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“None of that has been proven by the FDA.” Deacon is on the other side of the table.
I point at him. “This is all on you, you know.”
“We just wrote it—”
“I know, you just wrote it down.” Turning the small bottle over, I read the ingredient label, which is very short. “I’m pretty sure this stuff is bee barf.”
“Can I get the special?” A small lady in a straw hat scoots up beside Deacon and holds out a ten.
“Of course!” I quickly grab tissue paper and one of the brown bags with a white Honey Farms sticker on the front.
I put two of the small votives and a stick of cinnamon honey in the bag and her ten in the metal money box.
“That’s good stuff.” I point to the stick. “You know you can get the economy size for seven dollars if you want it.”
The old lady’s face scrunches up as she thinks about my suggestion. “How much?”
“Seven dollars.”
“I’ll take it.” She passes me a ten, and I give her back three.
Once she’s gone, I wave the ten at Deacon and do a little jig. “I made my first sale!”
“You’re a natural.” Deacon digs in his pocket. “I want to try that cinnamon honey. It sounds good.”
“You should get the bundle for fourteen.” I hold up the two-pack, and he cocks a brow at me then hands me a twenty. “Woo hoo! I’m a natural born saleslady.”
“I’d give your mom credit for coming up with the idea. Sweet heat,” he reads from the label. “Interesting.”
“I’m sure her wealth advisor made it possible by writing it down on paper. Not typing on a computer screen.”
He shakes his head. “I’m heading to Dallas tomorrow. Anything you need me to tell William or take to him… for your business?”
“Not yet.” I reach below the table and pull out a few handfuls of the candles along with more honey sticks. When I look up, I see Deacon inspecting me. “What?”
“We wrote it down, but you still have to take the first step.”
“I know!” I give him a wa
ve. “I’ll start stepping. I’ve just got more important fish to fry right now.”
“A fish called Sawyer?”
“And the pageant tomorrow… I’m a busy lady.”
“Speaking of, I have something for you.” He hands over the small bag he’s holding. “Thought you should celebrate the creation of your plan.”
“For me?” I bat my eyes and move the tissue aside, pulling out a clear glass bottle of… “Teremana tequila, holy shit! How did you get this?”
“Wealth management has its perks.”
My eyes go round. “You met Dwayne Johnson?”
He laughs. “No, but I have a friend who works with Ken Austin, and he gave me a couple of promo packs.”
I turn the bottle in my hands. “It’s too nice to open.”
“Open it, and celebrate responsibly.” He takes the bag of honey and continues down the row. “See you tonight.”
