Sugarplums and Mistletoe

by Michelle Pennington

  “My business is still new—less than two years old—and I’m barely running a profit. Such direct competition next door could really hurt me.”

  He was both relieved that it hadn’t been anything personal and unsure how to resolve the issue since he couldn’t just change locations. “I don’t think you need to worry. I’ve apprenticed in several of the finest chocolate shops in Zurich where there are dozens of chocolateries all over the city, some with world-renowned reputations over two centuries old. But most of them have more business than they can handle. If they can be successful with competition like that, think how easy it will be for you with a completely different product.”

  She bit her lip as if she was still worried but nodded. “Let’s hope so—for both our sakes. And I’ll try to be more neighborly from now on.” She held her hand out to him as if to shake on an agreement.

  He took it, shaking it slightly but retaining it in his grasp for a moment. “I’m glad. I would love to talk shop with you. I’ve made a lot of chocolate in my training, and I mean a LOT, but I’ve never owned my own business before. Not to mention that Willow Falls has changed a lot since I was last here.”

  “I’m sure it has. We never had anything like this when we were growing up, did we?” She waved her hand toward the lights around them.

  Mason chuckled and shook his head. “Not even close.”

  They stood together and watched the rest of the parade until Santa came by on a fire engine. Ruth looked back to her store as customers turned back to shopping. “Well, we’d better get back to it.”

  “Yeah. So, later, okay?”

  Her nod was very slight, but he saw it.

  Pleased that he’d been able smooth things over with her, he went back inside and got to work. But even with people raving about his samples and buying more chocolate than he’d dared hope for, he found it difficult to keep his mind on business. Memories of Ruth kept coming back to him—as if his subconscious was busy sorting through dusty files.

  She’d been the sort of girl who drifted through the halls, mostly undisturbed by the flirting, roughhousing, and stupid antics of the teens around her. He’d thought she was pretty but had never looked at her seriously. He wished he had. What a waste.

  The crowds didn’t begin to thin out until almost ten o’clock so by the time he closed, he was more than ready to go home. He looked forward to crashing in his bed and snoozing until his alarm woke him up at the unholy hour of five in the morning. But before he went, he wanted to do one thing.

  Taking a few of his last samples with him, Mason locked his shop and walked over to Sugar Lips. The front lights were out, but he could see that some were still on in the back. Maybe he should have gone around to her other door. Shrugging, he tried knocking anyway. He only had to wait a few seconds before Ruth came out to check and see who it was.

  She walked through the dim storefront and unlocked the door. “I’m afraid I’m closed, sir.”

  Mason was surprised by the teasing note in her voice. “Oh? That must be why you had the lights turned off.”

  Ruth chuckled. “Come in. I was just about to take the trash out and go home.”

  Mason glanced at her cookies, but the lights in the display cases were off. He’d have to come back and check them out later. He held out the little paper cups in his hand. “I brought you some samples to try.”

  “Trying to drum up more business?”

  “No. I’m just an artist wanting to impress a beautiful woman.” She looked up at him for a moment as if she was confused, so he urged her on. “Don’t leave me hanging.”

  With a cute little shrug, she reached out and took one. “Thank you.”

  “Let it rest on your tongue for a few seconds before you start eating it. That will bring up the temperature and give your taste buds time to savor it—especially since they’re a little on the cold side right now.”

  While Ruth did as he suggested, he let his eyes linger on her face again. He couldn’t help it.

  She looked up at him then, and though her brown eyes were almost black in the poor light, he didn’t miss the flash of surprise and pleasure in them. “This is amazing. Definitely not Hershey’s chocolate.”

  Mason chuckled. “Most assuredly not.”

  “The hint of orange is nice—but there’s something else there I can’t quite make out.”

  “Ginger.”

  Ruth nodded. “Yes, that’s what it is. Impressive. It’s complex but still delicate. And just the right amount of sweetness.”

  He wanted to grab her and spin her in circles but restrained himself. “That is the best compliment I’ve gotten all night.”

  “I have a hard time believing a jock like you made these.”

  Mason clenched his jaw at the faint mockery in her voice. “Okay, so what? You thought I was only capable of throwing a ball around?”

  “That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry. I’m just curious how you got into this. Being a chocolatier is a big change from pro basketball.”

  Nodding, he tried to tamp down his hurt feelings. He put the other two samples down on her display case and said, “It was a big change. Sometimes I’m not quite sure how I got here myself. But I promise I’ve put in my time. Culinary school, apprenticeships, and two years working under master chocolatiers in Zurich.”

  “Mason, I really am sorry. I didn’t know calling you a jock would offend you.”

  He shrugged. “It’s clear what you thought of me in high school, but a long time has passed since then. Maybe you should figure out who I am now.”

  He nodded goodnight and left, careful to shut the door softly behind him so he wouldn’t look like a baby throwing a temper tantrum.

  But annoyance and hurt still coursed through him. He wasn’t even sure why. Maybe it was just the stress of wondering himself if he was ready for this. He suspected though that it had more to do with wanting the lovely Ruth Haynes to think well of him.

  Chapter Three

  After obviously offending Mason, Ruth went home and took a hard look in her mirror—quite literally. It’s an uncomfortable thing to stare at your familiar face while you’re brushing your teeth and not be sure who you are. Surely she could let the past go and not let it influence the way she treated Mason in the future.

  It was as if seeing him again, the grown-up version of him, had stirred up feelings she’d buried deep inside—like her insecurities about the way she looked and the fear that no one would ever find her attractive. She knew such worries were irrelevant to reaching her goals. In fact, being in a relationship would only take away time and focus from making her business successful. So why had she responded to Mason the way she had?

  If she was going to survive being his neighbor on Main Street, she was going to have to get rid of this stupid notion that she wasn’t worthy of him—an unfortunate remnant from high school. And she definitely needed to repress all the snark and prickly bad humor that came with it.

  Most of all, she needed to apologize.

  So, the next morning when the alarm went off, she had an easier time getting up than usual. A sense of urgency to make everything right with Mason made her anxious to get going. If she rushed through her morning baking and decorating, she could probably find a few minutes before she opened to go across and talk to him. She opened at nine o’clock, so she had almost four hours to make her move.

  Baking cookies had become routine. She’d created her recipe herself over years of careful experimentation. Her signature cookie fell somewhere between a traditional, soft sugar cookie and a rich, dense shortbread. It required a lot of butter so her first step every morning was to get the butter out to soften. She had to watch it carefully to get it to the perfect temperature.

  With the butter on the counter, she went around the kitchen turning on lights, switching on the ovens to preheat, and going over her a plan for what cookies she needed to bake that day. Ready to work, she tied on her apron and focused on mixing up the first batch of dough.

 
At eight o’clock, the last pan of cookies came out of the oven. As much as Ruth loved her cookies with icing or frosting on them, she thought they were at their best fresh out of the oven. She hoped Mason would love them too. Grabbing a small cookie box, she stacked three of the star-shaped cookies inside and went around to Mason’s back door. It only took a minute before he opened the door.

  “Hello,” he said, sounding surprised but not displeased. “Come in.”

  Thinking that things were off to a better start than she’d hoped, she stepped into his kitchen space and looked around. The heavy scent of warm chocolate hit her immediately. A quick glance around the room was enough to see that while they had some of the same equipment, such as commercial mixers, drying racks, and industrial shelves full of tools and ingredients, Mason’s kitchen was much different than hers. She longed to go all over the room and ask questions. Instead, she held out the box of cookies.

  “I wanted to apologize for last night. I was a brat and I’m sorry. I’m hoping a few sugar cookies fresh out of the oven might be an acceptable peace offering.”

  Mason smiled and reached for the box. “Most definitely they would. I haven’t had breakfast.” He opened the box and took out a cookie. “It’s heavy.” Then he lifted it to his nose and breathed in the scent wafting off it. “Almond. And vanilla. Nice.”

  When he finally took a bite, Ruth nearly laughed as his expression shifted from surprise to sublime enjoyment. “Most of my customers love the almond,” she said. “I offer custom orders in other flavors, but this is easily the most popular.”

  “I can see why. Not only is it amazing, but it’s different than other cookies I’ve had before.”

  Ruth had a hard time accepting compliments but she managed to smile and say, “Thank you. So, do you forgive me?”

  Mason leaned up against the counter and shook the cookie at her. “I’d forgive you for a lot worse than thinking I was a dumb jock for cookies like this.”

  “I hope I don’t ever have to test that statement out.” With her task completed, she shifted toward the door. Before she left though, she added, “I’m determined that we’re going to get along from now on.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Mason said, following after her. “Do you have to go already? I’m about to take some chocolate out of molds if you want to stay and watch. It’s one of my favorite things to do.”

  Ruth was tempted, and not just by how interested she was in his work. “I’d love to, really, but I’ve already stayed longer than I meant to with the store opening in an hour.”

  He helped her open the door and leaned against it. “Later then? I hope?”

  She looked back up at him after she went down the two steps to the street. “Yes. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other whether we try to or not.”

  “Well, I for one will be trying.”

  Her heart beat like mad when he said those words, especially since it was accompanied by a meaningful sparkle in his eyes. Unfortunately, she didn’t know how on earth to respond so she hurried inside and got back to work.

  ***

  Thanksgiving was one of the only times Ruth was able to take off work besides Sundays when she closed down her shop. On the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, she discounted her Thanksgiving cookies because she hadn’t had much business, but the cases were still full when it was time to close.

  As soon as she’d locked the front door, Crystal gave a gusty sighed and visibly sagged in relief. “I’m so ready to get home and put my feet up.”

  Ruth nodded in weary agreement. “Somehow I’ve got to find the energy to make a dessert to take to my sister’s house tomorrow. But my shoulders are aching as usual and my right arm is sore from piping all day, so—”

  “Um, you do remember that you own a cookie shop, right? Just fill up a box.”

  Ruth looked around, tempted. “Wouldn’t that be cheating?”

  Crystal’s eyebrows went up. “No. You still made these and everyone loves them.” She turned and picked up one of their largest cookie boxes. “How many do you need?”

  “Two dozen should do it. And I do hate to see them wasted.”

  No doubt Crystal heard the worry in her voice. “Things will pick up. You’ll see. Everyone is just excited to try out the new place. And maybe he’ll bring new customers this way who will have to stop in and check out what the adorable cookie shop next to him has to offer.”

  Ruth smiled at her. “You’re a fountain of optimism, as usual. Thanks.”

  But even though Ruth tried to take her advice and cheer up, she’d felt a constant tension all day from stress. She felt so powerless since she couldn’t make customers come in and buy things.

  No, Crystal could be optimistic because she hadn’t seen the bad sales numbers for the day. Ruth had.

  Putting on a plastic glove, she helped fill the box with cookies. Pumpkins, acorns, and cornucopias made up most of the selection, but she threw in a few Christmas trees, reindeers, and stockings as well. When she had what she needed, she grabbed another box for Crystal. “Your turn.”

  “Oh no, I couldn’t.”

  “Yes, you can. Consider it a Thanksgiving bonus.”

  Crystal smiled and took the box. “Okay, fine. If you insist. I’ve been wanting one of these snowman cookies all day.” She pulled one out of the case and bit off his black top hat.

  Ruth chuckled. “I’m surprised you aren’t sick of eating cookies.”

  “Never.”

  It took a few minutes before they got the shop cleaned up and shut down for the holiday. As they walked out the back door together, she caught herself looking toward Mason’s door and tried to squash the automatic nerves that came from hoping he would come out at the same time. It happened sometimes. But the man seemed to work even crazier hours than she did.

  She hated the way she felt a surge of excitement every time she did see him though. And why did she feel so frustrated when she didn’t? But more than anything else, she wanted to slap herself for stressing over how she looked now. For the last week or more, she’d only worn dark t-shirts because they were more slenderizing and put on mascara every morning even though she didn’t have time for any more makeup than that.

  Seriously, she needed to chill the heck out.

  Her parking spot was only about ten yards away, which she appreciated on a cold night like this. As she put the box of cookies on the front passenger seat of her car and tried to brace it with her purse so it wouldn’t go flying off if she came to a quick stop, Crystal drove past her and waved. As she straightened to wave back, she saw Mason coming out of his shop. When he saw her, he smiled and walked toward her even though his car was parked in the other direction.

  “Looking forward to a day off?” he asked. “I know I am.”

  “Definitely. If nothing else, maybe I can get my shoulders to relax.”

  Mason reached back to rub his neck. “Oh man. The way we suffer for our art, huh?’

  Ruth studied him as she closed her passenger door. Walking around the car, she said, “I’m glad you call it art. I see it that way too.”

  “Absolutely. I went on your website the other day. Your portfolio gallery is incredible. I sat scrolling through your photos for almost an hour. Not only are your piping skills incredible, but some of your cookies are mini masterpieces.”

  Ruth looked down at the pavement, unable to meet his eyes when she was grinning like an idiot. He liked her work. “Well, a lot of those are just me playing around. They’re one of a kind designs. There’s no way I’d make those to sell because they take way too much time to be cost-effective, but it gets me a lot of follows on social media. Plus, I get a lot of custom orders by posting them too.”

  With an expression that was now all business, Mason crossed his arms. “Really? Interesting.”

  “It’s great,” she said, comfortable with the conversation again. “Nearly half of my revenue is from special event orders like birthday parties and baby showers.”

  “How do you find the time
to do that on top of stocking your store?”

  “Luckily, I have Crystal to help. I’d be in trouble without her. She takes care of all the cookies decorated with buttercream and she even helps with the simple iced cookies. But all the custom work is mine, and I love it. In fact, I would go crazy if I didn’t have an artistic challenge or two every week.”

  Mason nodded. “I need to hire an apprentice who can help me with the chocolate. I hired someone today to work out front though. That seemed like a priority since I mostly just need more time in the kitchen. I’m having a hard time keeping up with sales.”

  Ruth winced internally but forced herself not to show her stress over the difference in business they were getting. “I’ve noticed you have a ton of customers.”

  His lips twisted to the side in a grimace. “Yeah, but they’re mostly only buying the cheaper chocolates. I still haven’t figured out how to tap into the higher-end market.”

  Ruth realized that even though they were standing in a brisk wind, she wasn’t bothered by the cold. They were only chatting about business, but somehow, she felt buzzy and energized and terribly, massively, attracted to Mason.

  While she was still stressed about him taking her customers, she also wanted to help him. Which was why she heard herself say, “I found those customers by catering at the Candy Cane Ball.”

  “Really? What’s that?”

  Already she was kicking herself. Shut up, shut up, shut up, Ruth! “Oh, just this charity ball that happens every year the day before Christmas Eve. You should find similar events. All the people with money in this town go to those things.” There. She hadn’t suggested he submit a bid for the ball.

  That would have been disastrous. She knew how much Sharon Windover, the organizer of the event, liked to try new things. Just last year she’d hired an amazing but unknown decorator even though the same designer had been used for years before that.

  “Thanks,” Mason said. “It’s really generous advice.”

  “Well, you know…” She let her words trail away, unsure how to respond.

  “So, I’ll see you Friday morning?”