It's a Boy!. Victoria Pade

Carter, Heddy felt the need to make conversation. Lang’s comments about which of the cheesecakes he thought they should start with and which should be featured later weren’t enough.

      Plus she was curious about him.

      She hated that she was. But she was.

      “The brandy mousse—wonderful but tastes seasonal. Let’s hold off and do that as a Christmas or New Year’s flavor,” he said, waiting for Heddy to make a note before he answered her question. “What do I do as the start-up guy? Well, when the decision gets made to open a new store or to branch out, the first thing I do is the research. If it’s a new store, I start by doing the demographics and scouting for the best location. From there I do all the groundwork, bid on the land, deal with zoning, apply for the permits, find contractors…. Things that set the wheels into motion.”

      “And if it’s a new endeavor?”

      “I do what I’ll be doing with you. If we want to add a department or to start selling something we haven’t sold before, I look for the best way to do that. Is it better to buy from someone else who produces what we want to sell? If so, under what terms, and can they supply to the extent we need? Or, is it better if we set up production ourselves? If it is, I look for facilities and for the best people to man the operation, and I get it going.”

      “My situation is a combination of those. You’re doing what you’d ordinarily do to set up your own production, except that you’re doing it for me.”

      “Yeah,” he confirmed.

      “And if you decide along the way that you’d be better off producing your own cheesecakes?” Heddy asked.

      Things were more casual tonight. She was in jeans and a plain blouse she wore untucked. He was in tweed slacks and a sport shirt. And yet even sitting in her spotless white kitchen with its bright red and navy blue accents, separated from her cozy living room and Carter only by an island counter, it was still in the back of Heddy’s mind to find the pitfalls in this deal.

      “Not going to happen,” he said without any indication that he’d taken offense at her suspicion. “You make the best cheesecakes and you have the recipes and the techniques. I already told you that I’m fine with you guarding those things. I’m not trying to wiggle my way in and steal your trade secrets so we can turn around and produce the cheesecakes ourselves.”

      Heddy had no idea why the thought of him wiggling his way in to anything seemed a tad alluring but she ignored it and forced herself to focus on more important matters.

      “But even as it is—just tonight—you’re learning things you could copy. Flavor combinations I put together. Brainstorms I’ve had for varieties no one else makes—”

      “Anybody who walked into your shop and tasted something would have that same information, wouldn’t they?”

      Heddy shrugged, conceding his point. She had been fairly revealing in telling him how she got certain degrees of flavor—for instance in her blackberry chocolate cheesecake—and now she wished she hadn’t.

      “Think of the big picture, Heddy,” he advised. “With some things it’s to our advantage to go into production ourselves—to have our own factories—because it would cost us more to buy from someone else. But for this? For one item in a line of gourmet foods? That’s a niche. It’s more cost- and time-efficient to buy what you produce than to find and hire chefs to develop a recipe, to have to continue to operate production after it’s set up, to have the expense of employees, their benefits and what-have-you long-term. Just for cheesecakes. Can’t you see that it makes more sense to do it this way? We’re not conspiring against you. We’re just doing good business that will hopefully benefit us all.”