Read Online Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever Afters Collection by Violet Duke - Free Book Online
Authors: Violet Duke
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It’s a good promotional tool. Look.” He pointed with his elbow at a mom with two preschool girls. All three were eating double-decker ice cream cones and laughing at the jugglers’ antics. Then he nodded in the direction of another grouping, this time six teens, each holding either a strawberry sundae or a Neapolitan ice cream sandwich.
“B-But, Rob, this is a very small shop. I don’t know what the exact c-c-code regulations are, but I know we’re only allowed an indoor capacity of twenty-five customers.” She glanced around and tried to count heads. “There are over f-fifty people in here!”
“They’ll be out the door and on their way home soon,” he said. “But, the thing is, they’ll all come back in search of new surprises and more great-tasting ice cream. And it won’t be en masse like this. They’ll return in little clusters. They’ll talk amongst themselves and tell their friends. Slowly, our daily visitor average will increase. By the end of the month, we might even double profits. And won’t that just make your uncle and mine do a happy jig in Europe?”
He didn’t give her a chance to answer.
“Sure it will! Before long they’ll be making more money than they know what to do with. Maybe they’ll open up a branch in another Wisconsin town…or even spread their franchise into Illinois or Minnesota or Iowa. The possibilities, my little naysayer, are limitless.”
“Who hired these jugglers?”
“Nobody,” Rob said, starting on an order for a triple fudge ice cream sundae.
“They j-just came in here and started juggling by themselves? Without warning?”
He shot her an irritated look. “No, Elizabeth. The two of them dropped by for a cone and we all got to talking—”
“God, I should’ve known,” she muttered.
“—and I found out they were professional jugglers from Milwaukee, so I asked to see some of their best stunts. And they were great.” He grinned at the two performers appreciatively. “So, I sent Jacques out to buy the ice cream beanbags from the Hobby Shoppe on Fourth and Main—”
“Where is Jacques?” She scanned the room but didn’t see him. Rob just kept on chattering.
“—and I told these guys they’d get free ice cream or a complimentary pastry anytime they came into the shop if they did fifteen minutes of juggling for our customers.” He checked his watch. “Although, I think they decided to use this as practice time because they’ve been at it for over a half hour.”
A beanbag whizzed by her ear, narrowly missing her head. She frowned at Rob.
“They might be getting ready for their grand finale now,” he said.
Amidst a wild flurry of flying beanbags, she gritted her teeth and ducked while searching the room. Her gaze finally came to rest on Jacques who, in time to the hip-hop sounds blaring from the jugglers’ portable stereo, was rolling his shoulders and swiveling his hips as he delivered a tray full of orders to a table of kids and their pleased-looking grandma.
Oh, brother.
“Th-This kind of blatant showmanship is going to get us in trouble, Rob, if anyone complains or if the authorities start checking up on us. We could get f-fined for breaking capacity codes.”
He leaned toward her, his gorgeous brown eyes widening with good humor and impertinence. He pressed his full lips together and got so close she could see the tiny perpendicular lines on their ruddy red surface. The lips twisted into a devious grin, and one heavily lashed eye winked at her, which sent her heart rate on a skyrocket mission to Venus.
“Lighten up, Lizzy,” he whispered in that low, ultra-sexy voice of his.
She tightened her Plain-Jane lips and narrowed her own lackluster eyes at him. “Elizabeth,” she insisted.
He grinned bigger. Leaned closer.
“Oh, my gosh! Rob Gabinarri! Is that really you?”
They both turned toward the counter where a familiar woman stood beaming at Rob. Elizabeth hadn’t seen Rob’s high-school flame in years, but the
“B-But, Rob, this is a very small shop. I don’t know what the exact c-c-code regulations are, but I know we’re only allowed an indoor capacity of twenty-five customers.” She glanced around and tried to count heads. “There are over f-fifty people in here!”
“They’ll be out the door and on their way home soon,” he said. “But, the thing is, they’ll all come back in search of new surprises and more great-tasting ice cream. And it won’t be en masse like this. They’ll return in little clusters. They’ll talk amongst themselves and tell their friends. Slowly, our daily visitor average will increase. By the end of the month, we might even double profits. And won’t that just make your uncle and mine do a happy jig in Europe?”
He didn’t give her a chance to answer.
“Sure it will! Before long they’ll be making more money than they know what to do with. Maybe they’ll open up a branch in another Wisconsin town…or even spread their franchise into Illinois or Minnesota or Iowa. The possibilities, my little naysayer, are limitless.”
“Who hired these jugglers?”
“Nobody,” Rob said, starting on an order for a triple fudge ice cream sundae.
“They j-just came in here and started juggling by themselves? Without warning?”
He shot her an irritated look. “No, Elizabeth. The two of them dropped by for a cone and we all got to talking—”
“God, I should’ve known,” she muttered.
“—and I found out they were professional jugglers from Milwaukee, so I asked to see some of their best stunts. And they were great.” He grinned at the two performers appreciatively. “So, I sent Jacques out to buy the ice cream beanbags from the Hobby Shoppe on Fourth and Main—”
“Where is Jacques?” She scanned the room but didn’t see him. Rob just kept on chattering.
“—and I told these guys they’d get free ice cream or a complimentary pastry anytime they came into the shop if they did fifteen minutes of juggling for our customers.” He checked his watch. “Although, I think they decided to use this as practice time because they’ve been at it for over a half hour.”
A beanbag whizzed by her ear, narrowly missing her head. She frowned at Rob.
“They might be getting ready for their grand finale now,” he said.
Amidst a wild flurry of flying beanbags, she gritted her teeth and ducked while searching the room. Her gaze finally came to rest on Jacques who, in time to the hip-hop sounds blaring from the jugglers’ portable stereo, was rolling his shoulders and swiveling his hips as he delivered a tray full of orders to a table of kids and their pleased-looking grandma.
Oh, brother.
“Th-This kind of blatant showmanship is going to get us in trouble, Rob, if anyone complains or if the authorities start checking up on us. We could get f-fined for breaking capacity codes.”
He leaned toward her, his gorgeous brown eyes widening with good humor and impertinence. He pressed his full lips together and got so close she could see the tiny perpendicular lines on their ruddy red surface. The lips twisted into a devious grin, and one heavily lashed eye winked at her, which sent her heart rate on a skyrocket mission to Venus.
“Lighten up, Lizzy,” he whispered in that low, ultra-sexy voice of his.
She tightened her Plain-Jane lips and narrowed her own lackluster eyes at him. “Elizabeth,” she insisted.
He grinned bigger. Leaned closer.
“Oh, my gosh! Rob Gabinarri! Is that really you?”
They both turned toward the counter where a familiar woman stood beaming at Rob. Elizabeth hadn’t seen Rob’s high-school flame in years, but the
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