Part 5 (1/2)
”We'll catch up with each other soon,” her mother promised as she put her empty tea mug on the kitchen counter.
Rachel nodded. ”Soon.”
After her mother left, Rachel dug out the sewing machine, spent twenty minutes relearning how to thread the needle, then set to work cutting and st.i.tching the floral fabric. Her mother had been right. Four yards of the grape leaf print remained, almost enough for another Easter dress. Definitely enough for two hundred three-by-three inch double thickness triangles. She also found several large spools of brand new ribbon in a.s.sorted colors. Each winegla.s.s holder took only a couple of minutes to make. The main goal was to secure one side of the triangle to the other, not a huge project. She'd sewn harder patterns before. She'd just never had to st.i.tch together somany.
Early the next morning she arrived at the cupcake shop in a predawn daze. She'd had no sleep, but, hey, she did have over two hundred triangle holsters.
”You sew?” Andi cupped her hand over her mouth but couldn't cover her surprise.
”I'm not Martha Stewart or Suzy Homemaker, but I can st.i.tch together two pieces of material-yes.”
”Rachel the seamstress.” Kim laughed. ”Who would have thought?”
”Don't tell anyone,” Rachel warned. ”It will ruin my image.”
”We wouldn't want anyone to know that Rachel, the popular party girl, is actually a 'plain Jane' in disguise,” Kim teased.
”There's nothing plain about Rachel,” Andi said as she stocked the display case with a fresh batch of lemonblueberry cupcakes. ”Right, Rach?”
Rachel hesitated, and a cold, p.r.i.c.kling sensation crept up her spine. ”I hope not.”
Kim pointed to the pile of st.i.tched fabric triangles. ”What do we do with these?”
”We need to sew ribbons on each end to turn them into necklaces the customers can wear,” Rachel instructed. She held up the first one she'd finished as an example and put it around her neck. ”See? I can carry a winegla.s.s with no hands. The perfect souvenir after customers eat their cupcake. They can use the gla.s.s to taste wine at all the winery booths.”
”Only problem is we don't have winegla.s.ses,” Andi said, flicking the switch to start brewing a pot of coffee.
”Kim and I are headed to the gla.s.sblower's studio now,” Rachel told her. ”You concentrate on making the rest of the cupcakes.”
”Wait till you taste this new batch.” Andi smiled and waved a hand toward the kitchen. ”I created a new recipe.”
”You didn't stick crab in the batter, did you?” Rachel asked, scrunching her nose.
Andi laughed. ”No, of course not. This is my new creation for the Romance Writers group called a Recipe for Love. It contains bittersweet chocolate, chocolate chips, and whipped cream, and it's topped with a Hershey Kiss.”
”Sounds good,” Rachel replied. ”I bet they buy a ton of them.”
Andi wriggled her eyebrows. ”That's the plan.”
”The Lonely Hearts Cupcake Club might need the 'Recipe for Love,' too,” Kim added.
Rachel reached beneath the counter, pulled out the Cupcake Diary, and wrote: Recipe for Love. ”I might need that recipe myself,” Rachel mused.
”We could all use a little more love,” Andi a.s.sured her.
RACHEL AND KIM borrowed Andi's car, followed Mike's directions, and drove to the gla.s.s shop. They would have taken the Cupcake Mobile except neither one of them knew how to drive a vehicle with a clutch, a problem they would have to deal with later.
When Rachel stepped through the door of Astoria Gla.s.s Art, her gaze was drawn to the fabulous array of color adorning the walls, the tabletops, the shelves. There were gla.s.s sculptures, fluted bowels, vases, trays, candleholders, ornaments, beads, jewelry, and . . . winegla.s.ses.
Kim walked toward a table of blue gla.s.s flowers with intricate petals and leaves. ”This is amazing. Do you see how the gla.s.s is pulled and twisted?”
”Looks like a stretched piece of blueberry taffy,” Rachel said, keeping her distance from the all-too-fragile pieces.
”I wonder if I could create something like this for the tops of our cupcakes using crystallized sugar and water.”
”If you did, the cupcakes would be too pretty to eat,” Rachel told her. ”But you might win first place in an art show.”
”I'm going to do it,” Kim vowed, her green eyes lit with resolve as she turned around.
A woman in her midthirties with a sandy blond ponytail walked toward them. ”Can I help you?”
Rachel nodded. ”Are you the owner?”
”Yes. Danielle Quinn.”
Rachel thought the idea of asking the gla.s.sblower for help seemed logical when she'd talked with Mike. Now she hesitated, and felt self-doubt creeping in. ”I . . . uh . . . we . . . are the co-owners of Creative Cupcakes on Marine Drive, and we have a booth this weekend at the Crab, Seafood, and Wine Festival.”
Danielle rolled her eyes. ”Twenty thousand people are expected to attend this year. The traffic through town has been horrible. It wouldn't be so bad if they came in my shop and bought something, but most of them are only interested in wine, not the gla.s.s.”
”Which is why we're here,” Rachel told her. ”We would like to sell our cupcakes in winegla.s.ses to encourage more sales.”
”You're here to buy my winegla.s.ses?” Danielle asked, her expression eager. ”How many do you need?”
”We can't afford to buy them,” Rachel said, shaking her head.
The gla.s.sblower put her hands on her hips and scowled. ”You don't expect me to donate them for free, do you?”
”What if we sell them for you at the festival?” Rachel suggested.
”No, this isn't going to work. I don't even know you.” Picking up a pair of pliers and a long metal blowpipe, she walked toward the electric furnace at the back of the shop.
”But you know Mike Palmer and his brother, Tristan, from the Grape Mountain Winery,” Rachel said, following her. ”They highly recommended your work.”
”They did?” Danielle paused, then took two steps back. ”When did you speak to them? What did they say?”
Rachel smiled with the satisfaction of every performer who knows exactly when they've hooked an audience. ”I spoke to Mike last night, and he said his brother would work with us and sell his wine along with our cupcakes. He said Tristan thinks your gla.s.sware is the best.”
”He did?” The gla.s.sblower drew in her breath. ”And you said Tristan will be there?”
”Yes, he has his own booth but will keep popping over to supply ours. Mike said you might want to come to the festival and sell your gla.s.ses with our cupcakes and Tristan's wine.”
Kim nodded in agreement. ”We'll all be working together.”
Rachel shot Kim a mischievous look for emphasizing the last word, but it worked. Danielle shut down the furnace, called in some helpers to man the gla.s.s shop, and prepared to join them at the festival.