The Christmas Crush

Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

The entire drive back from New Hope, Elena fumed, replaying their arguments a thousand times, coming up with a million cutting remarks she could’ve used to subdue him. She almost missed her exit, she’d been so preoccupied by her ongoing imaginary verbal battle with Lawrence.

And she couldn’t stop fuming, because now more than thirty-six hours had passed and it still dominated her thoughts. She found herself blocking the register in the coffee shop, giving Mel an unsolicited, detailed description of the fight. A bean grinder’s rattling whir interrupted her, but she picked up without missing a beat the second it stopped.

“Is he attractive? I mean, yes. But I’m not even sure guys built like Michelangelo’s David are my type. Obviously, they’re, like, everyone’s type. People have been gawking at that statue for five hundred plus years for a reason. What difference does it make even if he is my type?

“I told Derick I made some good inroads—which I did—but there’s still work to be done there. All thanks to Lawrence Higgins and his little passion project. I’m not the least bit worried about their mayor reviewing our business license. Legal handles that and they never screw up.

“Anyway, to answer your question, yes, he is very good-looking. You did ask, right? And he might be pretty nice under different circumstances.” She squeezed her glove in her pocket, a habit she’d recently developed. “But, as I said, these aren’t different circumstances, and I’m just giving you all this information so we can figure out how to destroy him.”

A hand tapped her shoulder in sharp beats. “Lady, are you going to order or what?”

Mel raised a finger to silence the customer in line behind Elena. Elena glanced over her shoulder, gave the man a half smile in apology. He didn’t return it.

There was actually quite a long line in the caf é , which made sense, given it was seven in the morning on a workday. Voices hummed around her. A woman with a baby in a stroller tapped her watch pointedly, glaring at Elena. “Let her finish, okay?” Mel said, voice raised to be heard above the disgruntled din. She shook her head and whispered, “People are in too much of a rush these days.”

Elena held out her travel jug. “In sum, it doesn’t matter who he is as a person. Or what he looks like. He’s an obstacle.”

Mel tipped her head to the espresso machine, and Elena stepped out of line. The waiting customers didn’t cheer, but Elena sensed they wanted to, their relief swelling. Another barista appeared at the register while Mel pulled the espresso shots. “Even I have to admit it would be hard keeping a cool head around a dude who looks like he was carved out of marble by a master sculptor. And I don’t find men attractive period.”

“See, Mel, I knew you’d get where I was coming from. It’s a problem to be solved, and I can solve it.” Vosses are bosses , Elena thought, squeezing the glove again. She had to stop doing that. With each squeeze, she pictured Lawrence holding the glove.

She held out both hands for her travel jug. Mel smiled at Elena’s paint-stained fingernails. She’d done her best to clean off last night’s colors. Hopefully, Derick wouldn’t notice. “Looks like you’ve been using a lot of blue. What are you working on?” Mel asked.

“Nothing,” Elena said too quickly.

Mel smirked. She pulled a lever to aerate the milk, a hiss of steam rising around her bemused face. She returned Elena’s mug after mixing the ingredients. “And what color are this obstacle’s eyes, by the way?”

Elena took a long sip of the steaming-hot drink. A river of super-sweet coffee rushed over her taste buds. She swallowed. “I haven’t the least idea.”

“Sure.” Mel wiped her hands on her apron.

It wasn’t Elena’s fault Lawrence had an inspiring eye color. And she hadn’t been painting his eyes like an obsessed stalker. They happened to remind her of the color cyan, that perfect mix of blue and green. She’d needed to replicate it in the tropical water of a seascape she’d started last month and almost scrapped because she couldn’t find the right hue.

It didn’t mean anything. She found inspiration in all sorts of random places. Once, she’d spent weeks mixing colors to match a patch of rust she’d seen on a broken-down car. She didn’t find the car attractive.

“Okay, Elena. In the meantime, stare a little to the right of his face so he thinks you’re looking at him but you’re not. To protect yourself from the glare of his beauty.”

Elena playfully rolled her eyes. “Solid tip. I’ll be fine, though. I’m concocting a strategy as we speak.”

“Enough speaking,” Mel’s coworker barked. “We just got twenty-one mobile orders!”

“I better go back to the register before these people riot,” Mel said. Elena thanked her and departed the caf é for work.

Today it didn’t bother her as much that no one had time to say hello. She rushed to her cubicle, tossing her coat on the desk and then powering on her computer. She needed to find another opportunity to visit New Hope. Opinions on New Hope’s village social media page and recent comments under Sparkle Cookie posts weren’t terrible, but they weren’t great either. She had to do a better job of convincing them Sparkle would benefit the town.

When the screen lit up, she got to work, searching for a way to persuade or downright bribe the residents of New Hope. She sent an email to the New Hope village secretary asking if Sparkle could get a table at an upcoming holiday craft fair. That could work. If she handed out samples of their top-selling cookies, she could rope in potential customers by the bucketful.

The event would be held in the high school gym. Elena felt certain she could wow them with a flashy display. Maybe freebies besides cookies as well. Lavender key chains with the Sparkle logo or lavender pens with cookie-scented ink. She knew the supply closet was well stocked with options she had helped design.

Her intense focus on a document proposing the plan for the fair caused her to jump at the sound of her message alert piercing the mostly silent office. The village secretary had already replied.

Dear Ms. Voss,

Thank you for your interest. However—

Uh-oh. This didn’t sound good. Her heart sank as she read on.

—due to the extreme popularity of the event, we are already fully booked. Vendors interested in next year’s fair are encouraged to submit applications by August 31.

Had Higgins gotten to the village secretary, telling her to block any cookie competition? She wouldn’t put it past him, but maybe the event really was that popular. She rubbed her temples, then went back to searching for another way to bring cookies to New Hope. The New Hope Public Library website listed a holiday open house on their events calendar. Elena loathed cold calling, yet it seemed to be the best option for offering to bring cookies.

She didn’t have to be nervous. Who would turn down free cookies?

Her heart thumped twice as fast as the rings on the other end as she waited to be connected to the library. She had to channel her dad’s self-assured tone three times before she got transferred to someone who could actually make a decision.

“Business office,” a no-nonsense voice said after picking up on the first ring.

“Hi, my name is Elena Voss, I work for Sparkle Cookie, and we would like to offer a sampling of free cookies for the library to serve at the holiday open house.”

“Thanks, but we have a local guy who handles the treats. Have a nice day.”

Click.

Higgins. Who else? He had a cookie monopoly on the town of New Hope. Too bad for him she had the zeal of an antitrust legislator and would break his hold no matter what it took.

Time to switch tactics. She widened her search range to surrounding towns, sipping her coffee as she scrolled results. Sugar and caffeine coursed through her veins, heightening her sense of urgency. Her foot tapped a constant rhythm against the desk, her leg bouncing along.

Home Baker’s Quarterly , a regional magazine, advertised a cookie swap at an inn ten minutes outside New Hope. Fingers metaphorically crossed, since her hands were busy, she checked to see if she’d missed the registration deadline for this option too. She closed her eyes for a second before plucking up the courage to read the details.

You can never have too many cookies! Join us at the picturesque Snowcap Inn to trade your best holiday baked goods with friends and neighbors. Simply bring five dozen of a single flavor of cookies to swap. Participants receive a commemorative mug. All are welcome, hot cocoa bar provided.

Elena clapped her hands in delight.

“We don’t clap in here, Voss. It’s not part of our corporate culture,” Derick said, appearing out of nowhere to hover by her desk. “Pretty wishy-washy results from your incursion into New Hope. I expected more.”

Incursion? Was this a hostile cookie takeover? Derick had a talent for making even the most innocent things aggressive. Not that she minded a bit of aggression when it came to proving Lawrence wrong. She swiveled her chair to avoid the odor of Derick’s s too-strong cologne.

“Cookie swap?” he asked, staring at her computer screen. “What’s the point of that?”

Now was one of the times her dad’s instructions came in handy. She didn’t squeak at all when she answered Derick. “To both increase goodwill in the New Hope area and create word-of-mouth buzz for our cookie creations. You can expect to see a thirty-five percent improvement in New Hope attitudes to Sparkle Cookie with this approach.”

Total nonsense; she didn’t know where she’d come up with that bogus number. Could an attitude be measured in percents? Perhaps with a formal poll? An idea sprang to mind. “I’ll be handing out surveys with our cookies to gauge reactions to our samples.”

“Now you want me to give you freebies?” Derick looked down his too-straight nose at her. She suspected no actual human could have such precise, cold features. Either he’d had cosmetic surgery or he was really an android.

“We gave samples away at that music festival over the summer, and Sparkle Cookie shops within a twenty-five-mile radius reported a nine percent jump in sales.” That fact was true, though she couldn’t believe she’d remembered it. A kernel of knowledge from some cramped spreadsheet or colorless slide months ago that stuck in her subconscious.

“You’re going to get me fifteen percent. I want the New Hope location to post our biggest opening yet. It’s the holidays, people want cookies. This is easy stuff, Voss. If you can’t do it, someone else will.” He walked away without giving her a chance to respond.

She took a deep breath when he disappeared from view. Derick’s demands and too much coffee left her shaking all over. I can do this; I can make this successful. The odds were against her that the cookie monster, Lawrence Higgins, would skip out on a cookie event practically in his backyard.

Attempting to summon the confidence she’d had after talking to Mel, she promised herself Lawrence wouldn’t throw her off her game a second time. A whole workweek to prepare would be more than enough to show New Hope her cookies were as good as their hometown boy’s.

And if not? No, she couldn’t think that way. Victory only.