Better Than Chocolate

“I know.”

“Then don’t let me down. You’re our wunderkind and we’re depending on you to turn that branch around and make it an asset for Cascade Mutual. Hell, the people who work up there are depending on you, too.”

“I have every intention of doing that, but—”

Darren cut him off. “Good. I stuck my neck out for you. Don’t make me regret it.”

“Don’t worry, I’m doing my job,” Blake said. “But part of that job involves evaluating the situation and—”

Darren cut him off again with a brusque, “It’s been evaluated and I’m sure I don’t have to remind you of bank policy—to which you’ve already made an exception.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Blake said through gritted teeth.

“I’m glad to hear it. You can give me a full report when we meet on Friday.”

“I will.” In fact, Darren was going to get a much fuller report than he expected. One way or another Blake was now determined to make his boss see reason. He had to. He couldn’t take living the rest of his life as the world’s smallest man.

* * *

Samantha had been looking forward to a caramel latte all morning, but once she had it she took no more than two sips before throwing it out. She started back to the office but changed direction at the last minute, instead walking over to Gingerbread Haus, owned by her business buddy Cassandra Wilkes.

Between her visits to the bakery, and Cass’s visits to Sweet Dreams it was inevitable that the women would become friends. In addition to a love of food and a passion for business, they also seemed to share a common snark bone.

Cass was a single mom, now in her early forties, with three children. She’d come to town a bitter thirty-four-year-old divorcée with barely a penny to her name and went to work for Dot Morrison, who owned the Breakfast Haus restaurant. Dot had lent her the money to start her fantasyland bakery seven years ago and Cass had taken the money and run as fast as she could for success. She’d never looked back.

Samantha opened the door and was greeted with a rush of warm air carrying the scent of cinnamon and nutmeg. From behind the glass counter gingerbread cookies in every imaginable shape beckoned. Cream puff swans swam inside a refrigerator display case, along with German-style kuchen loaded with whipped cream. A huge gingerbread castle perched atop the counter and the shelves behind it displayed other examples of Cass’s creativity.

Today she was in the kitchen, covered in flour and rolling out cookie dough for sugar cookie pizzas, but when she saw Samantha standing at the counter talking to her oldest daughter, twenty-year-old Danielle, she washed her hands, slipped off her apron and decided to take a coffee break.

Cass wasn’t a bad-looking woman in spite of the fact that she tried her best to look bad. She never bothered with makeup and when her dark hair wasn’t in a net it was pulled into a sloppy bun. She was thirty pounds overweight and proud of it, and she rarely dressed up beyond jeans and a sweatshirt or T-shirt. But it was probably more her attitude than her looks that kept her single. Where something about Muriel said, “Call me,” Cass sent out signals that said, “Don’t even think about it.”

Now she regarded Samantha with that penetrating gaze of hers and said, “Okay, who do you want to kill today?”

Samantha couldn’t help smiling at her perceptiveness. “Not my mother and not myself.”

“That’s a step in the right direction,” Cass said as they settled at a corner table with some cake pops.

“But maybe the new bank manager.”

“I didn’t get to the open house but I was in making a deposit this morning and saw our hometown boy.” Cass shook her head and smiled. “I’ve gotta say, even though my ideal man is made of gingerbread, this one brought my hormones back to life for a minute there.”

“I always knew you were a cougar,” Samantha teased.

“So have you been in to talk to him about helping you sort out your Waldo mess?”

Cass and Charley were the only ones who knew Samantha had been struggling with the business but she hadn’t told either of them just how desperate the struggle was. “He won’t be any help,” she said, and left it at that.

Cass shook her head. “The man must have a heart of stone and gonads of dough.”

“That about covers it. We’re going to try and find some other ways to fix the business. My mom and sisters and I were kicking around something last night and I want to get your impression.” Cass was an astute businesswoman. If she was in their corner, that would help sell other members of the Chamber of Commerce on the idea.

She sat back and slung an elbow over the back of her chair. “Okay,” she said, her voice noncommittal.

“We’re thinking of sponsoring a chocolate festival.”

Cass nodded thoughtfully. “Sounds interesting. Tell me more.”

And so Samantha did, and as she talked, Cass’s skeptical body language changed. She leaned forward, arms on the table, listening intently. “You know, this could be good,” she said at last.

“Do you think it could work?”

“Why not? We’re always trying to find new ways to bring visitors to town. When were you hoping to do it? You have to make sure you don’t eclipse anything that’s already in place.”

“Next month.”

Cass blinked and fell back against her chair. “Next month?”

“I realize it’s kind of a rush job.” That was the understatement of the century.

“Kind of?” Cass raised both eyebrows. “You know how long it takes to plan something like this?”

Samantha slumped in her seat. “It’s hopeless, isn’t it? I knew it.” She’d been deluding herself—which was exactly what crazy people did.

“I didn’t say that, but damn.”

“We could start small,” Samantha ventured.

“Why February?”

“I need a ton of money by the end of next month. I’m out of options, Cass.” It was painful to have to say it out loud and Samantha found herself blinking back tears.

“Not necessarily. You have friends in this town.”

Samantha shook her head. “I don’t have enough friends for what I owe. Anyway, I wouldn’t do that to my friends. If the bank could have worked with me…” There was no sense completing that sentence.

“Okay, so when next month?”

“We’d like to have it the weekend before Valentine’s Day.”

Cass nodded slowly. “A chocolate festival the weekend before Valentine’s Day. Perfect timing. You should be able to lure lots of couples up here for that. Good for the B and Bs, restaurants, wineries. Bakeries,” she added with a grin.

“So, if we didn’t go too wild, could we pull it off?”

Cass shrugged. “I say give it a shot. You’ve got nothing to lose.”

Except her business, and she wasn’t letting go of that without a fight.

Cass returned to work and Samantha hurried back to the office, a woman ready to wage war.