Sugar Rush (6 page)

“It’s done?”

“Looks like it. I can
tell by consistency. It’s a smooth color, no speckles.  I used to test it by
dropping some in cold water. If it forms a ball, it’s done. But I’ve made it
often enough that I can usually tell by just looking at it.”

“Do we get to eat it
now?” Jeff sounded like an eager child.

“In a few minutes. It
should cool a bit, or it’ll just melt the ice cream.”

“It does smell good.”

They chatted for a few
more minutes, then grew silent, waiting for the hot fudge to cool. Jeff considered
what she’d said regarding her grandfather. He’d always known his boss could be
a bastard, but he’d never realized to what extent.

Jeff thought about the
boxes he’d put in the master bedroom closet. He’d forgotten about them when
giving Lexi the tour, and was grateful her curiosity about the house didn’t
extend to the master room closet. The boxes belonged to her, but it could prove
awkward if she stumbled upon them.

When picking up the car
at her grandfather’s, he’d again run into the housekeeper, who had confided in
him that she had failed to throw away Lexi’s things, and was afraid her boss
would find them and fire her. She didn’t have the heart to throw out the girl’s
belongings. Jeff had offered to return them to Lexi, and promised to keep the
housekeeper’s secret. He wasn’t sure how or when he would give her the boxes,
because he didn’t want her to know about his connection to her grandfather.

Jeff watched as Lexi
dipped the tip of her right index finger into the warm hot fudge. She started
to bring a taste of chocolate to her mouth when Jeff reached out and snatched her
hand, pulling her chocolate-covered fingertip to his lips.

Lexi’s green eyes
widened as she looked up into Jeff’s intent gaze. His eyes never left hers.
Deliberately, he brought her finger into his mouth and gently sucked off the sweet
taste of chocolate. The tip of his tongue swirled around her finger as he held
the digit in his moist mouth, reluctant to let it go.

“Damn, this is good,”
Jeff said as he spooned another bite of ice cream and fudge into his mouth.

“No kidding. It’s a
good thing this stuff isn’t easier to make, or by the time Havasu’s swimsuit
weather hits, I’d be shopping for a one-piece with one of those little skirts.”
Angie laughed then took another bite.

The three sat outside under
the stars, around the patio table, eating their hot fudge sundaes. Ten minutes
earlier, Angie had returned from next door, just after Jeff finished licking
the chocolate off Lexi’s finger. Neither Lexi nor Jeff commented on the incident,
choosing to outwardly ignore what had just happened.

“When I was in college,
I figured out how to make it in the microwave. Now, that was quick.”

“You need to market
this stuff,” Jeff told her.

“During my sophomore
year of college, I seriously considered the idea. But not the actual fudge
sauce. The thought of cooking and canning hot fudge sauce is way beyond my
field of expertise or interest. I toyed with the idea of selling the mix, where
the buyer could cook single servings in the microwave. Hot fudge on demand.”

“Sounds like a great
idea to me. I’d buy it,” Jeff told her.

“I like that single serving
idea,” Angie added.

“The only problem is
the butter and vanilla. I can use powdered milk, and powdered cocoa instead of
the squares, but the customer would have to add the vanilla and butter. I would
rather they just have to add water.”

“I don’t think it would
be a problem to ask them to add the butter. Most cake mixes call for eggs and
oil. And instead of liquid vanilla extract, use powdered vanilla.” Angie
suggested.

“They make powdered
vanilla?” Lexi asked, sounding surprised.

“Yeah, my mom uses it.
She orders hers from Amazon.”

“Amazon sells
everything,” Jeff laughed. He set his empty bowl on the table after scraping
out every last drop.

“It would be kind of
cool if I could do that. I would design some great labels; package the mix in
mason jars.” Lexi was intrigued with the idea. “I could use the money, and it
shouldn’t take much capital to get something like this going. Of course, I’m
not even sure how the fudge will taste with the powdered vanilla.”

“So, try making it with
the powdered vanilla tomorrow. I’m sure we have some in the pantry with the
spices. Mom always keeps the pantry stocked with basics for the renters, and
there could be some vanilla there, unless the last renter used it all or took
the bottle home.”

“If you’re making hot
fudge sundaes tomorrow, you better invite me.”

“You know, Jeff,
there’s some hot fudge left over from tonight,” Lexi reminded.

“Well, there won’t be
for long!” he laughed.

“About tomorrow,” Angie
interrupted. “I was thinking about hitting the flower, bridal, and party shops
for business leads. Maybe I’ll even stop in and talk to the local chamber of
commerce. I suppose I’ll need to get a business license if I want to do some
serious promoting, but I’ll wait and see. I don’t think you’ll want to go with
me, so that’ll leave you without a car. Do you want me to drop you anywhere?
Maybe down at Rotary Park, or the beach on the Island side?”

“She can come with me,”
Jeff suggested before Lexi could answer.

“Go with you where?” Lexi
asked curiously.

“This is my first time
in Havasu. Thought I’d do a little sightseeing, maybe grab lunch out. I’d love
to have the company; it’d be a lot more fun if you joined me.”

“That would be great,
Jeff! Thanks,” Angie answered for her friend.

“How about it, Lexi?”
Jeff asked when she didn’t reply.

“Okay,” Lexi said
hesitantly. “What time do you want to go?”

“We could leave around
ten. Then stop somewhere later for lunch.”

“Sounds good,” Lexi
agreed. She smiled up at Jeff, who was watching her. When their gazes locked,
she recalled how seductively his mouth toyed with her finger. The memory made her
blush.

* * *

Lexi spent the next
morning on the computer, surfing the Internet for information on starting a
business in Arizona. Initially, she assumed such a project would require a
commercial kitchen, if she wished to stay within the confines of the law. To
her surprise, Arizona’s
Home Baked and
Confectionery Goods Program
 would allow her to prepare the hot fudge mix in her
own kitchen—or in Lexi’s case, in the rental’s kitchen. She assumed she would
need permission from Angie’s parents, but she didn’t think there would be a
problem. After investigating what she needed to do, from a legal perspective,
she was optimistic.

“I assumed there would be all kinds of hoops to
jump through,” Lexi said excitedly when Jeff picked her up later that morning.
Angie had left the house early, and Lexi hadn’t yet had the opportunity to
share the information with her friend. She was excited to share it with
someone, and Jeff was willing to listen.

“You wouldn’t need a commercial kitchen? I was
wondering about that.”

“No, not for the hot fudge. Arizona has a
program for some home-based food businesses. I’d just need to
register with the state, which doesn’t cost anything, according to the person I
spoke to on the phone this morning. I’d need a local business license, which is
only a hundred bucks for the first year. I’d also need to take the food
handler’s class from the county. It’s a two hour class and costs just twenty
bucks.”

“Sounds
like you’ve checked everything out.”

“It’s
a start. I would probably be wise to get some insurance, and I imagine I should
do that if I want Angie’s parents to let me use their kitchen. I don’t think it’ll
be a big deal, because it’s not like I’m actually cooking anything, and
customers won’t be coming to the house.”

Jeff turned into the entrance of Rotary Park; a
golf course was on their right as they drove toward the lake.

“So this is Rotary Park?” Lexi asked. “Angie
mentioned it, and I wondered what it was.”

“I also did some online research this morning.
Did you know they’re having some big hot air balloon festival here this
weekend?”

“Angie said something about it. I guess it’s an
annual thing. She’s hoping to go up in one of the balloons and take some
photographs.”

“That’d be cool. You interested in going up in
one?”

“No,” Lexi cringed. Jeff pulled into a parking
spot overlooking the beach and lake, and turned off the engine. “I have this
thing about heights.”

“I take it that it's not a good thing?” Jeff
teased.

“Not exactly. Last year, I went to the Grand
Canyon with some friends, and it sorta freaked me out. I can’t imagine how I
would feel being up in a hot air balloon, looking down. It gives me the chills
to think about it.”

“If you want to hang out with me while Angie is
up in a balloon, you can keep me company, and we can enjoy the festival from a
safe place on the ground.”

“You might be sick of me by then,” Lexi teased.

Instead of responding with a playful quip, Jeff
turned around to face her. They sat in the parked car. “I seriously doubt
that.” He spoke in a low whisper. His gaze locked on Lexi, who was startled at
his mood shift.
“I rather enjoyed that little taste last
night. I was hoping, after we got to know each other a little better, I might
have another.”

“Finger fetish?” Lexi
wasn’t sure why she said it. Perhaps it was because of his intent expression,
as if he wanted to start nibbling his way down her body, starting with her
lips, since that seemed to be where he was looking. The words just flew out of
her mouth in an awkward attempt to lighten the mood. It must have worked,
because in the next moment Jeff broke into laughter.

“No, but yours was
especially tasty,” he said when he finally stopped laughing.

“It was the fudge.” Lexi
flashed him an impish grin.

“Maybe that’s how you
need to market the stuff.”

“Sounds kinda
unsanitary.” Lexi wrinkled her nose at the thought.

 “You did that
brilliantly. I’m impressed, but somewhat disappointed.” Jeff winked at her and
opened the car door, getting out from the vehicle. Lexi grabbed her purse and
got out from the car, closing the door behind her.

“Did what?” Lexi had no
idea what he was talking about.

“Avoided my lame
attempt at seduction.” Jeff walked to the sidewalk that ran along the shore
from Rotary beach down the Bridgewater Channel and to the London Bridge.  Lexi
stayed in pace with him. It was a sunny morning with a clear, blue sky overhead,
and several boats putted slowly through the channel.

“So, you’re trying to
seduce me? Kind of quick, doncha think?” Lexi teased.

“Perhaps. But I
couldn’t resist that sample last night, and since you didn’t seem to object, I
thought I’d make my intentions clear. After all, this is our second date.”

“This is a date?”

“I plan to take you out
for lunch.” Jeff told her.

“And last night, with
Angie there? That was our first date?”

“Very proper. Our first
date was chaperoned.”

“Interesting. Never
really considered that a date.”

“You let all your
casual dinner companions suck your finger?”

“Damn, that sounds
kinky!”

“No, sucking toes
sounds kinky.”

They both laughed.

“Stay away from my
toes, you pervert.” Lexi playfully shoved Jeff with her hip as they walked
along the boardwalk toward the London Bridge. He managed to keep in step with
her, in spite of the minor stumble from her shove.

“I won’t make any
promises,” Jeff teased, then added in a serious tone, “So you’re really
considering doing this hot fudge thing?”

“I’m thinking about it.
It would be a way to earn a little money, which I could use right now.”

“How would you market
it?”

“Havasu has a Sunday
swap meet. Angie told me about it last night, after we left your place. I was
thinking about renting a booth, giving out samples of the fudge, and if people
liked it, they could buy a jar of the mix. I’m pretty sure it would be exempt
from sales tax because it’s a food item, so I wouldn’t have to mess with that.”

“You could also sell it
mail order, or put it in stores. It’s really good. People love chocolate. Of
course, you’d be wise to start with the swap meet first, see how people
respond. It would be like test marketing the product.”

“Plus, I could make a
little money on the weekends.”

“What about your
graphic arts?”

“I never intended to
look for a job in Havasu; always figured I would try the freelance thing like
Angie. But to do that, I need to replace my software. I had everything I needed
on my Mac, but I don’t have that computer anymore. While I have the money to
buy the software, I’m a little reluctant to take any more out of my savings
account until I have something coming in.”

“But you’re going to
need money to start the hot fudge business.”

“True, but not as much
as buying my software, and it might start generating some cash the first week
I’m at the swap meet. Plus, I don’t want to put all my eggs in one basket.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’d feel more
comfortable having a couple different types of income streams. I don’t like
depending on one thing. I’ll probably go ahead and download the trial version
of the software I need. That’s normally a thirty-day free trial. I’ll use it to
design some labels and try to generate some freelance jobs. Hopefully when the
trial ends, I’ll have some cash coming in and a few freelance customers, then
I’ll feel more comfortable making the purchase.”

Walking along the
channel, with the waterway on their left, they passed the London Bridge Resort
on their right, with its castle-like towers attempting to make the transported
bridge feel less out of place in its desert home. Up ahead, beyond the resort,
five arches of the London Bridge stretched across the calm channel, connecting
the Island to Lake Havasu’s City’s mainland. Before the city’s founder, Robert
McCulloch, purchased the bridge in 1968 from the City of London, there had been
no island, just a peninsula. Initially purchased to attract attention to the
then infant community, the bridge now provided the only roadway off and on the
island.

When Lexi and Jeff
reached the English Village, below the London Bridge, they browsed through some
of the shops, and Jeff pointed out that her fudge mix might do well in such a
venue if the packaging was attractive.

After exploring the
English Village, they walked back to the car and drove to a restaurant for
lunch. On the drive there, Lexi reflected on the morning by the London Bridge.
If this was actually a date, as Jeff insisted, she couldn’t recall any prior date
she’d ever been on where the topic of conversation was focused entirely on her.