Mrs. Hill here?” one of them asked as he stepped forward.
“I’m Katherine Hill. How may I help you?”
“We’re from the TGM Corporation, owner of The Last Roundup franchises in Lubbock.”
“Are you Mr. Frizzell?” When the man nodded, she added, “I believe I spoke to you on the phone.”
“That’s correct. We thought it would be a good idea to taste your product.”
When she made the four carrot cakes for The Last Roundup each day, she also made one for her shop, which she sold by the slice. Since the gentlemen had arrived before lunch, she still had some available.
“Of course. If you’ll be seated, I’ll bring you each a sample.”
Evelyn and Mary were working in the kitchen. Katherine stepped through the doors. “Can one of you watch the counter for a few minutes? I’ve got a business meeting.”
Though their eyes were filled with questions, the two ladies didn’t ask anything. Katherine figured they’d seen her tension. There would be a lot of profit in selling twelve to fifteen carrot cakes every morning. She charged twenty-five dollars a cake, which still left a large profit margin for the restaurants.
She prepared a tray with pieces of cake and cups of coffee and carried it through to the table the men had chosen. Just as she finished serving them and sat down to discuss their interest, the door was shoved open, the bell over it ringing mightily.
“Katie, I want to talk to you,” Gabe Dawson announced, as if his needs had to be met at once.
“Excuse me,” Katherine murmured to the men, and crossed over to Gabe’s side. “I can’t talk right now. I have a business meeting. I should be free in half an hour.”
Gabe glowered at first her and then the men. “I won’t take long,” he insisted.
Katherine gritted her teeth. “Not now, Gabe.” Then she turned around and hurried to the other table. She didn’t know what Gabe would do, but she prayed he wouldn’t mess things up.
“Gabe Dawson!” Mary called out. “It’s good to see you, boy. Why don’t you sit down and let me pour you a cup of coffee. And we’ve got a couple of sausage rolls left over from this morning. If you don’t eat them, we’ll just have to throw them out.”
Katherine vowed to give Mary a bonus if she improved Gabe’s mood, as well as kept him occupied until she could finish with the businessmen.
They had already begun eating their cake. Katherine could tell by the expressions on their faces and the quickly disappearing cake that half the battle was won.
Mr. Frizzell daintily wiped his mouth with the lemon-yellow paper napkin after scarfing down his piece. He cleared his throat. “Yes, um, well, very tasty cake, Mrs. Hill.”
“Thank you.”
“This was baked this morning?” the second man asked.
“Yes, it was. I bake four cakes every morning for The Last Roundup and simply make an extra for the shop.”
“I guess you don’t have much left over,” the third man, a little more rotund than the other two, asked, beaming at her.
“No, I don’t,” she agreed with a smile.
“May we see your baking facilities?” Mr. Frizzell asked, and Katherine proudly led the way to her kitchen. She’d been in business for five years. Each year she’d plowed as much money as she could into updating her facilities. Now the large room was state-of-the-art, with four large professional ovens on one wall.
“Could you produce, say, three cakes each for our three locations in Lubbock each day, in addition to Jessica’s order?” Mr. Frizzell asked.
“Yes, of course. But I can’t deliver to Lubbock. I don’t have the personnel for that.” She held her breath. With Paul ready for college in the fall and Susan right behind him the next year, the extra profit would come in handy.
“No, we understand. We can take care of delivery, but the cakes would need to be picked up by nine-thirty each morning.”
“That wouldn’t be a problem.”
“And, since we’re ordering in quantity, I suppose you could give us a discount?”
Katherine paused, tempted to cut her profit to insure she got their business, but she knew how much profit Jessica made on her cakes. And she knew she made a good product. Taking a deep breath and praying they wouldn’t walk out, she smiled and said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Frizzell. While I’d like your business, I use the best ingredients in my product and I can’t lower my price.”
All three men frowned.
“Very well. We’ll let you know our decision,” the head man said, and they shook hands with her and left.
Katherine remained in the kitchen, standing there with her face buried in her hands, sure she’d just made a huge mistake.
“Katie!” Gabe snapped from the kitchen door.
She lowered her hands and turned around. As usual, she had no time for privacy.
“Yes, Gabe?”
“Do you have time to work me into your schedule?” he drawled, implying she’d put him off just to be difficult.
With a sigh, she picked up the decorating tube Mary had abandoned to work the counter and finished decorating the cake her assistant had been working on. “If you can talk while I work.”
She hadn’t looked at him after that first brief glance. When he said nothing, she finally looked up.
He was staring at Evelyn, who was pouring batter into several cupcake pans.
Evelyn, seeming to feel his stare, looked up. “Oh! Oh, do you want me to go to the counter?” she asked, looking at Katherine.
“No,” Katherine replied.
“Yes,” Gabe ordered.
Katherine’s gaze told Evelyn to go back to work. Then she said calmly, “The last I checked, this was my shop and Evelyn worked for me. Right?”
“I need to talk to you alone.”
His husky voice sent shivers down her spine, but she stood her ground.
“Then come back after the school rush, around four-thirty or five. Maybe I can spare you five minutes then.”
“Damn it, Katie, this is—”
“I told you to call me Katherine.”
“Fine, Katherine! I want information now. I can’t waste my entire day waiting for you to deign to give me five minutes.”
“Take it or leave it,” she replied, stubbornly continuing with her work.
“Is
