“He’s hiring local folks to fix some odds and ends in the store before the grand opening, so naturally he called me.”
Claire glanced toward the front of the store, over the heads of the seated customers, and out the window to Bradford Breads. So, he’d hired her handywoman, eh? Probably thought he could get insider information. “What did you tell him about Sandcastles?”
Sally’s face scrunched. “Tell him? What are you talking about? I fixed some trim that had come loose on the doorframe over there.”
“Did he ask you questions about Sandcastles?”
“Yeah, he asked if I thought you’d be willing to work with him. Didn’t I just say that?”
Claire sighed. “I mean specifics. Like maybe what our busiest day is or what pastry we sell the most of.”
Sally took her time chewing the bite of muffin. “Nope. Why would he want to know any of that?”
Good question. What would he gain from getting insider information on Sandcastles? Claire wasn’t sure. But then again, she wasn’t exactly up on the various goals and objectives of corporate espionage. Rob Bradford probably was, though. People didn’t get bakery chains by being naive about business.
Sally was still looking at her like she wanted an answer, but Claire was saved from having to answer by the pipes in the bathroom, which decided to let out a series of disturbing gurgles.
“Are you sure the patch on the pipes will hold? I’ve been hearing some gurgling.” As if to punctuate that sentence, someone flushed the toilet in the café washroom, and the gurgling noises intensified. Fearfully, Claire stared at the wall, picturing a geyser erupting at any minute. She really hoped that didn’t happen. She only had one public washroom, and if something in there broke, she would have to close the shop per town regulations. And if she had to close the shop, she wouldn’t be able to make the cupcakes.
Sally popped the last of her muffin into her mouth and chewed. She shrugged and swallowed. “I don’t know. You heard what Ralph said about the pipes, but gurgling doesn’t have much to do with leaking. The patch should hold. Whether or not you’ll have another leak…” Sally shrugged to indicate she couldn’t make a prediction on that.
Right, well at least Sally wasn’t expounding on how she should team up with Rob Bradford anymore. To distract herself, Claire set back to work. Even though it was early in the day, she wanted to get setup for the evening’s baking. That way they could get started as soon as possible. She had time to make up for after yesterday.
“Flour, sugar, eggs, cocoa…” she muttered under her breath, listing the things she needed to bake the cupcakes.
She puttered toward the cupboards that housed her ingredients in pursuit of the first one. She pulled out the flour canister. It was empty. There were no helpfully stacked bags waiting next to it. She and her helpers had used all her flour last night.
Fortunately, she had thought ahead and sent in an order to her supplier for yesterday’s delivery. She’d found it on the back doorstep when she had returned from Tides and tugged it into the shop before drying herself off and preparing for her helpers to come for the night’s baking. They’d used up most of the flour she’d already had on hand and would need the new batch for tonight. Where had she put it?
She scanned the kitchen until she spotted the cardboard box with its distinctive logo on the side. Sunshine Flour was a US-based company that had the best flour she’d ever used. She lifted the box on the counter and took out a kitchen knife to break the seal of the delivery sticker on top.
The ink on the sticker was smudged. Claire had a sick feeling but ignored it as she cut into the sticker, which was dry, and the tape beneath. The box had been delivered yesterday while she was searching for Addie during the storm. Hailey, who hadn’t been able to stay after all, due to a conflict in her babysitter’s schedule, had manned the front only until the last customer had run to their car to drive home before the storm got worse. With the rain pouring down in sheets, Hailey had texted that she doubted Claire would be losing customers and she had to rush home to be with Jennifer before her babysitter left. She hadn’t checked the back door before closing, and Claire had been too frazzled to remind her.
The cardboard beneath the tape wasn’t moist exactly, but it didn’t feel as sturdy as it should have. Claire reached inside the box to lift the first of the bags of flour stacked neatly on their sides to fit as many as possible into the box. The paper bag was still damp.
“Oh no.”
She hefted the heavy bag and tore open the contents. It was wet and clumpy. Ruined. This wasn’t good. She might not have enough flour to bake the cupcakes tonight.
“What’s the matter?” Sally asked.
“The flour got wet.”
It was one bag. Maybe the others…
She opened another bag. Ruined. A third. Ruined. That left only two. Even if they were both fine, she had to bake at least ten dozen cupcakes tonight, or she would fall too far behind to be ready for the sale.
“Why don’t I run down to the grocery store and fetch you a few more bags?”
The offer was sweet, but Claire shook her head. “I don’t buy my flour from the grocery store. I buy it from a specialty supplier. They have a pastry blend that is extremely soft and fine. I can’t use grocery store flour, or the cupcakes won’t have the same quality my customers are used to. I’ll order more, but it will take at least a day to get here, and I have part-time help coming tonight to bake, and—”
Sally patted her arm. She had a kind face. Somehow, the crumb clinging to the corner of her mouth made her all the more sympathetic. “Is that the brand?” She tapped the side of the box.
Claire nodded. “Sunshine Flour.”
A gleam entered Sally’s eyes, and she stepped back with a sly smile. “Then I know exactly where to get you some. That Rob Bradford had a stack of these same flour bags in his shop. I’m sure he’d agree to let you borrow some if I asked.”
“No, don’t—”
Claire was too late. Sally had already turned and rushed out the door, leaving Claire with the unmistakable feeling that the day was about to turn into even more of a headache.
Rob frowned at the trim old handywoman who stared up at him expectantly. “You want to borrow a cup of flour?” Granted, it was the neighborly thing to do, but as a bakery, he’d never precisely been asked. It looked like Lobster Bay was going to keep him on his toes.
Sally hooked her thumbs in the straps of her overalls. “Ayuh, well, I was thinking more like several bags. It’s for Claire, across the road.”
“Really?” Rob’s gaze skipped to Sandcastles. Claire had sent Sally over to borrow flour? What an interesting turn of events.
“Claire’s shipment of flour got wet because, with all the hoopla going on up at Tides, the delivery was left outside in the rain. She’s fresh out of flour, and they don’t make emergency deliveries, so she’d have to wait until tomorrow.” Sally leaned closer. “She’s got all those cupcakes to make for the bake sale, and she needs that flour tonight.”
Rob’s smile widened. She needed the flour for the sale? This could be exactly the thing that would win Claire over.
“I’d be happy to bring over some flour for Claire. She needs one bag?”
“I’d say closer to three. She lost at least three in her shipment, and she has part-time help coming over this evening to bake.”
Perfect. Lending her flour for that would surely show her that he had no ill will toward her bakery. “Why don’t I lend her four bags just to be sure she has enough? They’re heavy. I’ll carry them across the street for you.”
Sally was robust. As a handywoman, she kept in pretty good shape despite her age. Rob had seen her carry some pretty heavy boards around. Nevertheless, a sneaky smile spread across her face. “What a great idea. I’m sure I couldn’t carry all four.”
In the end, Sally lugged one bag while he carried the other three. She led him around the building to the door on the side of Sandcastles, which opened directl
y into the kitchen.
As he stepped inside, he noticed the kitchen was old but had a rustic charm. The sweet smell of cookies hit his nose, and his stomach grumbled.
The color was high in Claire’s cheeks as she turned from where she’d been pulling the cookies out of the oven. She had an apron tied around her waist, and he noticed that it accentuated her curves. He forced himself to look her in the eye as he gallantly offered her the bags of flour.
“I hope four is enough for your purposes.”
“I don’t want to put you out. I wasn’t going to ask to borrow any, but someone”—she glanced at Sally over Rob’s shoulder—“ran off before I could stop her. I mean, it’s not like I’m so unprepared that I need to borrow flour.”
So Claire hadn’t sent Sally over on purpose? Darn, for a minute there he’d thought he’d made some progress with the feisty baker.
Rob set the bags of flour down on the counter. “It’s no trouble. I had extra. Sally told me yours got wet.”
Claire nodded. “In the storm yesterday.”
“Right.”
Tension hummed in the air between them, and Rob was uncertain what to say. Here was a great opportunity to broach the subject of the sale and the possibility of working together, but the frown on Claire’s face stopped him.
Sally was watching them like a hawk watching a wounded baby rabbit. “Claire has that big cupcake sale on Saturday. You have your big opening then, don’t you, Rob?”
“I do.” What was Sally up to? Rob supposed he didn’t mind. He could use the help since he wasn’t doing a good job himself.
“Well, since you’re both trying to get customers down here and you’re set up across the street from each other…”
“I hardly think people will want to shop in both stores, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Claire peeled the oversized cookies off the tray with a rubber spatula and set them carefully on a cooling rack. They were golden brown with sugar crystals on top. Rob’s mouth watered.
“I disagree.” Sally reached for a cookie, touching it tentatively to see if it was too hot. “I think after choosing the bread they’re going to have at supper or keep in the kitchen for sandwiches, people are going to want to relax with a coffee and pastry. You guys could cross-promote. Would be better for both of you.”
Claire hesitated, and for a moment, Rob thought she might be considering it. “That might have been a good idea a few weeks ago, but now there are only two days, and it’s just not enough time to set anything up. Besides, all my time is taken between now and then. I don’t have time to plan anything. Unlike some people, I can’t just leave my shop willy-nilly.” Claire shot Rob a pointed look.
Ouch! The only reason he could leave was because the shop wasn’t open yet. Once it was, he would be tied to it as much as Claire was tied here. Even though he owned a chain of stores, he worked just as hard as anyone, especially in this particular store since he would be the manager. But he could tell that Claire had made up her mind. There would be no point in pushing because that would only make her dig her heels in more.
He raised his hands in surrender. “You might be right. There isn’t a lot of time to make a plan. I hope the flour helps.”
Claire’s demeanor softened. Almost reluctantly, as if the words were dragged from her, she murmured, “Thank you for the flour, and that was a nice thing you did for Addie yesterday.”
Rob shoved his hands in his pockets, suddenly self-conscious. “It was nothing really. I mean, I know how heart-wrenching it is when a loved one wanders off, so when I heard she’d gone missing, I had to volunteer to help. Plus, I’d met Addie the day before, and she’s a real firecracker. I would hate to think of her coming to any harm.”
Claire nodded. They were silent as her gaze held his for just a fraction of a second. In that fraction, Rob felt like he’d made some progress.
Sally broke the silence, her voice pointed. “Rob is widowed.”
Despite his resolve to keep his past to himself, he’d found himself opening up to the town handywoman enough to tell her that much. But why was she blurting that out now?
Claire shot Sally a look then muttered. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Claire is divorced.”
Color washed into Claire’s cheeks. “Sally!”
The old woman grinned, seemingly pleased with herself. “I thought you ought to know. To make it easier to work together. No jealous wives or husbands around to grumble if you two need to work late.”
Surprisingly bashful, Claire turned away. She didn’t look at Rob.
Rob glanced at Sally. Sally winked and reached for another cookie.
“I should get back to my shop. I have a lot of prep to do before Saturday.” Rob turned to leave through the back door.
“Thanks again for the flour,” Claire said.
He turned to catch her eye one last time, but she was already pulling bowls out of a cupboard, her back to him. “It’s my pleasure,” Rob said. “If you ever need anything, I’m right across the street.”
As Rob walked back over to his shop, he couldn’t keep from smiling. Even though Claire still didn’t want to work with him, he could tell he’d made some progress. It was going to be a challenge to break through Claire Turner’s tough shell, but he had a feeling it would be worth it.
Chapter Seventeen
Despite the late-summer sunset, darkness had fallen by the time Claire squeezed the last of the cupcakes into her fridge and shut the door. She waved wearily to Sarah, tugging the side door shut behind her so it would latch. Ashton would be leaving, too, after he cleaned up in the bathroom, but it was a habit to keep that door closed. She really should have Sally fix it soon.
Her feet aching, she lowered herself onto a stool and leaned her elbows onto the table. Sarah had wiped it down before leaving, and all three of them had done the dishes while the last batch of cupcakes was in the oven. Claire was eager to get home. Poor Urchin would be frantic for his dinner.
The toilet flushed, and water gurgled through the pipes. Claire made a face. The pipes had been groaning all night, as if they were haunted. She didn’t need that nightmare—or the reminder of replacing them. She’d contacted the bank about a small loan, but there was so much paperwork. She had no time to look at it.
The pipes hissed alarmingly, followed by a thunk and a muffled curse. A second later, Ashton stepped into the kitchen. His shoes squeaked on the floor, leaving a wet trail. He looked apologetic, wringing his hands. “I swear I didn’t do anything, Ms. Turner. It just started leaking on its own.”
“A leak?” Crap!
“It’s coming from under the sink in the bathroom. I don’t know how to fix it.”
“It’s fine,” she assured him. She must have a good poker face because he relaxed. If only she really did feel it was fine. “I’ll give Sally a call. She can fix it.” Or so Claire hoped. Was it the same place she’d already fixed, and if so, could someone even fix something like that twice?
Claire took a deep breath. It was still two days until the sale. Hopefully that was enough time to fix it, even if it needed something more than a patch. But still, she couldn’t have the bathroom out of commission at all because then the store would be shut down, and who would want to come to a cupcake sale at a place that had been shut down for two days?
Ashton was staring at her. “So I can go home?”
“Yes. Go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He didn’t wait to hear her say it again. He was out the door before she pulled her phone out of her apron pocket.
She dialed Sally, holding her breath as she approached the bathroom. Hopefully, she could convince Sally to work on it tonight. Timidly, Claire pushed open the door. The hiss was louder in there, the water pooling out from beneath the sink at an alarming rate. Oh no!
She bent down to look underneath. How in the world did one make this thing stop running?
Come on, Sally. Pick up!
“Hello?”
Claire blew out a
breath of relief upon hearing Sally’s voice. “Sally, I have a problem at the shop.” Her voice was high and shakier than she’d hoped. She swallowed hard.
“A problem?” A garble in the background pulled Sally’s attention from the phone. “Hush, honey. I’ll be done in a minute.” Then closer again. “What’s the problem?”
“A leak. In the bathroom.”
“Where is it coming from?”
“Under the sink.”
“Same spot as before?”
“I think so.”
“You think?”
Claire crouched down to take another look. “It’s kind of hard to tell with water spraying everywhere.” Just then, even more water gushed out. She pulled away, leaving the door wide open. The water spewed from the cabinet to the growing puddle on the floor.
Claire ran to the kitchen and grabbed some towels. “Definitely the same place. How do I turn this thing off?”
“Turn the valve.”
Claire dropped the towels on the floor. They became soaked immediately. “Valve?”
“It’s easy. Look under the sink. There’s a knob on the side of the pipe that leads from the sink to the floor. Find it and turn it.”
Afraid of her phone getting wet, Claire thumbed the button to turn the call onto speaker and put it on the vanity counter. Taking a deep breath, she stuck her head inside the cabinet. Cold water splashed over her arm and down her front as she groped for the knob.
She found it. Turned. The knob stopped with a creak. “It’s not working. I think it’s getting worse!”
“It can’t get worse. The water is either on or it’s off. Turn it the other way.”
Claire did so, her hand slipping over the cold metal before she got a firm grip. As she turned it as far as possible in the other direction, the fountain of water slowed and then stopped. Claire sat back on her heels. She was soaked, but she’d stopped the water.
Except now there was no water to the sink. And no water meant no bathroom for the customers. She needed Sally to get there to fix it.
Saving Sandcastles Page 10