Better Than Chocolate. Sheila RobertsЧитать онлайн книгу.
And it’s free, Samantha thought. Right now free was good, as her savings account was on the verge of flatlining.
“So, have you come up with any ideas for how to get the money we need?” asked Cecily.
The elephants sitting on Samantha’s shoulders settled in for a nice, long stay. “Other than robbing the bank, no.”
“I still think I should take out a loan,” Cecily said. “Maybe I could get a home equity loan on my condo.”
“Nice try, but I told you, no loans,” Samantha insisted. “This family isn’t going any deeper into debt.” Mom being upside down on her house was bad enough. They didn’t need to put her sister in the same position.
Cecily gave a fatalistic shrug. “You know, I always thought I was pretty good at thinking outside the box, but I’ve got to admit that so far I’m at a loss. Other than matching you up with a rich man,” she teased Samantha.
“Meeting a nice man, there’s an idea,” Mom said, perfectly happy to take her seriously. “Maybe someone who’d be willing to make you a personal loan.”
“No problem,” Samantha said irritably. “Let’s run down to the rich-guy mart and pick up a sucker.”
“We wouldn’t have any luck, anyway,” Cecily said. “Your boobs aren’t big enough.”
Now Mom was looking thoughtful. “What’s the new bank manager like?”
“He’s no Arnie,” Samantha said bitterly. An image of Blake Preston with his broad shoulders and superhero chin came running into her mind, all dressed up in his football regalia. Samantha benched it.
“Still, surely he could be of some help,” Mom said.
Samantha shook her head. “I’ve met him. He’s useless.”
“Maybe you didn’t get off on the right foot,” Mom persisted.
If snatching back the bribe she’d brought him counted, no, they hadn’t. Samantha shot her sister a look that warned bodily harm if Cecily ratted her out to Mom and said, “Trust me, he won’t be any help. A man can’t always fix things,” she couldn’t keep from adding.
Her mother heaved a sigh. “I wish your father was alive. He’d know what to do.”
“If Dad was alive we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place,” Samantha said, and then wanted to bite off her tongue. Just shoot me now, she thought, watching her mother’s shoulders stiffen. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” she muttered. Except she had and they both knew it.
“It’s okay,” her mother said even though they both knew it wasn’t.
Now Samantha could hear Bailey’s voice in the background. A moment later her youngest sister appeared on the screen, plopping onto the love seat next to Cecily and pulling off a red leather jacket, probably a consignment store find. Ever since the company’s profits had evaporated they’d all been shopping secondhand. Or, in Samantha’s case, not shopping at all.
“So what have you guys come up with?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Samantha said. This was going to be a big waste of time.
“Well, I was thinking about something on the way over,” Bailey told them. “What about some kind of fundraiser? You know, with a big thermometer so people could see how much money we’ve raised.”
“No,” Samantha said. “Perception is important in business and the last thing we want is to announce to the whole world that we’re going under.”
“But we are going under,” Bailey pointed out.
“No thermometers,” Samantha said sternly.
Bailey frowned and fell back against the couch cushions, deflated.
“Speaking of perception,” Cecily said, “does anybody know how to contact Mimi LeGrande? If she featured Sweet Dreams on a show, we’d be golden.”
Why hadn’t she thought of that? Mimi LeGrande hosted the Food Network’s brand-new hit show All Things Chocolate. There wasn’t a bakery or chocolatier in the country who didn’t dream of getting included in one of her shows. If she were to give them a nod, orders would pour in from foodies and chocoholics, and their future would be secure.
“I heard she lives here. I could ask around,” Bailey offered. “There’s got to be someone who knows her.”
“That would be great,” Samantha said. Heck, it would be more than great. It would be a miracle. “But it’s a long shot. I think we need a more immediate plan.” There had to be one. Why wasn’t she seeing it?
Silence reigned for a full five minutes until Cecily said, “You know, our baby sis could be on to something.”
“Oh, not you, too,” Samantha groaned.
“What if we did come up with some sort of event to bring in money for the business?”
“A chocolate dinner?” Bailey suggested, coming back to life. “Every course could use chocolate. And we could do it at Zelda’s.”
“Guys, I appreciate the thought,” Samantha said, “but a dinner wouldn’t even come close to raising the kind of money we need.” Maybe they were on the right track, though. “Let’s think on a grander scale.”
“I did a chocolate tour in Seattle once,” Bailey said.
“A chocolate tour, a chocolate weekend,” Samantha mused. Maybe they could pull that off. They could have a dinner and a chocolate high tea at Olivia’s B and B. But anything they got from that would only be a drop in the bucket. “A chocolate festival.” Too bad they didn’t have more time. Festivals brought in a lot of people and a lot of money.
“Now, that’s brilliant!” Cecily exclaimed.
“Brilliant but not practical,” Samantha said. “We need that money in six and a half weeks. It would take six months to plan something on such a grand scale.”
“Then let’s plan on a baby grand scale,” Bailey said. “We can have it the weekend before Valentine’s Day when people are feeling romantic and buying candy.”
Samantha shook her head regretfully. “There isn’t time. It’s a lot to plan, and you have to promote it.”
“If you had people helping, you could do it,” Bailey insisted. “And with the internet and social media you can promote things fast now.”
“It’s a great idea,” Cecily said.
Was her entire family certifiably insane?
Suddenly she could envision Icicle Falls buzzing with throngs of visitors all on a chocolate high. Something like this wouldn’t just help their company, it would help the whole town.
Was she insane, too?
“Let’s do it,” Bailey said eagerly.
What was with this let’s do it stuff? They were down there and she was up here. On her own.
“We can sponser a bunch of events, maybe have some sort of contest,” Bailey continued. “I couldn’t come up till just before, but I could help with planning over the phone and on email in between catering jobs.”
“Actually, I can come up right away,” Cecily said.
“You’ve got a business to run,” Samantha protested.
“Things are quiet right now. I’ve got the time.”
Quiet? What did that mean? Wasn’t her dating service doing well?
Cecily tended to keep things to herself. When she had a crisis they never heard about it until it was long over.
Still, this worried Samantha. “Not that