Page 15 of Follow My Heart

“Yes! I’m so excited.”

“Say thank you,” Ryder reminded her.

Faith rolled her eyes while she managed to lick her ice cream. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I tried not to smile at their interaction, but it was cute.

I left them to finish their ice cream, wiping already clean counters. I turned up the volume by one so I could move around the shop to the beat of the music.

When they finished their ice cream, Ryder stopped by the counter while Faith headed outside. He could see her through the window. “Thanks for offering to let Faith watch what you do.”

“I’m excited to share my work with someone who’s interested in my process.”

He nodded, then said, “What if I’m interested? Do you mind if I stick around?”

That was a little different. I thought he’d drop Faith off, and we’d be by ourselves. If he was going to be here, watching us, it would be more nerve-racking. I was hyperaware of his presence whenever he was near. “Not at all.”

He leaned his elbows on the counter, lowering himself to my level. “You looked good dancing around the shop.”

I flushed. “I didn’t realize you were watching.”

“You’re hard to ignore.” Then he pushed off the counter. “I’ll see you next Monday if I don’t run into you walking around the neighborhood.”

He paused at the door and turned around. “Have you ever thought of making a flavor with your name on it?”

I laughed. “I haven’t, actually.”

He winked. “Something to think about.”

I could do something lavender, maybe grape flavored? But I didn’t like grape. It should be something that I enjoyed. What could work?

“I see I’ve got your brain turning.”

“I’m intrigued. It’s a problem I have to solve.”

He pulled open the door. “Maybe we can help you with that when you show Faith how to create a flavor. I’ll see if Faith can come up with anything.”

Ryder joined Faith on the sidewalk, and I couldn’t resist following his movements.

He walked with a confident swagger, yet at the same time, he was aware of his surroundings. I got the impression he studied everyone in his vicinity, mentally noting anything out of the ordinary. I wondered if he’d analyzed me. What did he do in his job? Did he investigate people, or did he analyze evidence? I was dying to know, but I was sure he couldn’t talk about it.

I’d agreed to show his daughter how I made my ice cream. I was ecstatic to share that part of my life with her. So few people asked me about it. Customers assumed I sold another creamery’s ice cream like one of the other shops in the area. I should probably share my process to elevate my business, but I wasn’t sure how.

I didn’t have many tables, so a place mat with my story written on it wouldn’t work either. Maybe a sign that said I make my own flavors could work.

What if I offered classes about making ice cream, similar to the cooking classes I attended? Would kids enjoy that? Would it be something I could do on Mondays that would serve the dual purpose of advertising my business and drumming up more interest and money?

I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of the idea before. But I’d just been trying to get the business off the ground and earn a profit since rent in this area was so expensive.

I pulled out my laptop and did a quick search. I couldn’t find any other ice-cream shops that were offering classes. A broader search didn’t reveal anything. It would be a unique idea. I didn’t have a lot of room in the kitchen area though. I just didn’t have the space.

I could share my process and then let people make their own. But I’d need a few more stations, smaller stainless-steel tables where they could work, and more mixers. The only way I could do it would be to expand or move to another location.

The Main Street shop owners met once a month to discuss business, and thankfully I’d been included in those meetings. I could talk to them about my business idea, except I didn’t want anyone else to steal it. There were too many ice-cream shops in this area.

One was a chain, another was a frozen yogurt chain, another mixed their ice cream with soda, and it had a nostalgic vibe to it, and yet another made fudge. This would be the one thing that could set me apart.

Excited to get started, I wrote down ideas for what I could do with Faith. It would be a trial run of sorts. To see what kind of questions she had, if it was something people would be interested in.

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