Page 25 of Bloom and Burn
The bakery in the town center is next. As with Mr. McMillan’s shop, I called beforehand so they have some data ready for us as well. This allows us to spend some time viewing a couple properties Emily and I noted down as good options for the Orchid. Two of them are too small,but the third one is perfect. While it’s worn down, it’s big enough and I could do most of the renovation work myself, so I’m pretty much sold on it. Besides, the other half of the building is up for sale, too, so when the time comes, I can buy it as well.
Satisfied with our productive afternoon, we head over to Bo’s.
“If we look at the numbers during the busiest times like noon, there is a twenty percent difference in the profits,” Jack points out once we have ordered our food. He’s sitting next to me on the couch, while Emily is in her wheelchair across from us.
I can’t stop the tingling just under my skin as I feel his thigh brushing against mine when he leans forward so he can pass Emily the report from the second bakery. It’s a little distracting if I’m being honest, and I have to put some conscious effort into not overfocusing on the contact so I can keep up with the conversation. I’ve been super conscious of him sincethathappened, and it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore the urge to be close to him and taste him again.
“Do we have anything we can use as evidence that sales are affected by the location?” I ask as this is the most important aspect of this whole mission. If I can’t prove it, there will be no point approaching my parents.
“Nothing concrete just from the data itself, but a questionnaire or a feedback form can help with that,” Jack replies, his pretty eyes catching mine, then flicking to where our thighs are pressed against each other.
Something passes over his face, but it’s gone too quickly, making it impossible for me to decipher it. The momentary, subtle tilt of one side of his lips as he doesn’tmove his leg away when he leans back into the couch tells me he’s quite happy to retain our current closeness.
“Jack, you think people would fill that out?” Emily challenges, voicing my concern.
“I doubt it, unless there is an incentive,” he concedes, then turns to me. His eyes are somehow even more intense as they dip down to where our hips are touching again, and I love the fact that he is overly aware of the contact, just like me. “We could maybe ask the owners to do ‘a cookie for your feedback’ type of thing? Even if we get just a few respondents, it should be enough.”
This… could work. If we ask the questions in the right way, maybe something along the lines of ‘If X was located outside of the central area, would you go there for lunch?’ and ‘How often and why do you go to X?’ though obviously better worded, we should get some useful data.
Excitement makes me buzz. I feel ten steps closer to making my dream a reality. This could really work.
Onboard with the idea, I nod at Jack. “I’m not sure about cookies, but I can spare some flowers? So they can hand them out?” I’m not exactly swimming in money and while I could pay for a dozen cookies at each shop, anything more than that would be a bit of a strain on my wallet. Flowers, on the other hand, would be easier since I usually have some leftover stock.
Emily chuckles, wiggling her perfect eyebrows at me. “Not saying flowers won’t incentivize people, but free cookies to go with their coffee would do a significantly better job. Jack and I will pay for it, of course, since it’s us that asked you for help.”
Oh, yeah, true. Since they planted the idea about moving in my head, I’ve been all on board with it and ‘rebelling’ against my parents, but she’s right—in the grandscheme of things, this technically benefits them more than me.
“We could do a week-long promo, which should give us enough time to get a decent enough sample. Obviously, we’ll limit it to one cookie per person, so we don’t skew our data.”
It sounds like Emily knows exactly what she is talking about, which is great because she probably knows how to analyze the results as well. I don’t think it will be all that complicated considering what we are fishing for is very straightforward, but it helps to have someone already familiar with the process.
“Is that what you do, Emily?” I blurt out, curious to know. “As a job?”
She grins and squares her shoulders, exuding pride. “Pretty much. I handle the business side of things at JE, lots of the decisions too, while”—she hooks a thumb at Jack—“my dear brother handles the big brain stuff.” She leans forward and places a hand on one side of her mouth as if to prevent Jack from hearing. “Believe it or not, despite his looks and love for suits, Jack is the brainy, socially awkward type.”
I surmised that already, but hearing it from Emily confirms how big of a dork he really is. It also explains why he’s not much of a public figure and leaves that sort of thing to his PR guy. Can’t say I’d have done it differently if I was in Jack’s shoes, if I’m being honest—cameras and interviews just aren’t my thing.
I dart a glance his way and find him watching me with a curious gleam in his eyes. “I’m not wearing a suit today, am I?” he points out, smiling as his eyes roam my shirt with appreciation.
Is he undressing me in his head? Bending me over this table, customers be damned? He better be.
I wink at him, letting my tongue poke out of my mouth as I lick my bottom lip. He knits those brows together and discreetly adjusts himself under the table.
“Oh, stop it you two. You’ll make me blush.” Emily laughs.
I clear my throat. “I’ve no idea what you are talking about.”
She snorts. “Not you, too. Ugh, I swear, you two are perfect for each other.”
Her words catch me a little off-guard, just like her easy acceptance. I don’t know where Jack and I really stand, but I do know that I love hanging out with him. The sex was amazing too, but we haven’t really had a talk about us yet. There’s also the issue of Jack not remembering me, but then again, we weren’t friends or even acquaintances back in high school. We crossed paths, yes, and he might’ve picked on me a bit, but for all intents and purposes, we were two strangers.
Still… should I tell him? Is there any point when all it might do it make him feel guilty for something that happened ages ago? It’s not really such a big deal, and after getting to know him, I know for a fact that he’s long redeemed himself. I also kind of like this new, clean slate.
As I wonder whether I should ask if they kept in touch with anyone from Estacada, it occurs to me that I never told them that the mayor is actually my dad. Maybe they already figured it out themselves, though.
“So, did I tell you that Estacada’s mayor is my dad?” I ask once our food has arrived. Two crazy burger sets with milkshakes and a pizza for me.
Emily gasps in an overly dramatic way. “No way!”
