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or mixer.

      If she wanted to be successful, she needed to completely change her game plan and her vision for what the store should be. This wasn’t about educating the cooking public, it was about creating a place that was warm and welcoming. A place people wanted to go.

      And while she was making all these changes to her store, she might want to look at herself, she thought. At least move toward having fun with her work and maybe even her life. Or really, what was the point?

       Four

      Violet arrived at nine-thirty, per usual. The store opened at ten, which gave her a half hour to get things in order. If nothing else, she needed to make sure they had enough cash on hand to make change. Less of a problem in a store where no one bought much of anything, but she had high hopes that eventually they would start to move product.

      She pulled in next to Jenna’s Subaru, then walked to the back door and used her key to let herself in. To the left was the small restroom, to the right, the storage area. Boxes were stacked nearly to the ceiling. Jenna had ordered with the idea that she would be selling things in the first week of business. Once they’d realized the store wasn’t going to be an instant success, it had been too late to cancel the deliveries.

      A sale might work, Violet thought. Although it wouldn’t help the bottom line. Still, they had to start moving inventory or they would physically run out of space to put everything.

      She made her way through the towering stacks of boxes to the entrance of the store. Jenna sat by the kitchen area, a small folding table set up in front of her. There were several pads of paper, a few pens and a waiting coffee from Starbucks.

      Jenna looked up and smiled. “Oh, good. You’re here. I have news. We’re closed.”

      Violet felt her mouth start to drop open. She consciously kept it closed and did her best not to let any emotion show.

      “Okay,” she said slowly.

      “Not permanently,” Jenna added with a smile. “At least I hope not. I’m a little punchy. I didn’t sleep at all last night. Everything’s a mess. It’s my fault. I didn’t plan this at all. The store, I mean. You talked about research and projections and I don’t know what any of that is. I literally stood in the parking lot, saw the ‘For Lease’ sign and called because I didn’t know what else to do.”

      Violet pulled out the second folding chair and sank down. “I’d wondered,” she admitted. “You didn’t seem really prepared.”

      “Clueless is the word you’re looking for,” Jenna said with a laugh. “You can say it. I won’t mind.”

      “I prefer overly optimistic.”

      “Very PC,” Jenna said. “So in my hours of not sleeping, I thought about what needs to happen to make this place successful. I have every penny I own tied up in this store. Failure isn’t an option. I want to close for a couple of days while we come up with a plan and get it ready to implement. Then we’ll have a big reopening.” She leaned forward. “Violet, you’re the only one at this table who knows anything about retail. What do you think we should do?”

      Violet was surprised by the question. Based on what she knew about Jenna, she’d been expecting a chart with a couple of lists.

      “What kind of changes are you open to?” she asked tentatively.

      “Anything. Everything. If you want me to paint the floors green and sell caterpillars, I will.”

      Violet’s mouth twitched. “That might be going a little too far.”

      “Maybe, but you get my point. I know how to cook. I think I do a decent job explaining how to make something. But that’s it. You were right about having stuff to sell. Not just big-ticket items. We need people coming back week after week, buying things. So how do we do that? I want the classes to be more exciting. I want people enthused. Tell me how to make that happen.”

      Violet looked at her boss. Jenna seemed to be telling the truth. She was intense but focused. “The store has a lot of potential,” she began. “A great location.”

      “That’s what I thought. Well, in the fifteen seconds I considered before signing the lease.”

      “You got lucky,” Violet told her.

      “Let’s hope it wasn’t the last time.” Jenna watched as Violet seemed to consider her words. She leaned toward her. “I need you to be honest with me. Just say it. I promise I won’t be upset.”

      Violet drew a breath. “Okay. There are a lot of different things you can do to bring people in and keep them coming back. For starters, lose the white coat. Yes, you’re a chef, but it’s intimidating. You want people to believe they can do what you do. That it’s easy and fun. Dress like your customers. Maybe a little better.”

      Jenna did her best not to wince. “I love my white coat, but I see your point. My only concern is all my nice clothes are going to get stained. Cooking can be messy.”

      Violet thought for a second. “What about aprons? You could wear different ones depending on what we’re cooking. They could be fun and we could sell them.”

      “Sure. If you think anyone will buy them.”

      “They will if they think they’ll help make the meal taste better.”

      “It’s just an apron.”

      “It’s all about making people feel better about what they do.”

      Jenna made a note on her pad. “What’s next?”

      “Recipes. We have to have them to give out. And we should always have a food sample to offer customers along with the recipe so they can go home and make it that night.” She hesitated. “I mentioned this before, but …”

      “Tell me again,” Jenna urged. “What?”

      “We should offer the items necessary to make the recipe. Put it in bags or baskets or whatever. All the ingredients, except the fresh stuff. So if it requires a can of tomatoes and pasta, they buy that here. We can go slightly gourmet, charge more and have a better profit margin. Sure the markup on a can of tomatoes isn’t much, but multiply that by a hundred and it starts to pay the rent.”

      Jenna had never considered selling food. Her first instinct was to say no, but look at where her instincts had gotten her so far.

      “That would work,” she said slowly, thinking about some of her favorite recipes. “Especially when there are hard-to-find ingredients. I could special order items. Although some of them do require refrigeration.”

      “If they have a limited shelf life, we can tell people they have to preorder. Then they can stop by, pick up the food and then go home and cook it.” Violet straightened in her chair. “We could do classes on cooking for company. A few impressive-looking but easy-to-prepare meals. After the class, people could give us a few days’ notice and come by to pick up all the ingredients, then go home and make the meal.”

      “That sounds like fun,” Jenna said. In the past she’d always cooked what interested her, but maybe she could think about what other people would enjoy, as well. She might not think appetizers were that compelling, but then she wasn’t hosting a cocktail party for twenty.

      And speaking of cocktails … “What about a bartender?”

      “I don’t understand.”

      “What if we had a bartender come in and show how to mix different drinks?” She frowned. “That might require a liquor license. But maybe we could set up something with one of the local restaurants around here. All those fancy drinks can seem intimidating.”

      Now Violet was taking notes. “I like that. It would bring in a younger crowd. Not that I don’t love the ladies who lunch.”

      “They do have money.” Jenna thought about her friends. Okay, not friends,

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