I blinked at him. “Business?”
“Yes.”
“If you’re saying this to get in my pants, I should warn you that it’s futile.”
Maverick’s eyes sparkled. “Noted. It’s still business, though.”
Good God.
Sighing, I stood up and motioned to the table. “Get your stuff. We can talk in the kitchen.”
To his credit, Maverick cleaned up after himself and put his dirty dishes on the counter for Felicity to deal with. I did the same, and after she’d served the last customer, I said, “I’ll be in the back with Mr. Donovan discussing business. Let me know if you need me.”
She smirked. “Yes, boss.”
I pointed my finger at her. “Watch it.”
She didn’t stop grinning.
She was lucky she made good bread or I’d fire her.
Lies.
I wouldn’t.
Nobody else in this town could bake like Felicity. She was mine, and I was keeping her.
I guided Maverick into the kitchen and held up a finger. I needed to check on the latest round of donuts. They were one of the biggest sellers for us and we always needed an afternoon restock. The donuts were done, so I pulled them out and turned off that particular oven.
“What do you want to discuss?” I asked, setting the donuts on a cooling rack. “You don’t mind if I work while we talk, do I?”
“Please, carry on. But be aware that I can and will use it all in my book.”
“Noted. Start talking, then.” I checked all the ovens and set timer on some bread rolls that were a few minutes from being done.
Maverick leaned against a counter. “Remember last night when I said that my heroine in my new book is a baker?”
I paused. “I think so. You suck at it, right?”
“Something like that,” he said dryly. “I tried to bake this morning and, honestly, the only thing I’m baking is my fire alarm. The fire chief actually called me after and asked me to stop or he was going to report me for wasting their time.”
I clapped my hand over my mouth. “Wow. That’s… something.”
“Yeah, something like that.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Piper, I need your help.”
What the—
No.
Surely not.
The oven timer went off like an alarm system.
I slapped the button to shut it off and removed the bread from the oven. “I don’t see how I can possibly help you.”
“The best research for a book is when it’s done in person. Can you help me? Tell me about your routine, your baking—”
I looked over at him. “You’re crazy.”
“Please.”
“There’s nothing I can tell you that you can’t find out by researching it yourself.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, the thing is—”
“I don’t like things.”
“I don’t imagine you do.”
I blinked at him. “Don’t tell me the thing.”
“What I really need is a recipe—or two. Maybe three. Brand new ones. And since I can’t even make box cookies, I doubt I’m coming up with any anytime soon, and you’re the only baker I know.”
“Let me get this straight.” I stared at him. “You want me to tell you everything about how I run my business, from my routine to how the bakery works, and create you three brand new recipes for your book, that you can sell and make thousands of dollars from?”
Another rub on the back of his neck. “Well, when you put it like that…”
“You’re insane.”
“I’ll pay you,” he said quickly. “You can keep all your business secrets. I’ll commission the recipes from you and credit you and your store.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “You’ll pay me.”
“Five grand per recipe.”
What the—
“Are you insane?”
Maverick shook his head. “I’m desperate, Piper. My deadline is approaching and I’m way behind. If you commission me three recipes, I’ll pay you fifteen grand. Half up front and half after you’ve done the recipes. You and the store will be fully credited in the book, and you’ll retain ownership of the recipes so you can sell them in your store.”
I said nothing.
“You want to franchise, right? Turn Queen of Tarts into a chain? Both the money and the recognition in my book will help you do that.”
He was right.
Damn it, he was right.
Fifteen grand was the start of a second bakery. It was a down payment on a store—a down payment I didn’t currently have. While I wasn’t in the immediate position to open another store as we were still settling here, it was a huge step to my dream.
“And I’ll make sure you cater all my signings,” Maverick continued. “Having the exact bakes at every signing for everyone to try will be a great PR tool for us both. My publisher will love it, and all your expenses will be covered.”
I still didn’t say anything. Creating recipes was a huge thing—I hadn’t made one from scratch in such a long time. I usually cut a corner and modified an existing one, but almost all my current recipes were either pure classics or had been changed by me in some way. The only original ones I’d created were a couple of seasonal holiday recipes.
Like my cinnamon pumpkin cookies.
“That’s a lot of work,” I finally said. “Creating one recipe is time consuming, never mind three, and you haven’t said what kind of recipe you actually want.”
“Anything,” he replied quickly. “You’re creating them, and I can work anything into the story.”
I blew out a breath and looked around. “Um…” My creations were all cooling, and the sheer magnitude of what he was asking me to do sank in. “How long would I have?”
“More than you’d think,” Maverick said slowly. “If I can spend some time here just seeing how things work behind the scenes, I can get writing. I can add the recipes and exact goods even in edits.”
“How much time would you need to spend here?”
“As much as you’re happy with, but I’d like to see you create at least one of the recipes so I can recreate the process in the book for authenticity.”
I swallowed, then drew in a deep breath only to huff it out again. “It’s an early start. I start baking at four-thirty every single morning and do it flat-out until Felicity arrives. Sometimes I’m here alone and have to bake and serve.”
“Four-thirty in the morning?”
“And you couldn’t get in my way. At all. Like you need to stay in the corner, sit quietly, and take your notes or whatever. I have a process and I don’t like being interrupted. I’ll let you know when you can ask questions.”
His lips tugged to one side.
“I’ll teach you how to use the coffee machine. I will feed you, but you will get me coffee on demand.”
“That seems fair.”
“And I want to be in the book.”
“You want to be in the book?” Maverick fought a laugh.
I shrugged. “Never been in a book before. I don’t see that I’ll ever get a better chance than this, so why not?”