Page 33 of Butter You Up
“Damn girl,” Kit says. “Next thing you know, we’ll be callingyouboss.”
“Plus, we should sell strawberries in the farm shop and in the CSA. And Ethel’s jam.” Okay, now I’m rolling. “Offer everything in the CSA, not just eggs and dairy. Are there any other farmers you know you could work with?”
Alex considers this. “It’s not a bad idea. We’re one of the more established membership programs in the area, and it would be convenient for the customers, too.”
“Is there not a farmer’s market nearby?”
“The closest one is Albany. It’s not terribly far, but there are other dairies that go. And in the past, it hasn’t been great sales for us.”
Perry clears his throat. “To be fair, boss, you and I weren’t the best at running a stall.”
Everyone looks at me. Kit points between me and him. “We’dbe great at a farmer’s market.You,” he points between the rest of them, “not so much.”
“Be that as it may,” Alex says with only a hint of the exasperation he must be feeling, “Molly’s leaving at the end of the summer, and you’ll be gone before then. Probably. Hopefully.”
Alex’s eyebrow wiggles, and Kit laughs.
“Okay, so far, the best plan is to sell more strawberries. I’m going to call my brother and inform him of our big plan.” Alex’s voice has this little lilt to it, a slight tease. It’s adorable.
We split up to get back to work.
Down at the farm shop, I pull up pictures of Rose Apothecary from Schitt’s Creek. It would be really fun to spruce this place up, but Rose Apothecary relies on antique hutches and white, clean shelving.
Well, it might be a total crapshoot to look for antique hutches, but a nice white shelf system would be easy.
Maybe.
I lose myself in a Pinterest rabbit hole and come out the other side with a plan.
CHAPTER19
ALEX
At the endof the day, Molly knocks on my door. “Hey, boss,” she says from the doorway.
Trixie whines from her dog bed in the corner. I look at Molly and raise an eyebrow. “You want her to come say hi?”
She grins. “Yes please.”
“Say the word.”
Molly doesn’t just say “okay,” she bends down and taps her thighs and Trixie goes bananas, spinning around, jumping like a pogo stick, and just generally being a derp.
I called my brother after lunch, and he said that he has strawberries out the wazoo—all the strawberries that ripen during the week get frozen or made into jam or—for a lucky few—become Gran’s desserts. He’ll get back to me with a number for how much syrup Gran thinks she can make.
Molly stands and dusts herself off. She’s wearing a jean skirt today and a royal blue tank top that hugs her figure.
And I realize I’m alone with her. Kit’s in the house. Perry and Jesús are gone. In fact, Molly should be gone too—it's past six.
My heart—and parts lower—wonder if she’s here for another kiss.Okay, play it cool, Alex.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, and it comes out gruff instead of hopeful—too gruff. Whoops, I overcorrected.
“I did some digging into a farm shop redesign. I think if we can provide the labor ourselves, I can make some improvements.”
She shows me pictures on her phone of what she has in mind and drawings she made sketching out the space. It would get rid of all the wire racks, but add in a waist-high counter around most of the room, bracketed shelves, and angled wooden display boxes. She’s even drawn out how to use existing reach-in coolers in frames to make them fit the aesthetic.
“How did you do all this?”
