Release day was yesterday! I am thrilled with the response to those few who have already read and left ratings and/or reviews. Thank you for taking the time to do so! If you haven’t already downloaded it, click the title to download A Novel Holiday! If you haven’t been around for the preview, click for the Prologue, Chapter 1, and Chapter 2. Chapter 3 will be posted below just in case you’re on the fence 😉
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Chapter 3
Will
October 20
I stood on the sidewalk while I stared at the façade of the Buttercream Beanery and sighed. Of course, Georgiana would want her birthday cake from this particular bakery—of course, she had no idea what I’d said when Jane told me who I’d been talking to at the charity gala either. I’d be fortunate if Liz—Elizabeth Bennet—hadn’t put laxatives in any food she served me. I hadn’t missed the narrowing of her eyes when she’d heard my comment, and no one in eyeshot would’ve missed the roll of her eyes as she’d laughed and turned toward the bar to face away from me.
My behavior was abominable. I could admit it. Yes, I was shocked to know “Liz” was in fact Elizabeth Bennet, but I could’ve handled it better; not that I’d say as much to her! If I’d insulted my housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, that way, she would’ve baked my favorite brownies and put as much chocolate-flavored laxative in them as possible. and I have no doubt I’d be stuck on the toilet for days while I cried like a toddler. Mrs. Reynolds was like a second mother to me and had witnessed on occasion my less-than-sociable side, which she despised. As a teenager, she’d once hauled me out of a party at our home by my ear to read me the riot act over my haughty behavior. She’d have done it at the gala too if she’d been there to witness it.
Enough with the stalling! I sucked in a breath in case Liz was in the shop. Maybe she wasn’t and I’d get in and out without her ever knowing. My palms were coated in a sheen of sweat. Why was I so nervous? Yes, my aim was to avoid her. The problem remained: how do you avoid someone in their own place of business?
After I climbed the steps, I waited for a mother and daughter to exit before I stepped inside. The rich aroma of fresh espresso and decadent pastries hit me in a wave and beckoned me to take in a huge breath while I glanced around the interior.
The space was large and bright and likely took up the entire first floor of the building. Pristine white walls gave the shop a clean aesthetic with pale slate-blue accents and several windows that provided a view into a courtyard set up with brick pavers and large urns filled to the brim with autumn-colored mums, decorative brown grasses, and a colorful pumpkin here and there.
To the left was the entrance to Novel Books, the bookstore, while a large counter ran across the back wall and curved around the right corner of the shop. To the left, a display case filled with pastries, cupcakes, cookies, and cakes invited customers to indulge in every decadent chocolate and sugary morsel followed by the coffee bar and the registers before the counter where drinks were picked up near the door to the courtyard. Tables filled the rest of the interior but weren’t so packed people couldn’t walk through. To bring a touch of the season to the space, an orange pumpkin decorated with flowers adorned a place near the registers as well as smaller pumpkins, autumn flowers, and other décor that were sprinkled throughout.
My eyebrows were surely high on my forehead. I was impressed. When I’d heard Philips had given the go-ahead for a bakery and café, this hadn’t been what I’d envisioned. Liz had done exceptionally well. Even during the middle of the workday, people sat and drank coffee not only inside but also in the courtyard, men and women in business attire hurried in to grab coffee before rushing off to who knows where, and a few mothers allowed their young children to select sweets from the array of cupcakes and cookies on display. Liz had created a thriving business, but why had she stopped at one location? With the success she had here, why not market the same business plan in another part of the city? She was missing a golden opportunity!
As I stood, no doubt gaping at the sight in front of me, my gaze came to an abrupt halt at a familiar ebony-haired beauty, who wore an elaborate black witch costume, a tall hat perched on her head. Liz stood about ten feet away, one eyebrow arched just so, and her arms crossed over her chest. Shit! I was busted.
“Is there something you needed, Mr. Darcy?” My spine stiffened like someone had scraped her pointed green fingernails down a chalkboard. I much preferred when she called me “Will.” I also preferred a more friendly tone, but what could I expect after the gala?
I shifted on my feet. “My sister has raved about the cakes from here since not long after she started Julliard. Her birthday is next month, and I wanted to order a custom cake.”
This time, her eyebrows shot up. “From my bakery? Notwithstanding your sister’s praises, I would’ve thought you’d rather purchase from anywhere else in New York. Once, you were hoping our business would fail, weren’t you? Or maybe you still are. You also seem to know my sister—which is not an item in your favor.”
With a sigh, I prayed for patience. “Yes, Pemberley Books has hoped to acquire Novel Books. Your uncle’s bookstore is large enough to make it difficult to open our own location on the Upper West Side much less Manhattan. We did our research, and your uncle cornered the market here decades ago. Novel Books is big enough that we would be in direct competition. Buying this store out and converting it would’ve been much simpler; however, with your uncle’s death, we shelved the idea to see what happened with the lawsuit brought by your parents—”
“Who were represented by my sister Jane.”
“Yes, Charles Bingley, Pemberley’s legal counsel and a long-time friend, had the information on the trust and your inheritance of it from your sister. He has since become engaged to her.”
Liz shook her head with what had to be a snort. “Good luck to him. He’s going to need it. My sister cares about no one but herself.”
Although I’d met Jane only a handful of times, I’d guessed as much. Bingley was entirely too cheerful, but he did have an impressive demeanor in court. He could argue his way out of most situations—and had never paid for a speeding ticket despite his perpetually heavy foot.
“I’m not friends with your sister if that helps.”
“One mark in your favor.” She pursed her lips to one side for a moment. “Fine, have a seat.” She pulled out a chair at a nearby table before saying a few words to the girl behind the counter. A binder was handed to her, and she made her way back, sitting in the chair beside me.
“Before we get started, would you like a cup of coffee? I had come to grab one before helping to set up for the event.”
I glanced at the extensive chalkboard menu that covered the back wall. “You have peaberry coffee?”
“Yes, it’s imported from Costa Rica.”
I loved peaberry but most of the larger chain coffee shops didn’t carry it. “I’d like a cup of that.” I started to stand. “Here, I’ll come up so I can pay.”
She held up a hand. “I offered, Mr. Darcy. We’ll consider ourselves even after the Scotch you purchased at the gala.”
I frowned. “That was to make up for breaking your shoe.”
“I’d had those heels for a couple of years, and they weren’t expensive. No need to make up for what I probably should’ve replaced long ago.”
Before I could respond, she whirled around in a swish of black satin and some frilly fabric I didn’t know the name of. What was it about Liz that made my tongue thicken in my mouth and my brain muddle? I didn’t have this problem at the gala—not this bad anyway.
She spoke to one of the girls behind the register then returned. “We have a full staff behind the counter, and it gets crowded, even without this dress I’m wearing, so Mia will brew our drinks and bring them over.
“That’s an interesting outfit. Is that your normal work attire?”
She sat stiff and didn’t even crack the tiniest of smiles. “I’m reading for one of the Halloween story events at two.” She flipped open the book. “Do you want a fall-themed or a traditional birthday cake?”
“My sister is gluten-free.”
“That’s not a problem. Eight months ago, our renovations on the third floor of this building were completed, and we’ve now a dedicated gluten-free space as well as a peanut-free space, and every order is boxed or wrapped before being brought down for sale.”
My eyebrows lifted. “That’s an expensive endeavor.”
“Word of our gluten-free cakes spread, and the pantry-sized space we were using hadn’t been adequate for some time.” She pushed the binder in front of me. “These are the birthday designs we currently offer.”
I turned from page to page, finally stopping on a cake where the icing at the bottom was piped on to look resemble a beehive, the cake showing through for contrast. The pattern gave way to the icing at the top where a pair of bees decorated the confection. White flowers gave an extra touch and a nice decorative element. “Georgiana would adore this. She loves bees.”
Liz frowned. “Georgiana? Do you mean Gigi; a tall, thin girl who talks about almost nothing but the piano?”
I opened up my phone and showed Liz a picture from her last performance.
“Your sister is Gigi. She’s so sweet and kind. What happened?” The slight curve to one side of Liz’s lips gave away her tease. “Never mind, I shouldn’t have said that anyway. Forgive me. So, if this is for Gigi, you’ll need a vanilla sponge with hazelnut buttercream. I’ll add a little Frangelico to the buttercream for the center filling as long as that’s okay with you.”
“It sounds amazing, but you’re going to make her cake?” It was a legitimate question. How often did the owner get down and dirty in the trenches?
“My uncle made me attend the Cordon Bleu in London for over a year to learn the nuances of baking and pastries, and I absolutely loved every moment. When I started Buttercream Beanery, it was just me and Char, my assistant, in the kitchen. We have more employees now, of course, or we’d never keep up with the demands of the café or custom orders, but I still bake every morning. Most of the bookstore business is tended to later in the afternoon. Char and I both collaborate on the menus and specials for the coffee shop business—the sandwiches and salads served at lunch, as well as the cakes and pastries we offer in the shop.
“We have extensive kitchens between the baking and kitchen space on the first and second floor to the dedicated allergy kitchen and baking spaces on the third floor. I’ve never handed over the management of the Buttercream Beanery to another. I have a manager who makes the schedules for the front of the house. Char is my back-up in the kitchens.”
“Which is why you haven’t opened another location yet. Right?”
She clamped her lips shut and pulled a tablet from under the binder. “You need one Bees Knees cake, vanilla with hazelnut buttercream and a Frangelico filling. When did you need it?” I sat back. Was she always so defensive with everyone or just me? Her tone was more relaxed and open with Marianne King, at least the little I’d overheard.
“October 31st.”
She winced. “Oh, that must suck having your birthday on Halloween.”
“My parents always put my sister’s birthday first. She never had to share anything with the holiday like those who have their birthdays close to Christmas.”
Liz’s shoulders relaxed a little. “I love that they put her first. Your sister’s a sweet girl. She deserves to be made a fuss over.”
“I have to ask; how do you know one customer among so many?” I couldn’t name a customer, not that I spent much time in our stores.
“That’s easy. She came in all upset one day. I served her some coffee and a piece of cake, and she told me about a boy who’d made fun of her. I played the part of big sister and told her he wasn’t worth her time, and that one day, he’d no doubt live to regret his words. I believe it was her first week at Julliard. The next day, she came in as she did the day after. By the end of the week, she’d brought in a friend she’d made. Since then, she comes in frequently, and almost always with others from her classes. They study, have coffee and talk, and sometimes have lunch.”
“She’d mentioned what happened the first day,” I said, “but never about you. I remember being surprised she’d come to such a mature outlook without talking to me or our housekeeper, who’s like a second mother to us both.”
The sparkle in Liz’s eyes dimmed some. “Gigi told me about your parents. I’m sorry.”
My insides gave a jump at the mention of my mother and father. Georgiana rarely mentioned them to anyone unless she trusted that person completely. How’d I never known of her friendship with Elizabeth Bennet?
“Thank you.”
She cleared her throat. “Anyway, what time do you want to pick this up?”
“It’s a Saturday evening party. Why don’t you come? You can bring the cake with you, and I’m sure Georgiana would love to have you there.” I gave a start. Had I just invited Liz to the party? Where had that come from?
Liz’s chin hitched back. “Okay, first, I’m not a delivery service; however, if that’s requested, I can accommodate you. We have a company we hire out to at an extra charge. And second, Gigi hasn’t invited me.”
“So, it’ll be a surprise.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to crash a party.”
“You won’t be.” I leaned forward and set my arms on the table. “Look, Georgiana never speaks of our parents to anyone—except maybe me and Mrs. Reynolds. The fact that she talked to you about them says loads about her trust in you.” Which was true.
“I caught her at a particularly vulnerable moment.”
“And have you talked to her since?”
Her eyebrows drew down a little in the middle. “What do you mean?”
“I mean does Georgiana seek you out or speak to you when she comes into the shop?”
One shoulder lifted. “Well, yes.”
“How often?”
She blew out a breath and sat back. “I see her a few times a week.”
“Then I think you should come.” I was going to be extraordinarily uncomfortable, but I’d already issued the invitation. I wasn’t going to take it back. Besides, inviting Liz wasn’t about me. Georgiana had never had an easy time making friends. Even if Liz was somewhat older, I’d move heaven and earth to ensure my little sister was happy at her party. What doting big brother wouldn’t?
L.L. Diamond 