shifted in his chair and consulted the report again. “I’m not denying there’s a market for it. I’m just trying to tell you that scores of food manufacturers have gotten there before you.”
She folded her arms. “Is their cheesecake as good as mine?”
He chuckled. “I seriously doubt it, but I can’t say with any authority. Shall I send someone to the grocery store so we can conduct a taste test?”
She frowned good-naturedly. “Don’t laugh at me. I’ve had a rough day and I’ve got to do something to get out of this chasm of debt.”
“Britt, you have an excellent product here,” he said. “But that freezer aisle in the store represents a cutthroat market. Your cheesecake is scrumptious, but I don’t think you have the capital or the...the distinction to be noticed.”
She continued to pace. “Distinction?”
“You know, something that makes you unique, that screams out at the buyer. A gimmick.”
“Gimmick,” she repeated thoughtfully, falling back into her chair. “Why should something delicious have to have a gimmick?”
He smiled sympathetically. “The world turns on gimmicks. For a little guy like yourself, the gimmick would have to be big to get you noticed. But I think if you could find it, you’d be successful, because your product is superior.”
She looked at him suspiciously. “In your personal or professional opinion?”
“Both. Because I don’t have to conduct a lab analysis to know what you’re made of, Britt. If anyone can do the impossible, it’s you.”
Britt couldn’t help herself. She was encouraged. And it was so long since she’d felt a spark of enthusiasm for anything but her children that she let herself enjoy the sensation. She would remember all the negative aspects Judson had pointed out later. Right now she’d just hold on to the fact that he thought her cheesecake was delicious, and that he had faith in her.
This time she didn’t stop herself from hugging him. “Thanks, Judson. That means a lot to me.” She stepped back to dig into her purse. “What do I owe you for the lab work?”
“A dozen cheesecake Danishes,” he said, closing her purse and walking her to the door. “By the time I get to Marge’s they’re always gone.”
She hugged him again. “I’ll bring them by tomorrow. Thanks again for your help and your honesty.”
“Any time. Good luck, Britt.”
* * *
BRICK BAUER LOOKED into the back of the station wagon at the crumpled bike and halted Britt’s efforts to pull it out. “Don’t bother,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m afraid it’s DOA.”
She hated to believe that, but Brick never lied to her. He’d been looking out for her since they were children, and Jimmy’s death had made him even more caring and protective.
“You’re sure?”
“Trust me. Someone did a very thorough job. Matt park it behind the truck again?”
Britt smiled at her cousin. “You have a detective’s instinct. Insightful and cleverly deductive.”
He grinned. “Of course. It’s the Bauer way.”
“Are you just coming home, or leaving for work?”
“I’m just off duty.” He glanced at his watch. “Karen should be home in half an hour or so. I can’t believe our shifts coincide for once.”
Britt squashed the surge of jealousy she felt that his marriage was fresh and new and hers was so prematurely over. “Who starts dinner in a two-cop family when the wife’s a captain, and the husband...isn’t?”
He made a pretense of polishing his badge. “Why, the better cook, of course. Sauerbraten. Want to stay?”
“Thanks. I’ve got to pick up the kids.”
Brick frowned. “Is Matt walking his route?”
“He’s using my bike,” Britt said, her expression wry. “A ‘nerdy’ comedown for him, I’m afraid. Marshack wanted to buy him a new one, but I wouldn’t let him. Matt’s got to take responsibility—”
“Marshack?” Brick asked.
“Winnebago Dairy’s district sales manager.” Her forced smile slipped a little. “He came to try to collect. When he left, Matt had propped his bike up against his Explorer and he backed right over it.”
“Matt needs the route if he’s going to go to that Boy Scout thing.” He grinned apologetically. “And your bike is nerdy. Want to borrow my credit card?”
She frowned her disapproval. “It’s the principle of the thing.”
“I know.” He put an arm around her and held her close for a sober moment. “How’re you doing with him? Is he still moody and remote?”
She nodded, happy to lean against her cousin’s strong shoulder. “Yeah. But then, so am I. He’s fairly cooperative. No worse than any other prepubescent boy dealing with the loss of his father.” She sighed, then pushed away, afraid of becoming too comfortable with Brick’s support. “I appreciate your interest, but you’ve got your own household to worry about now.”
“Karen has a meeting Friday morning and I’m off,” he said, opening her door for her. “I’ll come by and fix the porch roof for you.”
She smiled sheepishly. “I already did. Sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“Well, I was using the short ladder because I’d lent the twelve-footer to Judy Lowery, and I overreached.”
He frowned in alarm. “You fell?”
“No. Marshack caught me.” She had a sudden, vivid memory of his hand wrapped around her inner thigh. A deep blush caught her completely unaware.
Brick noted it and raised an eyebrow. “Do tell, Brittany.”
She got into the car, pulled her door closed briskly and lowered the window. “Nothing to tell. He just happened to arrive at a very timely moment. Cut off my supplies, but saved me from breaking my neck.” She smiled and turned the key in the ignition. “That’s life. You have to take the bad with the good.” She blew him a kiss. “Love to Karen. See ya.”
As Britt drove back through town, she cranked up her Clint Black tape to put thoughts of Jake Marshack out of her head. She couldn’t imagine why images of him lingered there anyway. He was just another big-dairy bully making her life more difficult than it already was.
So he was nice looking. Actually, he was a lot more than nice looking. Since she was having to deal with serious realities lately, she could admit to herself that he was gorgeous.
Guilt and confusion filled her simultaneously. Why did that matter, anyway? And how did thoughts of him form when her entire man-woman
