LITMIR.BIZ

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cookies beyond Fool’s Gold, we’ll need a process. Plus, the sales aren’t going to be regular. So hiring someone means having to fill their workday with other things when we don’t have custom orders.”

      “You need part-time help,” Madeline said. “Someone who would be willing to come in when you had orders.”

      “You should hire teenagers,” Taryn offered. “Young ones. A group of fourteen-year-old girls would love to come in and decorate cookies for a few hours. They could do it in groups. It would give them a nice break from babysitting and offer them a chance to earn some money.”

      Jo arrived with their lunches. After everyone had their food, Shelby picked up her fork. “I never thought of teenagers,” she admitted. “But fourteen. Isn’t that too young to be working?” Training wouldn’t be an issue. It was basically coloring, but on cookies.

      “There are strict labor laws in the state of California,” Felicia announced. “They could only work for a couple of hours a day. There are also caps on the number of hours in a week. They’d each need a work permit. If you were in the entertainment industry, it would be easier, but it’s still doable.”

      “How can you possibly know that?” Madeline asked.

      Felicia shrugged. “I can’t help it. I read.”

      “I don’t remember an article on child labor laws in my latest issue of Vogue, but maybe I missed it.” Taryn smiled at Felicia. “You are always entertaining and I say that with love.”

      “Then I accept it the same way.”

      Shelby laughed. “Okay, now I have a starting place for my research. Thank you.”

      “I can be a temporary worker,” Isabel offered. “When I’m on bed rest. It’s not like I’ll have a lot to fill my day.”

      “Poor you,” Taryn said, hugging her friend. “I’ll visit. That will be entertaining.”

      “Yes, but not nearly enough. I’ll be going over the books for the store and ordering inventory, but I think I’ll still have some extra time. Decorating cookies would be fun.”

      “If you didn’t eat them all,” Madeline teased.

      Isabel wrinkled her nose. “These days I’m more into salty foods than sweet ones.”

      Shelby thought about Isabel’s cravings for pretzel bread and figured her cookies would be safe.

      “Thanks for the offer,” she said. “I may take you up on it.”

      “Assuming you have time for your new business venture,” Felicia said. “What with your love life heating up.”

      Everyone turned to Shelby, who was busy gaping at Felicia.

      “What are you talking about?” she asked, just as Taryn murmured, “That would be my question.”

      “You’re seeing someone?” Madeline asked, sounding hurt.

      Shelby shook her head. “I’m not. There’s no one.”

      “I heard you were out with Aidan over the weekend,” Felicia said. “I’m sure my source is very reliable.”

      “Oh, that.” Shelby shook her head. “No romance. Our relationship is strictly as friends.” While Madeline knew the details of her past and Shelby was fairly sure there were plenty of rumors, she wasn’t one to discuss her problems in a crowd.

      “I don’t have any guy friends,” she said by way of edging around the truth. “Aidan doesn’t have any female friends. We thought hanging out would be good for us.”

      Madeline relaxed, but everyone else stared at her as if she had grown a second and possibly third head.

      “Why?” Isabel asked. “You have us.”

      “It’s different. A male perspective is nice.”

      “She’s right,” Taryn added. “I love my boys very much. While their advice is always different than yours, sometimes it’s helpful to hear it. I think all women should have male friends.”

      Taryn’s “boys” were three retired football players who were also her business partners at Score PR, but Shelby still appreciated the support.

      “See? It’s not weird.”

      “It’s kind of weird,” Destiny said, “but good for you. Just don’t go falling for him romantically. From all I’ve heard, he’s not the long-term-relationship type. I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

      “It’s not romantic,” Shelby assured her, knowing in that statement she was being completely honest. Aidan was a great guy. She’d enjoyed their afternoon together. And sure, he was good-looking and funny, but they were friends. Nothing more. She had a plan and nothing was going to stand in the way of success.

      * * *

      ONE OF THE advantages of being part owner of a business was having access to it during off-hours. So while The Man Cave was technically closed, Aidan had a key, which explained why he and Shelby were playing pool at ten o’clock on a Saturday morning.

      He didn’t know how it was possible, but Shelby had admitted she’d never played pool before, so he’d explained about striped versus solid balls and the basic rules of the game. Now Shelby was practicing how to use her cue stick to hit the cue ball. It wasn’t going well.

      “I think it’s moving,” she said as her stick sailed past the cue ball and she stumbled forward.

      Aidan held in a grin. “It’s not moving. You have to line up your stick with the ball.”

      “But what about where I want it to go?”

      “Let’s get you to where you can hit the cue ball consistently, then we’ll worry about direction.”

      She glanced at him over her shoulder. “You sound very patient, but I know you’re laughing at me on the inside.”

      “Just a little.”

      She wore jeans and a blue sweatshirt. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she wasn’t wearing much makeup. But when she smiled at him, her whole face lit up.

      “Okay,” she said with a sigh. “Tell me again what I’m doing wrong.”

      Aidan moved toward her. “Better yet, I’ll show you.”

      He positioned the cue ball about a foot from the center pocket, then gently pushed her forward. “Stand with your feet a little bit more than shoulder-width apart. Place your left hand on the table. Bend your fingers like I taught you and rest the cue on your fingers.”

      She did as he instructed, then moved her right arm back and forth. The cue stick moved with her.

      “Now move with a little more force.”

      He watched as she drew back the stick, then thrust it forward. It barely grazed the cue ball. The white ball jumped a little to the left and came to a stop. Shelby groaned, but Aidan saw what she’d been doing wrong.

      “You’re moving smoothly in practice, but as soon as you try to put some force behind the movement, you pull up the end.”

      “And that’s supposed to make sense to me?”

      He chuckled. “I’ll show you.”

      He moved behind her so he could hold the cue stick with her. He rested his left hand by her left hand and put his right on top of hers.

      “This is your practice movement.” He slowly moved the stick back and forth, keeping it even. “This is what you do when you’re trying to shoot.”

      He raised the back of the stick as he brought it forward. “You need to be consistent. There’s no pressure.”

      “That’s so geeky,” she muttered. “Okay, let’s try this again.”

      She

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