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Kate stood. “Nothing for me. I think I’m just going to head home. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
She paid for her coffee and headed for the door. This Christmas was not going like she’d hoped. But there was still time to turn it around.
Chapter Eight
Punctual.
That’s what his year-end evaluation always said.
Wednesday morning, Wes approached his temporary office in the Bayberry Candle Company at exactly eight o’clock. He didn’t intend to change up his routine just because he was on a business trip. An assistant vice president needed to lead by example. He couldn’t get distracted and bend the rules.
The offices buzzed with people. Most were enjoying their morning coffee and catching up with each other. He noticed that very few were at their desks.
He smiled and said good morning when he was spoken to, but he kept moving. There was work to be done. No wonder this company was in trouble, if this was the way business was normally conducted.
Wes sat down at his assigned desk and immediately opened his laptop to a partially filled spreadsheet. He normally grabbed a cup of coffee to sip on as he worked, but he decided he would wait until everyone had settled into their day before venturing to the coffeemaker in the breakroom. He didn’t want to get distracted with idle conversation.
He needed to get this job done. He thought of Chad at headquar
ters, impressing Mr. Summers as he worked on Wes’s hard-earned accounts. Wes’s jaw tightened. He had to stay focused and finish early.
An early completion would impress his boss. But would it be enough to get the promotion? He’d already priced senior living apartments for his mother, and the rent would take every bit of his promotion and then some, but he could make it work. And then he could visit his mother more than a few times a year.
He turned his thoughts to work and sorted through the hardcopy reports. It still surprised him that things hadn’t been digitalized. It seemed Bayberry was a few years behind the rest of the world. Wes also noticed that the factory relied heavily on human labor instead of automation. He wondered if it had something to do with the unreliability of the machines they currently used. He made a note of it. He’d do an analysis of how much it would cost to automate the candle-making process instead of relying on humans. And he’d figure out how long it would take to recoup the expense.
He had a sinking feeling that no matter how he worked the numbers, the results were going to reflect a need to sell the business. He wasn’t sure if one of the larger candle companies would want the actual facilities, but he knew the candle recipes and scents were worth money. Everyone in the New England area had heard of the Bayberry Candle Company. They even sold their candles in New York City during the holidays. He knew because he’d bought one for his mother last Christmas, as a nice nostalgic present. When his family had moved here, Bayberry residents had welcomed them, just as if they were their own. As a teenager, he’d made friends and been truly happy.
Something told him that Kate had no idea just how much trouble her family’s company was in at the moment. But it wasn’t his job to enlighten her. He was being paid to be discreet and present an evaluation to Kate’s aunt upon his departure.
“Good morning.”
He looked up from his laptop to find Kate standing in the doorway with a smile on her face. Wow. He remembered why he’d had a crush on her back in school. The corners of his lips lifted. When she smiled, the whole world glowed. That hadn’t changed either.
“Good morning to you too. Why are you in such a good mood?”
She shrugged. “It’s Wednesday. The week is half over. The sun is shining. I just had my first pumpkin spice latte of the year.”
“Your first? What took you so long?”
She shrugged. “I held out as long as I could. Everyone has her breaking point.”
“Where did you get your pumpkin spice latte?” he asked. “I might grab one at lunch.”
“As luck would have it, I have two.” She pulled a red to-go cup from behind her back. “And look at that, it has your name on it.”
When she handed it over, he saw that it did indeed have his name scrawled in black marker. He took a sip of the warm, rich brew. It had just the right amount of spice, combined with a healthy dose of cream. It was more delicious than the ones they made at his usual coffee shop on the way to the office. And he hadn’t thought anyone could top New York City lattes. He’d been wrong.
“Thank you.” He reached for his wallet. “How much do I owe you?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. It’s on me. Abby, my friend at the Steaming Brew, finally convinced me that it was time to switch over to the holiday flavors. If they didn’t have so many calories, I’d drink them all day, every day.”
He arched a brow. “Are you sure I can’t pay you back?”
“Positive.” Her gaze moved to the desk, which was littered with one binder after another. “Looks like I should get going so you can work.”
“Actually, I hate to ask you this after you were so kind as to bring me a latte, but could you help me find something? I spoke with Penney on the phone this morning and she won’t be in the office today. And, well, I don’t know who else to ask for help.”
Her phone dinged. She removed it from her back pocket. “Not a problem.” She read her phone and sent an answering text, then raised her gaze to his. “Sorry about that. It’s work stuff. Now, what do you need?”
