Capucine has let you to believe. So, do the numbers that I have mentioned appeal to you?” I flattened my lips. Phillip chuckled. “What a pity it is to see those sweet lips of yours pressed into a paper cut.” He rose from the desk, his hands falling to his sides. I gazed upward. Damn, he was tall. And so fine. Oh my God, so fine.

He said we had sweet lips!

I know, I was right here. Shut up and let me think.

“I’ll take it under advisement,” I finally managed to cough out.

“That is more than I thought I would hear when I came in the front door today. I half expected to have been knocked over the head with the peanut brittle, hog-tied with the red licorice and paraded through Caldwell Crossing as a scoundrel of the worst sort.” The image of walking down Main Street with this man tied up with licorice strips was funny. I may have smiled a little. His gaze warmed. “I’ll give you time to speak to your grandmother, your overprotective friends, and your financial advisors. Would you be willing to meet me at the inn in say three days for lunch?”

“Lunch in three days sounds fine.” I jammed my hand out. He moved closer, slowly, like a gorgeous yet deadly lynx, who had just spied its next meal.

He can eat us any time.

“Excellent.” His smooth hand gripped mine. He gave my fingers a gentle squeeze before placing the gift bag with the bracelet in it back into my possession. “Please, take it. It’s a small token of my appreciation for you speaking to me. I understand how difficult it can be to face such a large decision but know that I will do everything in my power to make this transition as smooth and painless as possible for you and your lively grandmother.”

Damn, he was good. I held onto the bracelet, released his hand, and drew a shaky breath when he sauntered from my office as if he owned the place already.

“Shit,” I mumbled, lifting the bracelet from the gift bag to study it.

The blue beads reminded him of my eyes. Was this man serious or was he tossing out bait he somehow knew I would bite? I rolled the bracelet between my fingers for a moment then placed it on the desk. We did not wear any kind of jewelry in the candy factory. I rubbed my eyes, smelled the vanilla on my fingers, and darted back to check on the divinity.

THE DIVINITY WASbeing finicky.

I tried adding more powdered sugar to the batch. Then it was too firm. So I added some hot water which made it too soft. So more powdered sugar. And so it went back and forth, my head spinning with a thousand things but none of them were candy making. I finally nixed the whole batch, tossing it into the trash with a low rumble of sheer aggravation. There was no way I could sell less than perfection. Mamie would never hear of it.

Speaking of my grandmother… we met in the shop while she was removing her yellow shawl as I blew in like a thunderstorm, sticky bits of divinity hanging from my hair.

“That was some coffee break,” I snapped then waved Crocus away from the register. He went silently, slipping into the candy making area to dismiss the other workers. They were only part-time, sadly, and with business as slow as it had been I was pretty sure some layoffs were on the horizon.

Mamie placed her shawl under the register, her gaze moving to me as I jabbed at the buttons to open the cash drawer.

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