Better Than Chocolate (3 page)

      “I’ve already made other arrangements,” she said taking a bite of the square. “Mmm – you really have to try this. It’s delish…” She broke off a piece and held it out to him.

      He took a bite. He was a dead man. The butter tart was delicious but it could’ve been sawdust. Her eyes were moss green pools with flecks of amber and she smelled of cinnamon and spice, of flowers. He had a job to do he reminded himself.

      “You can’t stay in the loft are when the contractors start.”

      “I talked to Mary. She’s got extra room”

      “Oh.” He should be relieved. It was one less problem to worry about. “Do you need any help moving?”

      She smiled at him. “I’ll be fine. Really.”

      She wasn’t going to admit her belongings could pretty much fit into a couple of suitcases. Except for her paintings and most of those were still crated up.

      “How long do you think the renovations will take?”

      “I’m guessing a month or two. You don’t want to lose the summer season.”

      “That long?” she said surprised.

      “The contractors can give us a better idea of time lines,” Brad said.

      “I don’t want the regulars to be inconvenienced.”

      “They’ll survive,” he said shortly.

      “I’m sure they’ll survive,” she said. “I just don’t like inconveniencing them.”

      Privately Brad wasn’t sure it would be much of a loss. He knew better than to suggest that to her however. He switched subjects. “Do you have anyone representing your work?”
      “I’ve had a couple of shows, a few agents have shown interest,” she said shrugging. “You know the saying. The only rich artist is a dead artist – and that’s not a sacrifice I’m ready to make for my art.”

      He laughed. “The gallery will be good exposure. I’d like to get a friend of mine who’s a computer geek to make a web page for you. You can showcase your art.”

      Her smile was radiant. “I love it. I’ve thought of doing that myself but I’m not familiar with web page design.”

      “Jan is. She studied computers at BCIT and then went into web design. She’s done pages for everything from small restaurants to large corporations.”

      A bolt of jealousy hit Elena by surprise. Where had that come from? Why should she care about a friend of Brads?

      But no matter how or why she couldn’t shake the feeling. She did care about Brad. And she’d have felt much happier if the web page master was named Joe or Bill or – she wasn’t ready for this.

      She didn’t have time for a man in her life. And even if she did he was all wrong for her. ALL WRONG! He was her Dad all over again, more interested in business and making deals than people. Once he’d finished moulding her business to his idea of what success was he’d be out of here and onto the next client.

      “She must have a web page,” she said. “If you give me the name I’ll look at it on Mary’s computer. Along with a couple of artists I went to school with who do web design now. After all it’s always good to look at options, isn’t it?”   

       “Of course,” he said puzzled. He could feel the cold front that had suddenly descended on them, he just didn’t know why. “We’ll leave it at that for now.”

      He walked out and she stood shivering in the middle of the room. No way. Absolutely not. He was all wrong for her. All wrong.

CHAPTER TWO

      She’d moved her things into Mary’s spare room. Her paintings she’d crate up and put in storage with the rest when – and if – she went ahead with the renovations. Right now she was going over suggested changes with the third contractor this morning.

      “You might want to look at renting the space next to you. Give you a lot more gallery space. This is just giving you an estimate for the space you have. Structurally it seems in good shape and the electrical’s up to code. We’ll do the gallery section green like you want with brown accents. Lots of recessed lighting with stands and ledges to display work on.

      The coffee area will be where it is now but we’ll put in new floor. I know environment’s important to you so I’d suggest bamboo. We can put in a couple of solar panels on the roof which will help with heating. All told you’re looking at 40 – 50 grand.”

      “I see.” It was worse than she’d thought. Even the cheapest estimate was $35,000 and now Brad was talking about a manager for the coffee shop/gallery.

      “No. No way. I can’t afford it. I’ll manage it myself,” she said.

      “Bad idea,” he said. “You’ll never get any work done once it gets busy.”

      “So. I’ve got Michelle to help me.”

      “And she’s – where?”

      “She wanted a couple of days off,” she said stiffly.

      “Right. You need a full time manager.”

      “Why? Because I’m not capable.”

      “No. Because there are fifty people out there who can manage the day-to-day. There’s only one you. You’re a unique talent.”

      His eyes were liquid fire she thought feeling her heart catch in her throat.

      “I didn’t start this as a hobby. It’s my business. I want to be involved in every step.”

      “Believe me, there’ll be enough to keep you busy,” he said impatiently. “And you’ll need to be on top of what’s happening. But you don’t have to pour every cup of coffee or ring up every sale.”

      “OK, you might be right. But between my lease and renovations. I’ve spent almost all my start-up money.”

      “But you’ll be bringing money in and you can get a loan.  Having a solid vision of where you’re going and an experienced manager will help with that.”

      “Isn’t a manager going to be expensive?”

      “Thirty, forty thousand a year and a percentage of the profits.”

      “That’s more than I have.”

      “It takes money to make money,” he said.

      “But I don’t have it!”

      “You’ll be generating income.”

      “What if I don’t? What if no one comes?”

      “If I really thought that would happen I wouldn’t be here.”

      “Oh,” she said faintly. That was true. It there wasn’t any money to be made he wouldn’t be here at all. Not if he worked for her dad.

      “I just need time OK. I – I need to go for a walk, think about it.”

      He grinned at her. “I can come with you if you want.”

      “No, no way.” The last thing she needed was Brad explaining how it worked. She just needed to walk, to think. To breathe. Just breathe, she told herself.

      She was here in ‘The Little Town That Could’ because it was a place that supported her, supported her dreams. Brad wasn’t suggesting anything bad. He was showing her how to make her dream a reality.

      But he was pushing her. Her heart was beating faster at the thought of all the money, her hands sweaty. Oh compared to the deals her dad did, deals Brad probably did on a regular basis this was small potatoes. But it wasn’t to her. It was all the money she had. It was her chance at independence, at living her own life. Did Brad understand that? Did he care?

      It was hours later when she went back to her gallery/café. She expected Brad to be gone. He wasn’t. He was sitting at a table working on his laptop. He looked up as she entered and she could see the question in his eyes.

      She stopped before him. “OK, here’s the deal. I’m ready to make the changes. But we’re doing it my way.”

      He grinned at her. “Your way?”

      “I am not turning this into Starbucks.”

      “Oh God forbid. Why would you want to turn it into a multi-million dollar success story?”

      “Success isn’t just about money.”

      “Easy to say when you’ve never had to do without.”

      “I don’t have a lot of money. And I’ve never asked my family for any.”

      “I’m not asking you to,” he said, frustrated. The woman could make a saint see red. “But you didn’t go into business to lose money did you?”

      She stopped, blinking. “Of course not.”

      “So do it your way. But it has to draw in customers.”

      “That’s a given,” she said.

      “If it stays the same it won’t.”

      “I said I was ready to make changes,” she said.

      “Just – God forbid! Not Starbucks.”

      He was mocking her now. She could see a smile lurking just below the surface.

      She gave him a little push. “Laugh if you want. But if I wanted Starbucks, I’d have bought a franchise.”

      “But you are going to serve coffee?”
      “Of course. But not fifty varieties in every conceivable combination. Half the time you can’t even tell it’s coffee anymore when you order from something there.”

      “Is there going to be anything besides coffee?”

      “Tea. Smoothies. With real fruit and real juice. And baked goods.”

      “How about ice-cream?”

      She shook her head. “Too close to Mae Belles. Maybe fresh fruit ices.”

      “I don’t know,” he said. “I think Dan’s an ice-cream man, not an ice-man.”

      “Dan’s a coffee man. With Danish or a piece of pie.”

      “Mm. The pie man. Where are all these goodies coming from? There’s no kitchen.”

      She shrugged. “It’ll work out.”

      “You can’t take that to a bank. You have to have a reputable supplier lined up.”

      “Mary’s doing the cooking for me. I’ll talk to her.”

      “You can’t have a business based on whatever one of your friends decides to cook up that day.”

      “You worry too much.”

      “Somebody has to,” he growled.

      “Oh. And I’ve decided on the name.”

      He looked less than impressed. “Our problems are solved. What is it?”

      “Elena’s. In simple, elegant, gold lettering.”

      He smiled. “I like it.”

      A smile washed over her face leaving him momentarily lightheaded.

      “Well at least we agree on something.”

      “Have you decided which contractor or did you want some advice on that?”
      “I’ll take advice,” she said. “Then I’ll make my own decision.”

      “I’d expect nothing less.”

      Her heart hummed as they went over the three contractor’s estimates and ideas, talked about finding a manager.

      “So the first contractor has the most expensive quote but he’s doing the most.”

      “And he’s got an excellent reputation.”

      “It’s a lot of money.” She looked at him. “Are you sure it’s doable?”

      His heart did a funny little flip in his chest. “Anything’s doable. And we can go over the estimate with contractor again, see if there’s any way to lower it. I’ll look for financing if you want.”

      “But I’ll be bringing in sales from the beginning.”

      “That’s the plan,” he said. “But you need operating capital to keep you going for the first little while.”

      “I guess,” she said. She hated giving up any control, going into any sort of debt. She liked the direction Elena’s was going in though. Elena’s! She gave a twirl. “Where do I find a manager? In the paper? Word of mouth?”

      “Possibly. And we can put something on Monsterjob.com if you want. I was thinking maybe get a grad of Malaspina’s business program.”

      “Wouldn’t it be better to get someone with more experience?”

      “Depends. Everybody starts somewhere. And someone just starting out will give it 110 percent. That might be better than someone with bad habits.”

      “Mm. When you put it that way.”

      She stopped in front of him throwing her arms around him. “I can’t believe it. It’s going to happen. Thank you! Thank you so much!” She looked up into his eyes and felt her heart begin to beat faster, saw the desire in his.

      He pulled her closer and her arms tightened around his neck. Her mouth found his, hungry for his kiss, for his touch. She felt herself trembling under his touch. He pulled away suddenly.

      “I’m sorry. This shouldn’t be happening. I …”

      She felt herself jolted back to reality. “Don’t explain. Believe me it’s not what I want.”

      “That’s not what I meant.” He looked miserable.

      “This is business.” She said.

      “Right.” He looked immeasurably relieved. “Just business. And in my experience mixing the two is a …”

      “Mistake,” she said hastily. “A huge mistake.”

      “Exactly.”

      “So we’ll just forget all about  - this,” she said, “and pretend it never happened.”

      “Forgotten,” he said. “Why don’t we call it a night and I’ll come by tomorrow about ten.”

      “Perfect.”

      She liked artists. People with ideas and feelings. Although so far she hadn’t met anyone she really wanted a long term relationship with. There’d been Sean at university. But he’d always seemed more worried about his feelings and thoughts. She’d grown tired of nuturing his sensitive side, his budding genius. The boys in high school had always been too geeky and, well - boys -  to interest her.

      She should’ve sent Brad packing when he first arrived. Present. What kind of present was he?

      A pretty special one a small voice inside her head insisted. He was helping her achieve her dreams. And it wasn’t his fault her dad was her – dad. She closed her eyes remembering the feeling of his lips on hers, his arms around her.

      No. Now was not the time. Now was the time to achieve her independence. But she couldn’t get him out of her dreams. She woke the next morning tired from a night of tossing and turning. Tired from a night dreaming of Brad.

      It didn’t matter. Even if she was interested in pursuing a relationship he’d made it crystal clear he wasn’t. It didn’t stop her treacherous heart from beating faster when he walked in the next day.

      Not that she would ever show it. She could be as business like and professional as anyone. “So I called the contractor,” she said. “He said he could meet us at noon.”

      “Good. Maybe if we go over the estimates we’ll see somewhere we can cut costs.”

      But the only way to cut costs was to give up the environmental solar panels she wanted or use cheaper, less environmentally friendly flooring, a more toxic paint.

      “No,” she shook her head. “Besides long term the solar panels will save money on heat.”

      “You could give up your living space.”

      “If that isn’t done I’ll have to rent somewhere. It’ll cost more in the long run.”

      “Might have to anyway if it’s against code.”

      “Nobody’s complaining. The wharf rats don’t mind having me as a neighbour and I like being able to get up and walk downstairs to work.”

      She could tell he didn’t want her living there and she didn’t care. It was probably because he thought daddy dearest wouldn’t approve. She, on the other hand, didn’t care what daddy thought.

      “I’ll see what I can do about arranging a line of credit,” he said. “Let’s go over the business idea and I’ll put it into a business plan.”

      As they talked her business began to take a firmer shape in her mind. She could see it as she never had, see herself at the center of it and she liked what she saw. When the contractor came in at noon he gave his opinion.

“You can cut the initial investment by giving up the eco features but you get so much back in rebates and reduced energy costs it pretty much evens out long-term care. It’s more a personal value system.

And cutting corners on construction now means paying long-term in my experience. I can go through and trim a bit, maybe cut costs by not working nights and weekends.”

      She held up her hand. She like the contractor. Grant Holmes exuded an air of quiet competence and his references had all sworn by him. “It’s OK. We’ll find the money. But I do want it open for business as soon as possible.”

      “Kind of figured that,” he said gruffly. “You need the tourist season for a business like this.”

      “How long do you think it will take?”
      “Conservatively I’d say six weeks.” He saw her wince and held up his hands. “I’m hoping we can have everything done for you in a month.”