Katie was over at her friend Emma’s house for the day, which meant with the lull in customers, Imogen had the rare treat of a little time just to herself. She loved having Katie with her at the shop, Katie’s love of learning everything her mother did and charming the customers never failed to bring a smile to her face, but a little quiet was very welcome. This time of year, especially.
With the store still quiet, she stepped into the back for a moment. The room served as part office, part break room, with a mini-fridge tucked into one corner and a short countertop with a Keurig and microwave. There was a folding table with two chairs along the center of one wall, and on the other side was her desk and laptop with a stack of mail that she had yet to go through.
It had been accumulating on her desk for the better part of a week. Between the holiday rush, Katie’s end-of-semester school activities, and trying to keep up with all of the holiday things that Katie wanted to do as well as take care of normal day-to-day life, she’d let the mail get away from her.
With no immediate tasks demanding her attention, Imogen decided this was the perfect opportunity to tackle it. She set her coffee mug under the Keurig for a second cup, popping a pod of maple coffee into the coffeemaker, and got out the spiced creamer as she started thumbing through the mail.
It was mostly what she’d expected: utility bills, a catalog from a new packaging supplier, a reminder about renewing her business license, and several pieces of promotional materials that would go straight into the recycling bin. Mostly junk, although she set aside a flyer from the local pizza place with several deals on it that she’d definitely take advantage of for one of the movie nights Katie loved having at home so much.
Then, she saw a letter that startled her enough to make her stop entirely for a full few seconds.
There was an envelope fromSweet Confectionsmagazine. Not a promotion for anything or regular junk mail, but an envelope addressed toher. She stared at it for a long moment, wondering what they could possibly want.
She’d been subscribed to their magazine for as long as she could remember. She loved the recipes, the new techniques, the features of shops that she’d dreamed of emulating before Artisan Chocolates had ever been a reality, reading about candy-makers from all over and interesting flavors and techniques from other cities and countries. No one else really got why she was so excited every month for the magazine, but it was her favorite thing to curl up and read with a cup of coffee or cocoa, a little slice of her own private heaven.
Carefully, she slit open the envelope and drew out a single sheet on the company’s letterhead.
Dear Ms. Sanders,
We’ve received several recommendations regarding your shop, Artisan Chocolates, and many testimonials from satisfied customers. We think your shop in particular highlights a special type of small-town American establishment that we’d love to feature in our spring issue.
Our magazine reaches over 200,000 readers nationwide, including industry professionals, serious chocolate enthusiasts, and potential customers who appreciate artisanal confectionery work. We believe your rustic charm and commitment to small-town quality would be of great interest to our readership.
If you are interested in this opportunity, please contact our editorial office at your earliest convenience to discuss the details of the feature. We’ll need to schedule interviews, as well as photo shoots and product sampling.
We look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
Annette Brown
Senior Editor, Sweet Confections
Imogen read the letter three times before the words fully sank in. Sweet Confectionsmagazine wanted to feature her shop. Her little chocolate shop in small-town Fir Tree Grove had caught the attention of a magazine with such a large readership, the most well-known publication in the baking and chocolatier world.
She’d never imagined something like this for even a second. As long as she’d been reading their magazine, she’d never even thought that one day she’d beeninit. It felt like a dream, one that couldn’t possibly have come true… but the letter was right in front of her.
Sweet Confectionswanted to interview her. Come visit her shop. Do aphoto shoot. She could imagine all of the possibilities that might spring from a feature like that. More people would come to visit her shop just from seeing it—it would be good for Fir Tree Grove as a whole too. Both she and the town she loved could benefit from this.
She leaped to her feet so quickly that her chair rolled backward and hit the wall with a soft thud. The kind of exposure thatSweet Confectionscould provide would be incredible. She could picture tourists making special trips to Fir Tree Grove just to visit her shop, orders flooding in from across the country, maybe even opportunities to expand or collaborate with other chocolatiers.
But even as excitement bubbled up inside her, a small voice in the back of her mind whispered caution. How soon would they want to do the shoot? Soon, she thought, most likely. Howwas she going to manage a feature shoot while running the shop during the busy holiday season? It was for the spring issue, so likely they’d want her to take down all the holiday decorations and redecorate as if it were spring, then change back. She’d certainly have to close the shop for a day or two. They’d also probably want spring-themed chocolate displays and special products to feature and photograph, things that wouldn’t sell for the holiday and that would have to be tossed after. And there were all of the other things that she needed to divide her attention among… holiday events and shopping and making the season as magical as she always tried to do for both her shop and her daughter.
How on earth was she going to balance this incredible opportunity with her responsibilities to Katie and her existing customers?
Imogen bit her lip, looking back down at the letter, and she tried to quiet the voice of reason. She didn’t want to listen to it. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and she didn’t want to let it go. But she couldn’t deny that it came with a lot of obstacles.
She needed to talk to someone who would understand. Who could help talk her through this and figure out how to make it work without letting anyone—including herself—down.
Vanessa would be able to help, she was sure of it. After all, her friend had a break-neck paced corporate job in California before she’d moved back to Fir Tree Grove. If anyone knew how to juggle this many things and make it all successful without failing miserably, it would be Vanessa—and Imogen knew her friend was always supportive. She’d see instantly how big of an opportunity this was and help Imogen come up with a game plan.
Imogen grabbed her coat and scarf from the hook by the door, flipped the sign to “Out To Lunch,” and practically flewout of the shop. The air outside was crisp and biting, turning her cheeks pink instantly, but she barely noticed as she hurried down Main Street toward The Snowdrift Diner.
It was around lunchtime, so she had a feeling Vanessa might be at the diner having lunch with Jackson. Either that, or she’d still be at The Toy Chest, which would be Imogen’s second stop if she didn’t find Vanessa at lunch.
The moment Imogen stepped into the diner, she breathed in and smelled the delicious scents of home-cooked pumpkin chili and rich tomato soup, along with a variety of other meaty, spicy smells that instantly made her hungry. The diner was the perfect place to grab lunch, homey and welcoming, with the old-fashioned checkered floors, red vinyl booths, and u-shaped counter with barstools that made it the epitome of a smalltown diner.
The large windows looked out on the festive Main Street displays, and the diner itself was decorated with all kinds of Fir Tree Grove nostalgia, including historical photos and newspaper clippings. They always made Imogen smile—Katie loved rattling off facts she’d learned from them while she and her mother had lunch at the diner.
