“Is that thing safe?” Jane asked. “I hate to think of her driving Jennifer around in that.”
“Me too. Maybe her car is in the shop,” Maxi said.
“She goes to Frank’s, and he has better loaners than that. I’ll find out what the story is.” Jane sat back down. Frank was her cousin and owned the best auto body shop in town.
“I hope she isn’t having money troubles.” Claire’s expression showed genuine concern. “Maybe I should think about a raise, but Sandcastles needs a lot of repairs, and there’s the competition across the street to be wary of.”
Jane and Maxi exchanged a look. It was clear that Claire was still thinking of Bradford Breads as the competition, even though they’d both tried to dissuade her, but they both knew that pressing the matter would only make things worse.
Maxi held up her glass of wine. “All the more reason to make sure Sandcastles’s cupcake sale is a rousing success.”
Chapter Thirteen
Claire needed as many cupcakes as possible, so despite the fact that she had two helpers coming that evening, she started baking as soon as she could the day after their strategy meeting.
She began with the cupcakes she knew would sell the best, the flavors that flew off the shelves. Despite Sandee’s disdain for them, chocolate and vanilla were crowd pleasers. Everyone loved them, and she consistently sold the most of them. She started with one batch of each. While they were baking in her industrial oven, she set a timer on her phone and went out front to help Hailey.
Mentally cataloguing all the things she had to do and in what order, Claire whisked away several errant dishes from customers who hadn’t returned them to the front, wiping down the tables as she went. As she bent over one of the tables in front of the window, she smiled at Harry and Bert, sitting with their coffees in hand. They were drinking leisurely despite the clouds rolling in from the west.
“Good morning, gentlemen. Are you enjoying your coffees?”
“Always do,” Bert said, tipping his up to take a sip from it.
“We can’t wait for that cupcake sale,” Harry added. “We saw the advertisement in the paper. Very classy.”
“Thank you.” She couldn’t really take credit for that. Due to the last-minute rush for the ad, she hadn’t been able to design anything and had left that to Mona. But Bert and Harry didn’t need to know that.
“And the sign you have outside is quite something. I don’t suppose you have samples of some of the flavors you’ll be selling on Saturday?” Bert added.
Claire laughed. “Not today, I’m afraid. I’ve got plain old chocolate and vanilla in the oven right now. But if you come back tomorrow, I’ll try to keep a small sample aside for two of my best customers.”
The old men beamed. “We’ll hold you to that,” Harry said. Bert nodded in agreement.
As Claire straightened, her gaze was drawn to the stream of tourists walking past the banner that Stacy had made for the sale. She was pleased to see potential customers craning their necks to look. A few even stopped and headed inside despite the sign advertising a sale coming on Saturday. Claire’s chest swelled at the sight of her bustling business. Getting Stacy to fast-track the sign had been the right decision.
The warm bubble in her chest burst as her gaze lifted from her cheery pink-and-yellow sign to the blatant redGrand Openingsign on the shop across the street. Claire chewed on the inside of her cheek and turned away. She had too much to do to start worrying about that.
As she headed into the kitchen area, balancing the dishes on her arms, Sally appeared from the hall that led to the bathrooms, where she had been fixing the leak. Claire slipped the dishes onto the counter next to the coffee and faced her.
“Finished?”
Sally nodded. “I think it should hold for a while.”
Claire’s shoulders relaxed with relief, but then she became wary of the smirk on Sally’s face as the handywoman’s gaze travelled past her to the front of the store.
“Looks like you have company. I’m going to grab a coffee.”
“Huh?” Claire turned as the bell above the door chimed. Her gaze landed squarely on the man filling her doorway.
The guy from Bradford Breads. Inherstore. He paused in the threshold, letting the door fall back into its frame as he scanned the interior of the bakery. Was he examining her products? Trying to figure out how to best compete?
Wiping her hands on her apron, she left the safety of the kitchen area and headed out front. When he saw her, he smiled, the expression deepening the attractive crow’s-feet at the corners of his sapphire eyes. She didn’t return the smile.
Undaunted, he stepped forward to meet her halfway with a hand extended. “You must be the owner of Sandcastles.”
Reluctantly, Claire slipped her hand into his. His palm was large and warm, with interesting callouses along the knuckles. She gave him a firm handshake, refusing to show even the slightest bit of weakness. Chin held high, she answered, “I am. Claire Turner.”
“I’m Rob Bradford. I own the bakery across the street. Do you have a minute to talk?”
