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Heart's Desire
“Yes. Thanks for remembering.”
“No one would forget you,” he said with an appreciative glimmer in his dark eyes.
“See you on the way out,” she said, and crossed the black granite floor to the bank of brass elevator doors. She pressed the up button and watched the numbers tracking the elevator’s descent.
Almost a dozen people walked out of the elevator when the doors opened. Maddie noticed, once again, that nearly everyone looked to be about her age; men and women handsomely dressed, smiling and chatting with one another about which restaurant in the area was best for lunch.
So very not Indian Lake.
Maddie got in the elevator and hit the button for the sixth floor.
When she stepped off the elevator, she was face-to-face with enormous, heavy glass doors etched with the Ashton and Marsh name and logo.
The reception area was decorated sparely, with modern Asian furniture and a few plants. The reception desk was a curved glass block, lit from the inside and topped with tortoiseshell granite.
“Hi,” Maddie said to the new receptionist, who hadn’t looked up from her computer screen when she’d walked in. “I have an appointment with Alex Perkins.”
The girl lifted her beautiful face, her scarlet lips covered in enough gloss to refract fluorescent light. “And you are?”
“Maddie Strong.”
The receptionist’s expression lit up. “You’re the cupcake lady!”
“Uh. Yes. I guess so.”
“I was so excited to meet you.” The girl practically jumped out of her chair to shake Maddie’s hand. “I love your concept. Alex, I mean Mr. Perkins, let us taste the cupcakes you sent. They were to die for! I’ve never had anything so...decadent,” she practically squealed.
“I’m glad you liked them.”
“I loved them! We all did. Oh, gosh. So sorry. I’ll let Alex’s assistant know you’re here.” She tapped her earpiece. “Sean. Miss Strong is here to see Mr. Perkins.” She nodded several times, still looking at Maddie as if she’d just seen her first Christmas. “Sean will be right out. Alex is finishing up a call. It won’t be long. Would you like a water or some tea? We have a nice variety. Hot or cold?”
“Water is just fine,” Maddie replied as she glanced around for a comfortable chair. She spotted an angular S chair next to a gold pot that held six-foot-high bamboo.
Maddie sat down, and though there was a smattering of financial magazines and newspapers laid out in painfully neat rows on the glass coffee table, she was too nervous to read anything. Not only had Alex implied that a bona fide investor might be in her future, but there was the matter of his ostentatious Valentine’s flowers and his text to her last night: Can’t wait to see you.
What did that mean, exactly?
The receptionist came back, her high-heeled boots clomping on the wood floor, and handed Maddie a chilled bottle of water. “My name’s Mia, by the way. Julie left two weeks ago.” Mia leaned close. “Pregnant.” With a toss of her hair, she twirled away gleefully, as if she’d just won the lottery.
Just then, a thin man in his early twenties nearly pounced into the reception area from the long hallway leading to the offices. “Miss Strong? Mr. Perkins will see you now.” He looked down at her water and briefcase. “Can I take any of that for you?”
“I’m fine,” Maddie replied, hoisting her purse strap onto her shoulder and following Sean.
“So nice to see you again,” Sean babbled. “You do know we all just adore your cupcakes. Just yummy,” he said. “I can’t eat too many sweets, you know. Bad for the waistline, and God forbid I’d develop diabetes or something.”
They arrived at Alex’s enormous corner office with a window that peeked through to a narrow view of the Chicago River. “Thank you, Sean,” she said.
“Ciao,” Sean chirped and whisked himself away.
Alex rose from his desk. “Maddie! You look terrific.” He walked around his desk and took her hand, leading her to a chair opposite his. “Please, sit. Thanks for meeting me at the office. I had some calls to New York and I just couldn’t put them off any longer. I’ve been swamped since I got back.”
“Understandable,” she said. “This is fine.”
“Actually, it’s not.”
“No?”
“Is Bandera okay with you?”
“Uh,” she stammered, not understanding what he was talking about.
“I mean, we could go to a sushi bar if you like. Or Thai? There’s a great Thai restaurant...”
Maddie giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. “Bandera is a restaurant.”
“Yeah. American food. That okay?”
“Sure. I’ve never been there.”
“Oh. Right. Sure.” His expression became serious. “I guess I should tell you right off the bat I found you an angel.”
Maddie’s eyes widened. “For real? But I haven’t even shown you my new concept drawings for the café interiors. My friend, Sarah Jensen, did them for me.” Maddie dug into the leather briefcase that Mrs. Beabots had loaned her and pulled out the professionally bound report that she and Sarah had prepared. “I was thinking that because I sell so much cappuccino and espresso, we could do an Italian theme, you know, with yellow-and-white awnings out front, Italian chairs and stools, and of course, brass-and-copper espresso machines as the focal point—”
“We can get to that in a bit,” Alex interrupted, glancing at his watch. “I ordered a car to take us to the restaurant. Let’s get a jump on things and head out. You bring your drawings and let’s see.” He picked up several manila folders.
Maddie rose and Alex followed her out of the office. He stopped for a moment at Sean’s desk.
“I’m on my cell if Quinton needs me. If that Dubai call comes through, patch them over to my cell. We’ll be at Bandera. Hold any other calls.”
“Yes, sir,” Sean said. He shot a wink at Maddie and gave her two thumbs-up.
They rode the elevator in silence as Alex texted someone. Once out on the street, he pointed to a black Lincoln Town Car parked in a no parking zone.
“This is it,” Alex said, rushing to get the door for Maddie.
She climbed in and Alex got into the backseat with her.
“It’s only a few blocks to Bandera, but they kept saying it was going to rain today and I didn’t want us to get caught in a downpour.”
“Thank you for thinking of that,” Maddie replied, realizing she hadn’t checked the weather forecast in days. Only the worst snow blizzards kept her customers away. On most rainy days, the café was packed. It was Maddie’s theory that people liked to “huddle” on dreary days, looking for energy from others to give them a boost...along with the sugar and caffeine she offered. She hoped Chloe was doing all right with only a few hours’ help from Sarah’s aunt Emily, who had volunteered to work part of the day so that Maddie could come to this meeting.
Emily explained that George, her husband, was quite excited about the prospect of Alex and his company putting together a franchise for Maddie. Emily also wanted to do her part in giving Maddie a shot at her dream.
They pulled up to the restaurant and Maddie got out. Alex gave the driver some instructions and then followed her into the restaurant. The hostess led them to a booth. Soft lighting emanated from linen-covered chrome cylinders on the walls and tables. Overhead was a dark wood ceiling from which were suspended flat, oval-shaped paper lanterns that reminded Maddie of flying saucers. There was an open kitchen where the patrons could watch the cooks preparing the meals.
The smell of garlic, onion, beef, chicken and shrimp were laced with the smoky, woodsy aroma of the open-pit grill where trout and other seafood were mesquite grilled.
Alex and Maddie sat opposite each other in the booth. After the waiter took their drink and appetizer orders, Alex said, “I didn’t mean to rush you out of the office, but I worked till after ten last night, didn’t have any supper except for a stale half a bagel someone left in the break room, and I am starving.”
“I can understand why,” she replied.
“Besides, I had those two calls coming in and they could wind up taking all our lunch hour. And I really didn’t want that to happen. So,” he said, searching her face with his blue eyes. “Gosh, you look great.”
Maddie smiled, tilted her head and then peered at him from the corner of her eye. “You’re flattering me a lot, Alex. Is this because I’m about to be rich?”
Alex laughed, then covered his mouth with his napkin. “I hate to burst your bubble, but this is just the beginning of a long trip.”
“Rich is a relative term, is it not?” she asked.
“True. But do you know what the best part is?”
“What?”
“We’ll be making the journey together. I’ll be there every step of the way. At least for most of them.”
“I need a professional to guide me,” she said.
“I, er...was hoping for a bit more than that.” Alex stared at his silverware, then lifted his head and shot her a purposeful look.
Responding to the intensity in his eyes, she asked, “What do you want, Alex?”
“A date.”
“This could be a date,” she observed, noting the chic businesswomen and -men in the booths near them.
“This? Nah. This is steak and business. I was thinking more like escargots, truffles and champagne in a really nice joint.”
Maddie was surprised, though she shouldn’t have been. Alex wasn’t just flirting with her, and wasn’t just interested in her as a client. He wanted a romance. But did she? The idea instantly filled her with trepidation.
Alex glanced at her hand, which was trembling. “Okay. Forget the escargots. Let’s stick to business for the time being.”
Maddie exhaled. She couldn’t imagine what was wrong with her. Here was a perfectly formed dreamboat—every girl’s ideal—and she was refusing his offer. She must have lost her mind. Maddie had to move her hands to her lap and clamp them together to keep from shaking.
What is the matter with me?
Just then, the waiter brought the chips and spinach dip Alex had asked for. Maddie smiled at the waiter. Alex kept his eyes on Maddie, observing her every move.
“Let me see these drawings you have,” he said. He took huge gulps of iced tea and wolfed down the first few chips as if he truly hadn’t eaten much in days.
Maddie reached into the briefcase and withdrew the bound folder. “Do you often work such long hours? No dinner and all that?”
“Absolutely. Especially when I’m obsessed with hitting my project out of the park. In this case, that would be you,” he said, glancing at her seductively.
Maddie only blinked.
He dropped his eyes and wiped his hands on his napkin. He took the folder from Maddie. “It’s my bet you’re no stranger to long hours.”
“A lot of nights it’s midnight or later by the time I get home. Business has been picking up.”
“Looks like it. Or maybe you just haven’t done the necessary hiring,” he said critically, but then softened his face with a sincere smile.
“It’s hard to find good people,” Maddie retorted. She watched him slowly go through the drawings. He stayed silent and didn’t look at her. Maddie realized that Alex was truly unnerved by her rejection. Despite the fact that he’d sent her flowers, she hadn’t been prepared for a personal discussion about “them” today. She certainly hadn’t thought about a relationship, either. Maddie didn’t have time for love...or so she’d told herself for the eleven years since Nate Barzonni abandoned her for no reason at all. She invested her energy and emotion into her business.
She wanted to achieve her dream. All of it. For years she’d told her herself that all she needed in life was to reach her goal of franchising her business. Romance was for other women. Maybe she’d find love one day, but Maddie couldn’t allow it to get in the way of her success.
“It’s a matter of trust, Maddie,” Alex said, his stern voice piercing the Kevlar vest of excuses Maddie wore around her heart.
“Trust?”
“The real reason you haven’t hired someone to do the night work is because then they would know your recipes. You don’t want anyone to steal them because in the recipes lies one of the secrets to your business.”
Maddie stopped midmotion as she took a sip of her tea. “That is the reason I haven’t hired anyone but Chloe, and she just works days. At the counter, selling.”
“My point.”
“How would you know that?”
“I know business, and I know your business—what you’re doing and not doing.”
Alex polished off the last of the chips, wiped his hands and sat back, putting an arm on the top of the banquette. “From what I can tell, you’ve always seen your business as a small-town, small-time operation. It makes enough to cover your overhead and pay for you to live. Deep down, you’re scared someone will steal your recipes. So, you trademarked them along with your iced-on-the-spot concept, and you don’t let anyone have access to the recipes themselves. That’s good. But not good enough. Once you franchise, all your ‘partners,’ we’ll call them, will sign nondisclosures. The employees they hire will sign iron-clad nondisclosures as well. If they leave and steal a recipe, we sue. We can garnishee their wages, put a lien on their house or car.”
“You can do that?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s done all the time, and has been done for a hundred years, especially in R & D departments in big corporations. You own your idea. No one has come up with this one in quite the way you have. I’m not the only one who thinks so.”
“There are others?” She urged him on.
“Quinton Marsh thinks so, and he runs the company. You saw the excitement from my staff. They love your cupcakes.”
“So, it’s the cupcakes that are different.”
“And the way you sell them...made to order. Brilliant.”
Maddie noticed that he grew more excited with every breath he took and every word he spoke. He gestured when making a point and his face beamed with enthusiasm. Maddie realized that Alex cared for her business as if it were his own.
“Just remember, Becky Field made chocolate chip cookies,” he continued. “Nothing special about that. Except her megamillions.”
She smiled back at him. “You flatter me.”
His smiled dropped. “I’m not conning you,” he said defensively.
“I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. It’s just that where I live, where I come from, no one has talked to me the way you do. No one has ever given me—”
“Respect?” he interjected.
“Exactly.” Sadness filled her as she thought about her mother and all the complaining and harping she’d done over the years as Maddie had struggled to make her little café a success. Babs had hounded her to get a “safe” job in the bread factory, just as Babs had done. Babs told Maddie constantly that no one was going to pay four dollars for a fancy coffee and over three dollars for a cupcake. She ridiculed everything that Maddie said or did.
As Maddie gazed at Alex’s handsome, confident face, she realized that her mother had not wanted her own daughter to succeed. Suddenly, realizations about her own past were flying at her like the myriad of stars that pass by a spaceship as it zooms through space. “Yes. Respect. It’s been a tremendous amount of hard work.”
“And now you’re getting your payoff.” Alex smiled even more brightly, if that were possible.
He opened one of the manila folders he’d carried with him from the office. “Your investor is named James Stapleton. Ever hear of him?”
“No. Should I have?”
“Probably not. He’s been investing in restaurant chains and buying franchises since the sixties. He buys only a few at a time—two to six locations—and then waits to see how they do. If he doesn’t make any money, he shuts them down, and he may or may not use the location for a new franchise. He’s been moving businesses from the suburbs back into the city since 2000. I think it’s because as he’s gotten older, the suburbs are too boring for him and he and his wife like city life.”
“City life?” Maddie stopped him by reaching forward but not actually touching Alex’s hand. It was an unconscious move, motivated by years of standing on the shore of Lake Michigan and staring out to the west to see the skyline of Chicago glittering in the sun. She dreamed of living in the city, of leaving Indian Lake and all her heartbreaks behind. If she had this success, if she had respect, she could dare to live another life. A better life. A happy life.
Alex looked down at Maddie’s hand but didn’t make a move.
Maddie was dreamy-eyed when she asked, “Do you know what about the city they enjoy?”
“His wife is a theater buff. Goes all the time. She also likes the ballet, and I think she’s on a couple foundations around town. She’s a busy lady for someone nearly eighty.”
“Sounds wonderful.” Maddie smiled wistfully. “One of my two best friends will turn eighty-one this summer. She loves the theater. I should bring her with me sometime. We could see a play.”
“Or I could take you,” Alex said, and before Maddie could retract her hand, he captured it and raised it to his lips, kissing her fingers. “Maddie, I would like very much to show you my Chicago.”
Maddie squirmed in her seat. “Alex...”
“Do I make you that nervous, Maddie?” he asked with a chuckle.
“It’s not you, Alex. It’s just that I’ve put my heart and soul into my business and until it’s a real deal, I’m just not geared to think about anything else. Not plays or escargot, and certainly not champagne.”
A slow smile crept across Alex’s face. “Then I’m almost in the clear. How does a hundred thousand sound to you?”
“For what?” she asked.
“For the first two franchises of your cafés. James wants six, but I declined. After this first purchase, if James or any other investor wants to open a Cupcakes and Cappuccino Café, they’ll be a hundred thousand a pop. Once the first twenty are sold, our price moves to a quarter million for each opening. I didn’t think you would want to go low.”
“Go low?”
“You know, ask for just two hundred thousand for the entire franchise and let James open six cafés. It doesn’t work that way. At least not for me,” Alex explained.
“And they’ll need money for the build out and decor. The appliances and the brass-and-copper cappuccino machine.”
“James knows that. We’ll supply them with drawings, blueprints, scripts for employees, operation procedures, the standard regulations. You would be required to help train the managers and some staff in the beginning until these first cafes are up and running. And there would be the usual consulting. So, the hundred grand goes straight to you until we sell more sites. And believe me, I’ll make that happen for you.”
“You think so?”
“Absolutely. I can give you your dream, Maddie,” Alex replied. There was such earnestness in his eyes, Maddie felt warmth ripple through her body.
Maddie believed Alex was the right man to could sell her franchises. She couldn’t help wondering how many of her “dreams” he was scripting himself into.
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