“I want a wall here,” Sera said, gesturing demonstratively. “It should separate the prep area from the front. And I want a giant window in it, with one-way glass so we can see what’s going on up front and still maintain a bit of privacy while we work. I want to be able to keep an eye on my customers and counter help, without them having their eyes on me.”
Malcolm chewed on his yellowish mustache and made a “hmphing” noise. He eyeballed the space. Took out an electronic tape measure from one of his overall pockets. Strode over to one side of the store and aimed the device’s laser sight across to the other. Made a note on one of his crinkly order pads. “With the light streaming in, it won’t be completely one-way,” he warned. “At least in the afternoon, that glass’ll let folks see in somewhat.”
“That’s okay,” Sera decided. “It’ll give people a taste of what we’re up to back there without letting them gawk too much. And the mornings are when we really want to focus on working undisturbed. Afternoons, we’ll probably be up front half the time anyhow, or just frosting cakes and such in the back.”
“Or cleaning,” Malcolm muttered. “Feckin’ dishes never do themselves, do they?”
“I plan to hire help for that,” she assured him. “And a barista for the coffee bar, who can help out at the register. But my aunt Pauline will be the main counter person.”
Malcolm’s face reddened again.
“You mean to have some doddering old tart bumbling about while we’re working the breakfast rush? Are ye daft?”
Sera drew herself up, taking a deep breath to remind herself—again—of her vow not to let Malcolm infuriate her.
“There’s a lot you need to know about my aunt Pauline, Mr. McLeod. So listen up.” Sera stared him down until she was sure he was paying attention, obscurely comforted to catch Asher’s smile out of the corner of her eye. “Pauline Wilde is an extraordinary woman, capable of just about anything. She’s no more in her dotage than you are, and twice as energetic, if that gut of yours is anything to go by. Not to mention, she’s light-years more charming. And yeah, maybe just a little bit of a tart.” Sera let a grin peek through her stern demeanor for just a second. “Anyhow, my hiring her isn’t a matter for debate—though my hiring you is. Got it?”
Malcolm looked as if he might roll up his mustachios and storm out, but Asher slapped him on the back and gave his shoulder a companionable shake. “You’ll love Miss Pauline, Malcolm,” he assured the stubby Scotsman. “She’s one of a kind, just like you. The two of you will get along beautifully.”
Sera privately doubted that. “Back to the plans,” she said. “Now, Asher, you’re okay with us installing the ovens and sinks and refrigeration units along this wall, is that right?”
Asher nodded. “I can show Malcolm the electrical grid and get him the specs he’ll need to learn the wiring before he goes knocking holes in the walls.”
“Great,” said Sera. “I’ll also want a second bathroom installed and the one that’s there now renovated to accommodate greater traffic.”
“What about back there?” Malcolm asked, pointing toward the bead-shrouded back room. “Why not just put the loos in the rear?”
“Unfortunately, that area is sacrosanct.” Sera put on her no-negotiating face to cover the mischief that wanted to shine through. “Why don’t you go have a look at what’s back there,” she invited, waving Malcolm toward the beaded curtain.
Malcolm went, muttering about women and their cryptic ways.
He returned with a pinched look on his face.
“I dinna want tae know,” he said tightly, his brogue thickening to porridge-like consistency. His red-apple cheeks were fairly glowing. “I kenned ye were a strange bird the minute ye darkened m’ doorstep, lass. But if yer money’s green and yer cookin’s half as good as ye boast, ye could stable a barn full o’ leather-clad llamas back there and ol’ McLeod wouldn’t blink. Just dinna, for the love o’ heaven, be asking me to bake ye any o’ them… ahem… anatomically shaped desserts. We clear?”
“We are clear, Mr. McLeod,” Sera assured him. “Crystal clear.”
After that, the plans went smoothly. Less than a half hour later, they were rolling up their drawings and Sera had sealed up Big Mama for the trip to her temporary storage at Pauline’s. She felt fairly confident she’d gotten her ideas across to the irascible Scot, and Asher appeared on board. Her heart lifted and a thrill of excitement raised goose bumps on her skin. It’s really starting to happen, she thought. Her heart did a happy dance.
“So what’s next?” she asked, stuffing her notes back in the messenger bag that served as her purse.
“What’s next is ye make yourself scarce,” Malcolm said, already turning back to his graph paper and pencil stub, measuring tape in one hand.
“Excuse me?”
“Ye heard me. Get out. Come back in six weeks, and I’ll have something to show ye.” He scratched his thick mane of hair with the blunt end of the pencil stub. “More’n like, I’ll have finished the whole works by then. But don’t ye be bothering me before then.”
Sera stiffened. “You want me to leave.”
“Ye slow, lass? Be gone. Vamoose. Take a hike. Literally. Yer surrounded by mountains and trails here, so why don’t ye get lost along some of them, and find yer way back here ’round the first week of November, like. I won’t have ye hovering over me like a hen with only one egg the whole time I’m working in here. I don’t work well around persnickety women.”
Persnickety? Sera thought. Is he kidding with that shit? “And I should—what, just leave the store to your tender mercies during that time?”
“Something like that, aye.” Seeing her ire, Malcolm sighed. “Look, lass. Ye just got to our fair city a wee bit ago. Ye probably haven’t had much time to sniff around; get to know what she’s all about. But ye need to understand this place to become a part of it. Ye need to feel it in yer bones and yer heart. Ye can’t do that while yer breathing plaster dust and getting in my way.”
“Wow, that was… unexpectedly poetic, McLeod,” Sera said with a grudging grin. “But I’m guessing you’re a lot more concerned about me being underfoot than fearful for my spiritual welfare.”
“Believe as ye will,” Malcolm grumbled. “Just don’t be blundering about whilst I’m working.”
“And you?” Sera asked, looking over at her landlord. He stood slightly to the side, with his arms crossed over his chest, making his knit shirt pull indecently across his corded arms and pecs. “What do you think about all this?”
“I think Malcolm has a point, actually,” Asher said mildly. “This may be your best chance to acquaint yourself with your new home before you become too busy to take advantage of its offerings. Besides, there’s little you can do to help with the renovations, Bliss—unless you’re adept with power tools or drywall?”
Sera had to admit she wasn’t.
“Then I suggest you go explore our fair city. I’ll happily keep an eye on our contractor friend, since I’m just next door. And of course, I’m sure you’ll be stopping in frequently to check on Malcolm’s progress. Malcolm, surely you have no objection to that?”
“I suppose not,” he grumbled. “So long as the lass ain’t planning on telling me how to install my own ovens.”
Sera stopped to consider. She’d pictured herself wading knee-deep in the renovations, maybe wielding a hammer or painting walls—at the very least, supervising the contractor and his assistants daily. But she had to admit, she’d probably be more in the way than helpful, considering her utter incompetence with power tools. Maybe her pie Nazi did have a point. Maybe she could afford to take a small step back here, just for a little while. Once the bakery opened, Sera would be on her feet night and day, baking and serving from 4 a.m. ’til 4 p.m., then handling shop business until she collapsed. She was more than willing to put in the hours to make her dream come true. But Malcolm was right. She knew less than nothing about drywall, nail guns, and electrical engineering. If she hovered over the construction like a hen with just one chick, she’d only get in the way. For sure, she didn’t intend to traipse off on a Caribbean cruise for the next month and a half while her half-crazed contractor bashed down walls willy-nilly, but he was right—better take advantage of this last hurrah to see some sights and get to know her new home.