Chapter 3

 

Sam edged her way between the end of her worktable and the wall, holding a large cardboard carton filled with the satin-boxed chocolates as high above the fray as she could manage. Becky shifted aside to let her pass.

“I really wasn’t joking when I wished for an extra thousand square feet in this kitchen,” she said, puffing a little with the exertion, wishing she could magically lose twenty pounds.

Becky looked as if she wanted to voice an opinion but substituted a weary smile instead. Sam sympathized. They could all complain about the crowded conditions but it wasn’t changing anything.

“Getting these three cartons out the door will help,” Sam said. “I’m taking them to the airport now, putting them safely in the hands of Book It Travel and one of their jets, then I’ll deliver the Chaves wedding cake. I’m going to figure out a solution for this—I promise—as soon as I have more than four consecutive minutes without my hands full or six people needing my attention all at once.”

The phone rang, two lines lighting up, to punctuate her statement.

“Tell Jen to take messages. If I stop to take calls now I’ll miss that plane.” She hipped the back door open and wrestled the carton to the back of her delivery van.

Strapping the three large cartons against one side of the van and bracing the wedding cake so nothing could slide around and create a disaster, Sam got in and started up. As she pulled out of the alley, she spotted the deli from which Beau’s lunchtime gift had come. Had she actually eaten her sandwich? She couldn’t remember. No time to think about it now. She joined the line of cars slowly creeping their way through the four-way stop at the corner and kept her eye on the dashboard clock.

The Taos airport sits out on a high, flat plain crowded with sagebrush. Over the years, several small airlines had attempted scheduled flights but the cost was high and passengers few so most only lasted a short time. Presently, only private aircraft came and went with any regularity, Mr. Bookman’s among the most notable.

Although he maintained Book It Travel’s corporate offices in Houston, Stan Bookman had told Sam his reason for living in Taos was because he could. He’d grown up in the area and loved it. With high-desert sage on the west, the Sangre de Cristo Mountains on the east, world-class skiing practically out his back door in the winter, cool summers that were hard to find most other places—well, she couldn’t disagree with his reasoning at all.

In the age of jet travel and internet bookings, there was no reason for him to stay in some big city if he didn’t want to. His fleet of private jets catered to the sorts of people who flew to Paris for lunch or London for a show, with no more drama than most people gave to driving to their local dining and entertainment locales.

She pulled alongside the curb at the small terminal building, caught the eye of Herman, the fixed base operator’s front-counter man, and he waved her through the side gate onto the tarmac. Deliveries from her colorfully decorated bakery van were becoming commonplace out here. A small Learjet sat on the apron and Sam could see coolers of food being loaded aboard. She pulled alongside and Book It Travel’s locally based crew chief met her at the foot of the retractable stairs. He called a couple of mechanics over and they graciously took the large boxes from the back of her van.

“These are for the Houston office,” she said, consulting the order form in her folder. “I assume I have the correct flight?”

“You got it, Sam. Your timing was perfect—we take off in ten minutes.”

As he said it, she saw a power couple in designer casual wear emerge from the terminal. They’d obviously made a shopping stop at the Overland Sheepskin Company’s large retail store on the north end of town. Both wore the latest in lambskin jackets, the lady sporting a pair of turquoise-trimmed boots that must have cost well over a thousand dollars. The man carried a spacious leather garment bag, which he handed off to the crew chief with hardly a glance. For a flash of a moment Sam wondered what it would be like, shopping and traveling on that scale, being the person who walked out the door and onto her plane without the hassles of parking, check-in or miles-long security lines. She couldn’t imagine what kind of money it took to do this.

Well, perhaps if Bookman’s contract continued beyond the initial one-year term and if the money continued to roll in, maybe she and Beau would plan some kind of classy jaunt, if only to see the lifestyle up close once. On the other hand, ostentation wasn’t her style and she’d more likely figure out some charitable cause for the extra money.

She closed the van’s rear doors, hopped in and drove back toward the highway. The wedding cake was due at one of the hotels up at Taos Ski Valley and she headed that direction, chafing a little at the extra time these two out-of-the-way deliveries were taking from the massive stack of orders back at the shop.

The road to Taos Ski Valley felt longer than ever but in reality it took Sam all of thirty minutes to reach the Bern Haus Hotel and get the four-tier cake set up in the ballroom designated for the wedding reception. With no delicate cargo aboard now, she let her foot get a little heavy on the gas during the return trip. She’d just passed the turnoff for home (sigh …) and slowed to match the traffic where the road narrowed and roadside businesses began to appear when her phone chimed.

She saw Zoë Chartrain’s name on the readout. She’d had precious little time for her best friend in recent weeks. She tapped the speaker button so she could keep both hands on the wheel. The traffic light ahead turned yellow and she slowed.

“I know you’re busy,” Zoë said, her words rushing out. “I’m not going to take up your time, wanted to just literally say hi, and I’ll let you go.”

“It’s okay. I’m at a stoplight at the moment and there’s a funeral procession crawling through the intersection.”

“How’ve you been? Work must be crazy, huh?”

“It is. There’s no denying it. We’re crammed together in the shop … I know I need more space … and I’ve found no time at all to think about what to do.”

“Darryl’s kind of at a lull in the construction business,” Zoë said. “If you’d like to talk to him about it …?”

Sam mentally kicked herself. The idea of asking her best friend’s husband to quote the cost of renovations should have occurred to her the moment they moved that second worktable into the kitchen.

“It’s a great idea, Zoë. I’m not sure when—”

“Are you still eating, these days?” Zoë asked it with a laugh in her voice.

“Sitting at a table? Barely.”

“So, how about you and Beau come over for dinner tomorrow night? We are blessedly free of guests this week and it would be my pleasure to cook for you guys. You’d have all evening to fill us in and chat about the expansion.”

It was rare when Zoë and Darryl’s bed and breakfast was empty, more rare when the four of them got together as couples. Screw the workload at the shop, Sam decided. Tomorrow, she would force herself to leave the minute the front door was locked.

“Six-thirty?” Zoë was asking.

“Let’s do it!” Traffic began to crawl forward and they ended the call.

Half of Sam worried she wouldn’t finish the next batch of chocolates if she didn’t put in some evenings this week; the other little voice inside reminded her that she needed a personal life. Plus, she would be accomplishing something for the business at the same time.

At Civic Plaza Drive, with traffic backed up as far as the eye could see, she made a hasty decision, turned right, and passed the sheriff’s department. Feeling a little guilty that she’d had no time for him earlier in the day, she decided telling Beau about dinner with the Chartrains was a good enough reason to pop in at his office. When a parking spot on the street opened up, it seemed the quick stop was meant to be.