Christmas Candy(17)
He drops another kiss on me. “You’re the sweetest of all.”
Hank
“Thanks for stopping in. Tell Lina I’ll be over on Christmas Eve.” I wave my Aunt Rae out the door, her arms laden with cookies and treats for my cousins and their children.
My gaze travels across the street to where Olive is teaching her second class of the day. I can barely see her in the back of the room, but I’ve already memorized her curves. Last night is seared into my mind, and I can’t wait to be near her again. It’s taking all my willpower to stay behind my counter instead of walking across the street to her.
She has walls, bricks stacked higher than any building in this small town. But when they come down and I can see the real her, it brings me to my knees. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. Hell, I want to pour my heart out to her—tell her my hopes, my dreams, my thoughts, every detail of my past. More than that, I want to know everything about her. Even now, I’m wondering what sort of perfume she wears that makes her smell like warm crème brûlée, what side of the bed she sleeps on, and whether she wants to have kids.
Instead of following my heart and interrupting her class, I follow my nose and turn to stir the caramel warming on the counter behind me. I slide the spatula through the sticky sugar. It’s almost melted, the light brown surface shiny and growing smoother by the second.
The bell on the shop door tinkles, and I turn to find Will Shurtz, the county health inspector. His round face is red, and he eyes my shop with a discomfort that makes me nervous. A clipboard is clutched in his left hand.
“Will, how’s it going?” I push the plate of fudge samples toward him. “Try one. I’m experimenting with chocolate from Zanzibar.”
He edges up, his eyes on the velvety fudge, but straightens his back at the last second and snaps his eyes to mine. “Here on official business. So, I can’t.”
“Official business?” I turn back to my caramel and stir it, then flick the burner off so it can cool.
“Right.”
“What’s going on?”
“Well, we’ve had a report of unsafe conditions here at the shop.”
I whirl. “What?”
“I got a call—”
“From who?”
“I can’t say.” He glances to Olive’s studio.
I grit my teeth. “Olive?”
He drops his gaze to the floor. “Like I said, that’s confidential.”
Did she regret last night? What did I do? I itch to run to her and find out.
“Anyway, it appears the report was well-founded.” He points to the burner on the back counter.
“That?” I raise my eyebrows.
“Yes. City code 3463-44 prohibits open flames in areas where customers gather.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Customers aren’t gathering behind the counter.”
He scratches the side of his bald head. “But they could.”
“What about Hibachi House? Do you tell Mr. Lee that he can’t cook in front of the guests? I’m pretty sure I’ve seen him make a mean onion volcano on plenty of occasions.”
“That’s, um, that’s different.” His brow wrinkles.
“How?”
“Well.” He coughs into his palm. Stalling. Then his eyes widen. “That’s a restaurant. He has a restaurant license. You don’t. You have a regular business license.”
Shit. “So, what, you’re going to fine me for having a single burner to melt caramel? Come on, Will. It’s Christmas.”
“No, not fine you. The code says we have to shut you down while I inspect the unsafe condition and present my findings at the next council meeting.”
My heart sinks. “Shut me down? It’s five days before Christmas. When’s the next council meeting?”
He looks up, his lips moving as he’s counting days. “That will be January 18.”
“No.” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “You can’t shut my store down during the busiest time of the year and then not reopen it until mid-January. That would kill it. I’d never be able to reopen!”
“Rules are rules, Hank.” He shrugs and starts writing on his clipboard. “Nothing I can do about it. I’m afraid you’re going to have to close.”
Panic sets in. “Will, come on. There has to be something I can do to stay open.”
“No, afraid not.” He gives me a sad look. “I have to follow the law. It’s not personal.” Turning, he heads back out the door. “I’ll give you half an hour, but if you haven’t ceased operations by then, I’ll have to call Sheriff Green.”