Beachfront Bakery 02 - A Murderous Macaron

by Fiona Grace

  “Yes…” Ali said, tentatively.

  “I’m so sorry,” Nate said. “I forgot all about it. I’m going to have to cancel. I really need to get this done tonight.”

  Ali’s chest heaved. She could’ve been on a date with Seth instead of getting stood up by Nate for a surfing lesson she didn’t even want!

  “That’s okay,” she said with an air of disappointment. “We can surf another day. How about I help you with this instead?”

  Nate pulled a face. “With my inventory check? Why? It’s boring!”

  Ali gave a coy shrug. She was about to say, “Because I have nothing else to do,” when she decided against it. She hadn’t offered because she was bored, but because she wanted to spend time with him. So why not just say it outright?

  “Because I’d like to hang out with you,” she said, channeling Seth’s confidence from their earlier encounter. “I haven’t seen you much recently. It feels like ages since we spent time together.”

  She assessed his face, trying to see how he would take her admission. He was hard to read, but he seemed hesitant.

  “Thing is, it’s finicky,” he said, either failing to pick up on what she was saying or choosing to avoid it. “I should really do it myself.”

  “I run my own store,” Ali said. “I know how to do an inventory check.”

  “I don’t need your help,” Nate said suddenly, firmly.

  Ali balked. “Oh. Okay.”

  Message received, loud and clear.

  She took a step back and patted the bag of pastries on the counter awkwardly. “I guess I’ll just leave these here for you.”

  Nate sighed. “Ali, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, already backing away, her pride stung. “We’ll catch up soon.” She flashed him a thumbs-up and left the store.

  The moment she was outside, a wave of unhappiness washed over her. She’d never seen that side of Nate. Sure, he was busy with a boring task, and he’d apologized and everything, but the way he’d snapped had been downright unpleasant.

  And to think she’d turned down Seth for him! A gorgeous, seemingly uncomplicated, confident New Yorker.

  Suddenly, Ali heard Lavinia’s voice in her mind. “Affairs of the heart are not as complicated as you think they are. Love is actually very simple. It either is, or it is not. Love, when it comes to you, will come easily and naturally.”

  Easy. Natural. Those two words definitely didn’t describe how things were feeling with Nate at the moment…

  Ali wondered if perhaps Seth was the man Lavinia had predicted in her future.

  With a sudden surge of adrenaline, Ali wondered if perhaps it wasn’t too late to take him up on his offer of a date tonight after all. Maybe there was still a chance, if she hurried, to catch him in his store!

  She took off down the boardwalk, feeling almost giddy with excitement. Was she acting crazy? No. Seth had been forthright about his intentions. Her turning up at the end of his shift was hardly bold in comparison.

  Excitement raced through her.

  Was Seth the love of her life that Lavinia had predicted?

  *

  Ali came to a halt outside the hot dog place, panting from the effort of having jogged there. To her disappointment, it was in darkness. The doors were shut. The lights were off. Seth had gone.

  Disappointment made her shoulders slump.

  “Great,” she muttered.

  She peered through the windows. Seth had made a lot of headway during the day since she’d last seen him. There were also posters in the windows advertising all the different hot dogs he was selling.

  “Banh-mi style hot dog?” she read aloud. She’d never heard of it before. It sounded Asian.

  She decided to text her sister and ask. Hannah’s husband, Jackson, was Chinese-American. His parents were both first generation Chinese immigrants, and they’d passed their love of Asian food on to the rest of the family. If anyone would know what a banh-mi style hot dog was, it would be Hannah. And at least she could use the knowledge to impress Seth at a later date.

  She fired off her text and began to trudge home, feeling dispirited about how her evening had turned out.

  Just as she reached the entrance to the pier, she heard a bark and turned to see Scruff bounding toward her.

  “Hey, boy,” she said, crouching to pet him. “Did you hear the news? Auntie Ali’s made a total mess of her love life.”

  Scruff barked. Ali took it as a yes. Just then, her phone started to ring.

  “Excuse me one second,” she said to Scruff, checking her phone’s screen. To her surprise, it was Hannah’s name flashing at her.

  Ali always got an ominous feeling when her sister called, since it was such a rare occurrence. What was her sister doing calling her? Surely answering a hot dog general trivia quiz didn’t warrant an actual call?

  “I’d better get this,” she told Scruff, a nagging sense of worry in her chest.

  Scruff barked his acknowledgment and bounced off down the pier in search of someone else to donate him scraps. As Ali watched him go, her gaze was drawn to the bright flashing lights of the fairground rides at the end, and the bright yellow Ferris wheel she remembered riding with her father as a young girl. It had been a while since she’d taken a nighttime stroll along the pier, and she decided a relaxing perambulation might be just the thing she needed now she’d found herself at a loose end. She followed the direction Scruff had gone and answered the call from her sister.

  “Hannah?”

  “It’s Vietnamese,” Hannah announced. “Pork sausage, usually served with pickled vegetables and wasabi. Jackson and the kids love it, obviously. Why?”

  “No reason,” Ali replied, evasively. “I thought you’d know.”

  The last person she would ever talk to about her love life was Hannah. Indeed, she was more inclined to discuss her personal life with a stray dog than her sister.

  She paused. Hannah could’ve easily put that in a text. She still didn’t understand why her sister had gone to the effort of calling.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked.

  “With me?” Hannah replied. “Yes, of course. You’re the one to worry about. My rogue little sister.”

  “I’m fine,” Ali replied. “Actually, I’m really good. I’m launching a new product tomorrow and—”

  “You are?” Hannah interrupted, sounding thrilled. “Oh, what a relief! I was just speaking to Mom about how you need to diversify. I mean, I know you managed to pay back Teddy off the back of the cupcake boom, but I’m glad you’ve seen some sense and know the bakery bubble will burst soon.”

  Ali’s hand tightened around her cell phone as she tensed. So that was the purpose of Hannah’s call, was it? She’d just used the text as an excuse to call Ali so she could pounce on her.

  “What’s the product?” Hannah asked.

  “Macarons,” Ali replied.

  Hannah’s brightness immediately vanished. “Oh. I thought you meant—”

  “I know what you thought,” Ali interjected. “You thought I was dropping the whole pastry thing altogether. Well, I’m not. My business is going brilliantly.”

  “Is it though?” Hannah pressed. “Or are you still just milking the hype from that radio man?”

  Ali ground her teeth. “‘That radio man’ has brought thousands of people through my door so far. And it’s not showing any sign of slowing down.”

  “If you say so,” Hannah replied. “But are you sure macarons are the way to go? Their heyday was a decade ago, and I don’t think the trends are suggesting a resurgence in popularity anytime soon.”

  Ali ground her teeth. That’s all anything ever was to Hannah. Graphs. Profits. Trends. It was so corporate. So soulless.

  “Maybe I’m ahead of the curve,” Ali said, tersely. “Maybe I’m the trend-setter.”

  “Hmm,” came Hannah’s noncommittal response. “Well, next time you need a loan, please go to a proper investor rather than Teddy. You know how much he strugg
les.”

  “He offered,” Ali said, for the thousandth time. She was getting exasperated. “And it wasn’t a loan. I chose to pay him back because my business is doing so well and I can afford it and I love him.”

  “Yes, yes, of course, we all do,” Hannah replied, flippantly.

  She clearly wasn’t listening anymore, and she didn’t seem to believe a word Ali was saying. She could just imagine the telephone conversations she shared with her mother; they must think Ali was making the whole thing up!

  “Anyway,” Hannah replied. “I’m glad that you at least had a change of heart. I’d better go. Some idiot teaching assistant gave my children sugar at school and now they’re bouncing off the walls.”

  With that, the call cut out.

  Ali sighed. She returned her cell phone to her pocket and leaned her arms against the railings of the pier. She stared out at the ocean, her sister’s words ringing in her ears.

  As she gazed at the flashing lights of the Ferris wheel reflected in the water, Ali found her mind drifting to her father. He’d always been so encouraging of her dreams. If only he could be there now. He’d always supported her dreams and told her she could do anything she put her mind to. But then he’d left, and now Ali didn’t even know if she’d ever see him again.

  She sighed, feeling bitter and disappointed.

  Just then, the sound of Scruff’s bark broke Ali from her reverie. She turned and faced him, his cute furry face instantly lifting her spirits.

  “You’re right,” she said, decisively. “I need to stop moping about things I can’t change.”

  And with that, she turned her back on the Ferris wheel and headed home, intent on getting a good night’s sleep in anticipation of what was promising to be a very hectic day tomorrow.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Ali carried the heavy sandwich board from the kitchen to the front of her store. Mr. Macaron, her new mascot, looked as pleased as punch to be out under the early morning sun. Ali’s mood, on the other hand, was quite the opposite.

  She was supposed to have woken that morning giddy with excitement for her macaron launch. Instead, she’d woken in bad spirits. The phone call with Hannah had gotten to her. Her family’s lack of faith in her had really gotten her down in the dumps.

  “Morning!” came Delaney’s bright voice.

  Ali looked over to see her friend jogging toward her, a bright and cheery look on her face. She did not look like a woman who’d just run 5K. When Ali ran 5K, she looked like a hot, sweaty mess. Delaney, on the other hand, looked like a supermodel.

  Delaney drew to a halt and removed her ear buds. “Launch day!” she cried, pointing at Mr. Macaron. “How are you feeling?” She poked Ali playfully in the ribs.

  “Not great, to be honest,” Ali said.

  “Oh no,” Delaney said, her expression falling. “Why? What’s wrong? Did something happen with Nate last night?”

  Ali groaned. She’d actually forgotten about that particular disaster, and could’ve done without the reminder.

  She headed back inside her bakery, Delaney following.

  “Actually, it was my sister,” Ali explained, sidestepping the Nate question. “She called me yesterday.”

  “Uh-oh,” Delaney replied. She’d heard all about Ali’s tactless big sister. “Was she being a doomsayer?” she added, as she flopped in her usual window seat.

  “Yup,” Ali said.

  She poured them both a coffee from the freshly brewed pot, and settled into the seat beside Delaney.

  “How did she even find anything negative to say this time?” Delaney asked, clasping her mug in both hands. “You just wrote a five-thousand-dollar check to your brother!”

  “And yet, Hannah and my mom still seem to think I’m making a huge mistake. They think I’m still riding the wave of Randy’s recommendation and that it will all suddenly fall apart. So I tried to defend myself and explain I’m launching macarons. According to her, the macaron fad ended about a decade ago.”

  Delaney rolled her eyes.

  Ali’s gaze dropped into her black, swirling coffee. “She just looks at everything through this cold, corporate lens. Like she just doesn’t care how anything she says will affect me. If there’s a graph showing a downward trend for something, that’s all she cares about.”

  Delaney put her hand on top of Ali’s. “Well, I think on this occasion, she’s looking at the wrong graphs.”

  Ali frowned. “What do you mean?”

  But as she looked up from her coffee cup, she realized just what Delaney was getting at. A couple of passersby had noticed the Mr. Macaron sign and were now standing with their hands cupped to the window, peering in excitedly at the pretty rainbow macaron display. Ali had prepared eighteen different flavors, three shades for each color of the rainbow, and had them presented in the window with pretty hand-drawn labels. The flavors were an eclectic mix; the lurid green pistachio, pastel yellow buttercream, and dark purple black forest gateau, sitting alongside the more standard red strawberry, yellow banana, and chocolate brown. The people at the window were licking their lips.

  “Oh!” Ali exclaimed, hope jumping in her chest.

  Delaney flashed her a big grin. She squeezed her shoulder. “See. People are already excited about your macarons. And for good reason. They know you make the best desserts in town. So ignore Hannah and trust your gut. I have a feeling things are about to go from good to great for you.”

  “Thanks, Delaney,” Ali said, smiling. She felt blessed to have made such a caring friend, one who stopped by every day just to give her pep talks. She felt greatly cheered. “Can you sort out my love life for me too?” she joked.

  Delaney chuckled. “How about one thing at a time?” she suggested. She took a glug of coffee. “Hey, look. Now there’s a line forming.”

  Ali looked out the window. To her delight, it was true. People were starting to line up outside the door. She’d never expected that!

  “Maybe I should leave and let you open early?” Delaney suggested.

  “But Piper’s not here yet,” Ali replied. “I don’t think I can manage on my own.”

  Delaney gave her a look. “Since when? Two weeks ago you did everything on your own. And a few months before that, you left your hometown, boyfriend, and job, and came here on your own. You can open a half hour early without Piper, I promise you.” She stood, put her earbuds back in, and headed for the door.

  Before Ali had a chance to protest, Delaney had unlocked it, flung it wide open to the growing crowd, and exclaimed, “Seaside Sweets is open for business!” She flashed Ali a cheeky grin, then floated away for another easy-breezy 5K.

  Ali leapt up, abandoning her half-drunk coffee, and hurried to the counter. Customers began to steam inside, like air rushing to fill a vacuum.

  “Good morning!” she said to the woman who reached the till first. “How can I help you?”

  “I’d like to try your new macarons,” the woman said.

  “Of course,” Ali said. “Which flavor would you like?”

  The woman eyed the display at the counter. “Well, I’d like to try them all, to be honest. So I’d better get one of each. They’re two dollars each, right? Do you have any offers?”

  Ali blinked in surprise. “Did you just say you’d like one of each?”

  The woman nodded. “Yes, please. Oh look, it says here ten dollars for a box. How many fit in a box?”

  “Six,” Ali said, her voice breathy with surprise.

  “Perfect,” the woman said. “So that will be three boxes, right? For thirty dollars. What a bargain. Do you know what, better make it two of each flavor. My husband will want to try them all too, and I’m notoriously bad at sharing!”

  “That’s … six boxes?” Ali stammered, completely astonished. “You want to buy sixty dollars’ worth of macarons?”

  Ali could hardly believe it. When she’d come up with the promotional deal, she’d thought it would be a good way to entice people to try all the macarons of each shade. She�
��d expected people to ask for all the pastels, or all the neons, or all the darks. It never crossed her mind that people would want a box of each! Or that her first customer of the day would be willing to spend sixty dollars! She didn’t think she’d ever made that much in one sale before.

  She quickly snapped out of her stunned trance and began filling box after box with each of the flavored macarons. This was already going beyond her wildest expectations!

  *

  The bell tinkled, and in came Piper. Ali glanced at the clock, surprised to discover it was half past nine, and her employee was over an hour late. She’d been so busy dealing with a steady stream of customers she’d lost track of time.

  “Where have you been?” Ali exclaimed as her young assistant hurried to the counter and slipped an apron over her head.

  “I’m so sorry,” Piper exclaimed. “I snoozed my alarm, and then I was so groggy I messed up my eye makeup. And I knew how important today was, so I redid my whole face all over again.”

  Ali was far from impressed. Piper had totally misjudged her priorities by putting her appearance ahead of her presence, and Ali knew she would need to have stern words with her about it later. But she was too busy right now with customers to say anything.

  She handed two boxes over the counter to the woman she’d been in the middle of serving when Piper came in. “I hope your kids like them.”

  “I’m sure they will,” the woman replied, waving the boxes over her head like she’d won some kind of prize. “They love your coconut cupcakes.”

  She left, and Piper turned to Ali. “How’s it going here?” she asked. “You seem busy.”

  “It’s been like this all morning,” Ali told her. “I was rushed off my feet the second I opened the doors.”

  What would her mom and Hannah say if they were here to witness this? Surely they’d overcome their naysaying if they saw with their own eyes just how much happiness Ali was bringing to the people of Willow Bay.