As they passed the opening separating the kitchen from the café, Claire groped for the light switch. Several lights hanging from the high ceiling shed light on the empty space.
At night, with no one in the café but the two of them, the space seemed strangely empty, and the emptiness made it seem more intimate. Claire led him past the display case, dotted with the remnants of the day’s baked goods, and toward the door.
She gestured to the front space. “What do you see?”
For some reason, he suspected it was a trick question. “Tables and chairs?”
“Good, but—” She walked forward, gesturing to the nearest table before turning to face him. “Don’t look at them individually. Look at them as a whole. Do you see the way I’ve placed them?”
“Along the window?”
She gestured to the tables farther back from the window, closer to the display case and aisle where customers presumably ordered. “The ones at the window draw customers inside, but there’s far too little space there. See how I’ve placed these tables diagonally from those along the window? It fills up the space but shouldn’t cause a problem when customers pull out a chair or leave it there when they’re finished. There’s still a wide enough aisle to walk through. It’s dark out, so you might not be able to see, but that’s what I’ve done on the sidewalk as well.”
“I remember.” He hadn’t thought anything of the checkerboard pattern of the tables then, but it seemed it had been deliberate. “That’s your secret?”
She laughed. “Partly. The other part is to make the tables inviting. You see how each table has a succulent?”
“A what?”
“The plant. It’s like a cactus, but these are less prickly. They don’t need a lot of water or take up a lot of space, but they help to make the table inviting. It’s more than a place to sit and eat. It’s a place to do the daily crossword or chat with friends. Each table has a holder with folded napkins and a themed bowl for creamer that matches the sugar dish. Yes, I paid a little extra to buy so many with seashells on the side, but I think it adds its own charm to the tables.”
“I don’t remember seeing any of this outside.”
Claire sighed. She rubbed the back of her neck. “It’s true. The wind tends to blow away the napkins, and I learned the hard way that if I keep a small potted plant on the tables, customers will walk away with them. So the tables outside are somewhat plain. I try to liven it up during tourist season with some large pots of flowers in between the tables.”
“I think you do a wonderful job.”
She met his gaze for a moment, almost shy. Then she turned all business, straightening her spine as if she hadn’t heard the compliment. “Is there anything else you need advice on?”
His smile turned chagrined. “It sounds as though I could use some decorating help. You’ve given me a lot to think about, though. After the grand opening, I’m going to give some thought to rearranging my store, but I don’t want to have a café like you have. I can’t compete with this, and why bother? If they want coffee, they can come over here, but I still want my place to look inviting like Sandcastles does.”
The look in her eyes softened, and he knew he’d said the right thing. Truly, he didn’t want to compete with her café. Ideas of how they could work together bubbled up, but he didn’t voice them, sensing that might be pushing things too far.
“Are you hungry? I have plenty of pastry left over.” Claire’s voice was tentative, as if she expected him to say no.As if.
Rob tried to act nonchalant. “Yeah, I’d like that. I’m starving.”
It took all of five minutes for Claire to choose some cupcakes from the case. She poured them each a coffee, carried it all on a tray to one of the tables, and gestured for him to sit. It still felt odd to be there after hours, but the cupcakes made it feel less like he was intruding.
Rob started in on his treat while Claire fiddled with the wrapper of hers. The cake was moist, the frosting creamy. “I can see why they’re a hit around here. These are amazing.”
Claire beamed as she pulled the wrapper from the cupcake. “Thank you.”
He took another bite, stealing a moment to really look at her. It was hard not to compare her to the girl he’d met on the beach that one summer. She’d changed, but of course so had he. For some reason, he was still drawn to her. Maybe it was her inner sparkle, like she was enjoying life to the fullest. Or maybe it was the shy way she tucked her hair behind her ear, or the way her nose wrinkled when she smiled. He’d been drawn into her orbit from the second they’d first met.
“So tell me, what made you decide to open a bakery?” Had they been so similar, even back then?
She held a hand in front of her mouth for a moment more as she finished chewing. “I always loved baking, and it turns out I’m pretty good at it.”
He winked. “No false modesty, I see.”
Color flooded her cheeks, and she looked away, deeper into the store. She pointed at a display case. He followed the gesture to find an elaborate cake shaped like a sandcastle. The sides and turrets were dusted with something white and pink that couldn’t possibly be sand, but from a distance, it had a similar appearance. The construction of the castle itself was no rudimentary boxed affair with crenellations. It had turrets and walls rising in tiers. It looked like something out of a historical film dusted in pink sugar.
“That’s my specialty. What sets me apart. I used to make cakes like that for my daughter’s birthday parties. She loved them, and so did her friends. I loved making them. Soon, neighbors were asking me to make cakes for them. When I got divorced, I needed to make a living.” Claire gestured to the store. “And what better way than to do something I love?”
Rob heard the pride in her voice and turned his attention back to her. “Wow, that’s impressive. How old is your daughter?”
“Twenty-two. She’s backpacking through Europe right now.”
