“Let’s hope not,” he says and shuffles the paperwork in front of him. “Tomorrow we launch Royston’s Rye Special Edition. This is our jumping-off point. But we need more. Something out of the box.”
My thumb rubs along my chin. “I don’t know if this will help, but I recently read that Japan’s doing some incredible things with whiskey. Why not hire a consultant and see if we can’t create a recipe?”
He levels his gaze to me. “Where do you propose we get the money to hire this consultant?”
I spear a hand through my hair. It’s a lot shorter than I like, but it’s growing on me.
“Take it out of my pay.”
He shakes his head. “Nope. But I do like your idea. I’ll get some feelers out. See if anyone comes recommended.”
“I’ve got another idea.”
“Okay, let’s hear it.”
“While I was in Maui, Jerry invited me to his place for a wine tasting.” I stood and walked to the bar cart. “They booked it through a winery in Italy. This family-run business sent two people to his house to tell them all about their selections of wine. Not only that, but they had balsamic vinegar and truffle oil too. It was really cool.”
“Okay,” he taps his finger to the table. “Tell me more.”
“Customers book us for an event. Say they have twenty bourbon drinkers. We take all the flavors, or maybe we have the client fill out a form based on their flavor preferences. We ask them to supply the ingredients—we can make all kinds of cocktails and show them the best way to enjoy our bourbons. Then at the end of the night, they can purchase right on the spot.”
His face lights up and his palm slaps the top of the oak table. “Weston, this is a good idea. I like it. No, I love it.”
We pore over some more ideas and run through our options. We decide on the basic bullet points. I send my thoughts off to the marketing team.
“One more thing,” I say to Brant.
“Yeah?”
“I think we should set up a booth at the summer farmers market.”
He stares at me for a long moment. “Okay, that’s every Saturday from eight to one. So, who will work that?”
“I’ll do it. I’ll take some people from the sales team. They can take turns and I can train them. Eventually, they’ll be able to do it without me. I’ll do the same thing with the private tasting events.”
“Sounds good.” He clasps a hand to my shoulder. “I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks. You want to grab a drink?”
He shakes his head. “Can’t. I gotta go help Caroline at the boutique. Her fixtures came in today and I don’t want her lifting the heavy stuff.”
“I still can’t believe you’re having a baby with the cupcake girl.”
He laughs. “What can I say, we’re sweet on each other.”
I fake a gagging sound. “Please promise me you won’t be the guy with all the dad jokes.”
His hands land on his hips. “Not a chance, little brother. But let me tell you something, love and being in love can change anything. It can also make you do strange things.”
We wrap up our meeting, and I walk back to my office feeling pretty great about my suggestions. I end the day powering through a few emails. Before I call it a day, I pull up the year-to-date sales report.
Cupcake girl.
I remember a woman who likes cupcakes too.
Back Then
“Just come inside with me,” Minka laughs and tugs my shirt.
I stare up at the brick building with the striped awning. Palm trees in giant planters sit on either side of the white french doors. My eyes drift to the window. Everything inside is pink and colorful. It reminds me a little bit of my sister Haven’s bedroom when we were kids.
“No way. It’s got a pink and white awning.” My hands gesture upward. “I see zero dudes inside.”
“Wes, you won’t lose your ‘man card’ if you step inside a cute little cupcake shop.”
“Cute—exactly, which implies delicate and fragile. I’m not sure the ceilings are high enough for me. And if I sit at a table, I’ll turn those tiny chairs into firewood.”
Her arms fold over her chest. Annoyance flashes in her eyes. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“What do you think people on the island will say if they see me inside?”
She throws her hands up. “People will say—cool, Wes likes cupcakes too.”
My eyes narrow. “I can get you cupcakes at the grocery store.”
Minka rolls her eyes. “These are the best cupcakes on the island. I told myself that I’d come here. I’m going in without you.”
Her brown hair falls down her back as she turns away from me. Minka disappears inside, and I shove my hands into my pockets.
The gal behind the counter hands Minka something in a wrapper.
Her eyes close as she takes a bite. Then a smile breaks on her lips and it’s apparent all over her face.
Damn.
I pull open the door just as she takes another bite. The scent of vanilla and creamy butter wraps around me. Despite my best efforts, my mouth waters.
“Welcome to Sweet Temptations,” a gal with purple hair and glasses greets me.
Minka’s eyes meet mine as she swallows.
“Wes, you’ve got to taste this cupcake. Chocolate and coconut.”
I step up to the counter. Minka holds the frosted concoction in front of my mouth. My lips wrap around the dessert and she winks at me.
I chew and swallow. It’s the most delicious thing I’ve tasted. Well, second most delicious.
“It’s good,” I tell her and wipe my mouth with the napkin she hands me.
“Let’s get a box, my treat.”
I smirk. “Fine, but can we eat them outside?”
That earns me another eye roll. “Yes, you knuckle dragger.”
My hand covers my heart, feigning hurt feelings. “Ouch.”
She picks out four cupcakes. I’ve never seen someone so happy about cupcakes in all my life. Unless we’re talking about the birthday party I had with Superman cupcakes. That was a great day.
We sit at the beach a few blocks up.
She takes a bite then hands it to me. I take a bite and hand it back.
Coconut and chocolate. It’s a decadent mixture. Decadent mixture? Who am I?
“The best way to follow up cupcakes is with a mai tai,” she tells me.
“Hmm, I had another suggestion.” I waggle my brows at her.
“I bet you do.”
I breathe in the salt and sand as I enjoy the cupcake. Yeah, I admit it.
“This one time,” she says before taking another bite. “My mom brought home a box of those Hostess cupcakes. The chocolate ones. I ate the entire box.”
I laugh. “Did you get sick?”
“Nope, but I got in so much trouble. Mom dragged me out of bed at eight-thirty. That night we drove to the grocery store where she made me buy another box. She even made me pay for the gas it took to get there and back, too!”
I wince. “Your mom sounds hardcore.”
“She was very strict when I was young.” Minka stands to toss the cupcake wrappers in the trash can nearby. “But I guess she had to be with three daughters.”