Travis brought a salad and then a plate piled high with pizza and breadsticks and a small bowl of marinara to the table. “I love pizza, butI love your doughnuts even more. We’ve done some research this week, and the consensus here at Butler Enterprises is that the ones you make are the best in this part of Texas.”
“How did you decide that?” Grace asked, suspecting she knew the answer.
“Remember when I came into your place and bought doughnuts of every kind a few days ago? We had a taste test. We cut each one into four pieces and then asked my employees from the think tank to taste test them against several bakeries here in town. Hands down, Devine Doughnuts won,” he answered.
“Thank you,” she said, then frowned. “‘Think tank’?”
“The first floor is devoted to my younger business-development people,” he said.
“You’ve got lettuce in your teeth,” she said and immediately wished she could shove the words back into her mouth.
He removed the bit of lettuce with a napkin, then smiled again. “Is it gone?”
“Yes, and I apologize.” Grace fought back a bit of heat in her cheeks. “I’m used to living with two teenage girls, my sister, and my cousin, who is like a younger sister. We say what we think too often.”
“I like honesty, and there’s no need to apologize,” Travis told her.
“So, one whole floor is a think tank?” Grace asked. “Is this whole building just for your business?”
“We have a big corporation here, and we’re growing every year,” he said between bites. “You are aware that Claud and his cronies would like to see your doughnuts sold all over the United States, and so would I. I’d be willing to buy the recipe and let you continue to use it in your shop for the next say”—he frowned—“twenty-five years. That way, your lifestyle could continue as it is, but I could—”
Grace held up a palm. “Stop right there.”
“Is there a loophole where you wouldn’t sell me the recipe?” he asked. He went on before she could assure him again that she wasnotselling: “Maybe instead of getting money, you would own a nice big chunk of stock in the bakery, and I could hire you to show my staff how to make the doughnuts in small batches. We could only make a certain amount to ship out each day. Law of supply and demand would work.”
Grace was getting a little annoyed at his constant asking and trying to figure out ways to get her to agree to his plans. It was very evident that he was only talking to her because of the deal, and that was a waste of her time. “Like I said the first time you asked about buying my recipe: even if I could, I wouldn’t. And I’m not interested in owning shares of a mass-production bakery. Even doing what you suggested would put the recipe in the hands of other people, who might take it home with them and put it on the internet. So the answer is and will always be no. But thank you for the offer.”
“That just burst my bubble,” Travis said with a long sigh. “I guess I can be thankful that Devine is only half an hour away and I can either drive down there or send someone to get pastries for me anytime I want.”
“You better buy extra on Saturday,” Grace said with a smile. “We aren’t open on Sunday.”
Travis bit into a slice of pizza. “I’ll remember that.” He chewed quickly and swallowed. “Would you consider selling me the acreage around your business so I can put in a housing development?”
Grace shook her head. If awards were given for persistence, he would have a blue ribbon. “That land belongs to all three of us, so I couldn’t make that decision,” she answered. “My first notion on the idea is to turn the offer down. That would put a housing addition right next to our shop.”
“Which,” Travis said with a smile, “would be amazing for business. Every one of those people would figure out how good your doughnuts are and buy them on their way to work each morning.”
“And it would give us close neighbors,” she countered. “I’m not so sure we’re ready for that, but I will ask my partners for their opinion.Isn’t there other property near Devine that you could buy? I’ve seen signs that say ‘acreage for sale’ between Devine and San Antonio.”
“Probably. But to help the town financially, I should think about building within the city limits, right?” he asked.
Grace kept eating but nodded and wondered what Sarah and Macy would have to say about selling their land. The property, like the shop, had been in the family for so long that she couldn’t imagine selling it, or having anyone live close to them.
“You’re frowning,” Travis said.
“Am I?” She raised an eyebrow. “I can’t imagine that Macy or Sarah will want to sell the land, but I will ask them.”
“Will you let me know what your partners say about your land sometime next week?” Travis asked. “I’d like to give Claud and the guys some good news before the bad. They were all pumped up about a factory in Devine.”
“I can do that,” she agreed.
“How about I pick you up for dinner on Wednesday, and we can talk about it more then? How many acres do you have?” he asked.
“We own half a section, which is three hundred and twenty acres. We have three hundred leased to a rancher, who runs cattle on it right now. The lease is up on May 1, but he has always renewed it,” she answered.
“Wow!” Travis exclaimed. “If I sold it in three-acre lots and advertised it as rustic life out of the city, we could sell a hundred homes down there; most likely, they’d be under contract to buy as fast as we could get them built.”
Grace wanted to ask just whowewould be. Did he have investors outside this huge building with one floor devoted to a group who did nothing but think? Or was he so rich, he could jump into a project like that without anyone having a say-so? But she just finished her last few bites, pushed back her chair, and brought the doughnuts to the table.
