Forever Fudge

by Nancy CoCo

  “I’m all yours,” she said.

  “Thanks.” I grabbed my purse and headed out the back. The meeting was at the administration building two blocks behind the McMurphy. I got there as the meeting started and grabbed a seat next to a man I hadn’t met yet. “Hi, thanks,” I said as he moved stuff to let me sit next to him. “Allie McMurphy,” I introduced myself.

  “Mike Hampton,” he said, and shook my hand. “Are you for or against this crazy thing?”

  “Against,” I said. “I think they should be paying us to film on Main Street, not the other way around.”

  “That’s a pretty unpopular stand,” Mike said.

  “What brings you here?” I asked.

  Mayor Andrews hit the gavel. “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s get started.” The meeting flowed around me as I listened to all the arguments for and against. I noted Mike seemed to be in the “for” column although I still had no idea what part on Main Street his business was on. Mackinac Island was a small community but I was still fairly new and trying to place people with their businesses.

  I did a quick search with my phone and stood up. “Mayor Andrews,” I said.

  “Yes, Ms. McMurphy.” She allowed me to speak.

  “A simple search of how production companies work shows me that the production company pays the city a permit fee to close streets and film. Nowhere do I see that people pay the production company to film their businesses.”

  “Are we being scammed?” Berta Flatbush asked from across the aisle.

  “I just checked with my sister in Chicago,” Mrs. Aimes said from in front of me. “She tells me that the production company pays the city when they want to shoot a movie.”

  “I demand to know what is going on,” Phil Rosenthal said from my right. “Are we competing for the right to film in front of our businesses or not?”

  “Now, now,” the mayor said, and slammed her gavel. “Calm down, everyone. This is not a scam. Think of it as a friendly competition.”

  “Who gets the money?” I asked.

  “The island Chamber of Commerce,” the mayor said. “When the production company said they couldn’t shoot both sides of Main Street equally, it was decided that the Chamber would auction off one side of Main Street to be filmed.”

  “So it wasn’t the production company asking for cash?” I clarified.

  “The winner of the auction will receive full rights to film their side of the street along with full exterior shots of their property to run in the opening montage for the show,” the mayor said. “Ladies and gentlemen, it is a competition. The film rights committee decided that the auction was the only way to fairly divide this resource. All proceeds will go back to the Chamber of Commerce to help promote Mackinac Island tourism.”

  “That was clever,” Mike said as he leaned in so that only I could hear.

  “What?”

  “That clarification move you did,” he said. “Everyone came here thinking they had to pay to get the film crew to shoot their side of Main Street. Now they see they don’t.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be clever,” I said. “I wanted the mayor to clarify what was going on.”

  “Well, I’m not opposed to winning the bid to have my business filmed,” Mr. Thompson said. Thompson owned the bed-and-breakfast on the other side of the alley behind me. At one time his grandfather and my grandfather had built a pool house between the two properties and guests from both places used the enclosed pool. But over time Henry took a dislike to the McMurphy and soon banned my guests from the pool house.

  “You’re not located on Main Street,” Mrs. Aimes pointed out. “You are on Market Street.”

  “That doesn’t matter, does it, Mayor?” he asked. “It seems to me that a high bid is a high bid. Winner takes all.”

  The mayor pondered the problem for a moment and then pounded her gavel. “Winner takes all,” she declared.

  “I bid five thousand dollars,” Mr. Thompson said.

  The room erupted into complaints.

  The mayor pounded with her gavel. “I have a bid of five thousand dollars. Do I hear five five?”

  “Six thousand,” Mrs. Aimes said.

  “Seven thousand,” Mr. Thompson said.

  “Ten thousand,” Mrs. Aimes said. “As long as you include dinner with Dirk Benjamin.”

  “I bid fifteen thousand,” Mr. Thompson said.

  “He is nuts,” I said to Mike.

  “It’s the thrill of the hunt,” he said.

  “I bid twenty thousand dollars,” Paige Jessop said as she walked into the meeting. “They will shoot in front of the stables and wherever we want around town.”

  Mr. Thompson opened his mouth but no sound came out.

  “Twenty thousand once,” the mayor said.

  Mr. Thompson’s mouth gaped again.

  “Twenty thousand twice,” the mayor said. “And sold to Paige Jessop.”

  I felt relief course through me. I wouldn’t have to spend any money and Thompson still didn’t get to have filming on Market Street.

  “And that’s how you get things done,” Mike said.

  “Paige is good at that,” I said. We got up to leave. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch where you work.”

  “I’m retired,” Mike said. “I came to see what was going on in town.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Where are you retired from?”

  “I retired from Applewhite and Birch in Chicago,” he said. “I was in advertising for years.”

  “That’s a fun business,” I said.

  “It is cutthroat,” he said.

  “Do you miss it?”

  “The cutthroat part?” he asked. “Or the creative?”

  “Both,” I said with a laugh.

  “I spend my time painting,” he said. “So my creative is good.”

  “If you’re selling those paintings, that can be pretty cutthroat,” I said.

  “I don’t sell my paintings,” he said. “But I have other ways of sparking my interests.”

  “Oh, do you fish?” I asked as we stepped outside.

  “I prefer more urbane hobbies,” he said.

  “Right, you are from Chicago,” I said. “Do you have a place in the city?”

  “I do, but right now I prefer the island,” he said.

  “I studied in Chicago,” I said. “But I prefer to live on the island. My family history is here. Do you have family on the island?”

  “My grandparents owned a cottage and left it to me when they died. We Hamptons have lived on the island for nearly as long as your family, Ms. McMurphy.”

  “I’m sorry we haven’t met sooner,” I said, and shook his hand. “I’m working on meeting everyone on the island.”

  “Allie, do you have a minute?” Paige called to me from the administration building door.

  “I’ve got to go,” I said. “So nice to meet you.” I turned to Paige. “Paige, I thought you were in the city for the rest of the year.”

  “I came out because I’m worried about Trent,” she said. “And well, other things.”

  “Wait—how did you know about the auction?”

  “Mother,” she said. “She wanted me to be sure that only Jessop properties were featured in the filming.”

  “Of course,” I said.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you,” she said. “You weren’t bidding.”

  “I’m saving my money for other things,” I said, and crossed my arms over my chest. I promised myself I wouldn’t be defensive. Paige was well-bred and looked as if she spent her whole life in a spa. She was dressed with cool casualness that belied the expense of her clothing. It was well-heeled comfort. I felt a bit shabby in my sundress and sandals.

  “I wasn’t going to bid against you,” she said. “You’re practically family.”

  That made me smile wryly. “Trent and I broke up.”

  “Trent is over the moon for you,” she said, and put her arm through mine and turned me toward Main Street. “Come on, let’s get a coffee and talk ab
out things. I’ve never had a sister before.”

  “Neither have I,” I said as I let her lead me along. “But I would prefer you don’t make any assumptions about my relationship—or lack thereof—with your brother.”

  “Okay, so I might have gone too far with the whole sister thing,” she said, and steered me forward. “Let’s have coffee anyway. There’s some things I want to talk to you about.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like how my family feels about you and Trent.”

  I sighed long and hard. This was a conversation I was hoping to avoid. I guess it was best to tackle it head-on.

  Chapter 7

  We got coffee from a little coffee hut on the corner and sat in the sunshine. There was sidewalk seating with black wrought-iron café tables and chairs. With the tourist season pretty much over, there weren’t too many people wandering about. Being on a side street helped.

  “I hope you didn’t come all this way to try to talk me into fixing my relationship with Trent,” I said as I wrapped my hands around the paper cup filled with a chai tea latte.

  “My mother sent me, actually,” she said, and sipped her drink. “We wanted to ensure we were a big part of the filming for the pilot. She heard the mayor was trying to build a rivalry between sides of Main Street.” She shrugged. “We own businesses on both sides so it only made sense that we put forth the effort to win the bid.”

  “I understand that,” I said. “I’m glad this isn’t about Trent and me.”

  “I wanted to have coffee to check in with you. I haven’t had much time to get to know you.”

  “You are busy with your family businesses,” I said. “So am I.”

  She blew out a long breath. “My father has announced plans to retire next year,” she said. “He’s been grooming Trent to take over as president of Jessop Enterprises.”

  “No wonder he’s been so busy.”

  “Trent’s been pushing back,” Paige said. “The family is worried. Trent has been a real trooper, always doing what was best for the family. That all changed after he met you.”

  “I’m not going to take responsibility for your family squabbles,” I said.

  “Good,” Paige said. “I thought that’s how you felt.”

  “It’s none of your business, but the main reason I broke up with Trent was that we want different lifestyles. I’ve spent my life prepping to make the McMurphy my home and business.”

  “Trent hasn’t been the same since he wasn’t invited to Frances’s wedding,” Paige said. “He’s distracted and moody. Mother wanted me to check with you and see if you had any idea why.”

  “You should ask him,” I said.

  “I’m worried that he’s obsessing over you because you broke up with him. Trent is used to getting his way in relationships. You’re the first woman to break up with him. He’s usually the one to move on.”

  “Well, I certainly am not going to take him back so that he can focus on the family business.”

  Paige laughed. It was like a sweet clear bell sound “Oh no, Allie,” she said, and touched my hand. “I’m not here to ask you to take Trent back.”

  Okay, I have to admit that stung. I knew I wasn’t on the same social level as they were, but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to hear.

  “I’m here to let you know that my family supports whatever decision you make. We really admire you. You’ve taken your family business by the horns and are doing quite well for not having any real experience.”

  “Wait, I worked as a candy maker for years as I put myself through college.”

  “See? You are quite the go-getter,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “We Jessops admire people who pull themselves up by their bootstraps. It’s how we made our fortune.”

  “Why are we having coffee?” I asked, and sat back.

  Paige leaned into the table. “Because I want to be your friend. I don’t care whether you date Trent or not. I admire what you’ve done here and I think we can be great friends.”

  “But you live in Chicago,” I had to point out.

  “Father wants me to run the Mackinac Island businesses so I’m going to move into the cottage full time.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Oh, congratulations! I know you will be great at running things.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “I wondered if we could meet for lunch once a week. That way I can pick your brain on how to manage a Mackinac Island business. I’d like you to be my mentor.”

  “Seriously?” I sat up straight. Paige had an Ivy League education. She wanted to have me as a mentor.

  “I’m very serious,” she said. “It was Mother’s idea that I contact you. She really thinks you have a good grasp of what you want and you are innovative in how you do it. For instance, I have no idea how you managed to snag Sandy Everheart, but her chocolatier business complements your fudge shop wonderfully. You two are doing a shared business concept, right?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I’m also sharing business space with Jenn. She is running an event-planning business.”

  “But I heard that she is going back to Chicago,” Paige said. “Are you going to replace her?”

  “It’s off-season,” I said. “With the decrease in fudge sales, I can do most of Jenn’s work.”

  “You plan on adding an event-planning business to your workload?”

  “I don’t think I need to worry about event planning,” I said. “Jenn can do a few hours a week from Chicago for next season.”

  “Ah, I see,” she said. “You really do plan for everything.”

  “Well, welcome to island living,” I said. “To female entrepreneurs.” I lifted my cup in a toast.

  “To a great working relationship,” she said and we touched cups.

  “Speaking of work,” I said, and stood. “I have to get back. Frances and Mr. Devaney are still on their honey-moon.”

  “Thanks for meeting with me,” Paige said. “When is a good time to get together for our first lunch?”

  “You will probably need a week to get moved in and settled,” I said. “How about a week from Saturday? We can get together for lunch at the Nag’s Head.”

  “Perfect,” Paige said, and made a note on her phone. “I’ll send an email reminder.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “And good luck working with the production company on the pilot shoot. It will be a real business boom if the pilot gets picked up and they use your exteriors. People love to come see where things are shot.”

  “The Grand still gets people who come see the places they shot that old movie Somewhere in Time.”

  “Speaking of the Grand,” I said. “I’m surprised they didn’t have a representative at the meeting vying for screen time.”

  “They don’t have to,” Paige said. “They fend off requests to film on their property all the time.”

  “I understand that the show is about an amateur sleuth who owns a hotel. Dirk Benjamin plays the local policeman who is at odds with the heroine. Dirk has been following Rex for at least two days now.”

  “Oh, I bet Rex loves that,” Paige said with a laugh. “I’m going to have to visit Rex and tease him.”

  “Are you sure you’re not going to check out Dirk up close and in person?”

  “Frankly, I’m not impressed. I’ve met Dirk before at a fund-raiser in Chicago. He is handsome enough, but not very bright. It will be interesting to see how he portrays the policeman.”

  “Maybe the sleuth will talk circles around him,” I said. “It will be fun to see how the script plays out. I’m guessing no matter what happens, Rex won’t be happy.”

  “But the mayor and the film committee are happy,” Paige said. “They should be as they are twenty thousand dollars richer.”

  “I’m certain you’ll get a good bang for your buck,” I said. “Even if it only goes one season, things last forever on the Internet.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping for,” Paige said. “Thanks for agreeing to mentor me.”

  “My pleasure,” I said, and
meant it. Maybe this day wasn’t going to be a total loss after all.

  Chapter 8

  “Allie McMurphy,” Mrs. Allen said as I walked past her fudge shop on my side of Main Street. “I cannot believe you let that Jessop girl outbid our side of the street to win the film rights.”

  “Hello, Mrs. Allen,” I said. “How are you this afternoon?” Sometimes it helped to fight fire with a cool, cheerful attitude.

  “I’m not happy, not happy at all,” she muttered. “I had plans for them filming my fudge shop. I was hoping they would use it for an interior shot on the series. People would come from all over to see that—especially with Dirk Benjamin as the lead.”

  “The Jessops own the bar across the street from your fudge shop,” I pointed out. “Also they own the stables just a block down Main Street from you.”

  “So?” She shook her head.

  “I’m sure the characters will have to walk from the fudge shop to the stables at some point in the script. That means they are going to film right in front of your fudge shop. They may even feature it.”

  “They might?”

  “You never know,” I said with a shrug. “You could get filmed and not have to pay a cent for it to show off your shop.”

  “Huh,” she said as the thought stopped her short.

  “You’re welcome,” I said, and continued to the McMurphy. I pushed through the doors and listened to the jangling bells. Mal came scrambling toward me, putting the brakes on a few feet away and sliding into my shins. “Hello, Mal,” I said and she stood on her back legs and begged for me to pick her up. “How was your afternoon?”

  I picked up the dog and stuck my head into the fudge shop. It was empty. The kitchen was clean and a few pounds of fudge still sat in the enclosed candy counter. But it looked like Sandy was done for the day.

  The lobby was empty as I made my way to the stairs. Jenn came flying down them, practically bowling me over. “Whoa,” I said. “What’s the hurry? Have I made you late?”

  “You were gone a long time,” Jenn said, and hurried down the stairs, tucked in behind Frances’s reception desk, and gathered up a wayward pair of blue pumps. “I’m going to be late for my dinner date with Shane.” She stood and wiggled the blue knit jersey dress down to a descent half-thigh height. “How do I look?”