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Violetta had always wanted to own a candy shop, but not just any candy shop; she wanted to be a world-class chocolatier. She wanted pretty truffles, pralines, chocolate bars, chocolate oranges, caramels, and different flavours of bouchee. She had been looking for the right location for months. When she found a cute little shop in Soho, she figured it was a great place to get started. It cost her a small fortune, but what else was she going to do with that trust fund?
Her shop, nestled between a pub and whatever was on the other side, Violetta planned for a grand opening on Easter and made lots of intricate chocolate eggs, boxes of assorted pralines, and fancy, chocolate-dipped marshmallows. The walls were painted a lovely array of pastels, and displays kept the chocolate from melting; she had even set aside a workstation where patrons could watch the magic unfold.
She was figuring out how many more chocolate eggs she needed to make when there was a light tapping on the window. Violetta wasn’t terribly familiar with her neighbours, except the ones at the pub, but the man looked like a shopkeeper, dressed in whites and tans, so she unlocked the door and opened it just enough to be able to speak to the man without giving him the opportunity to push his way inside.
“I’m sorry, we’re not open until tomorrow,” Violetta said sweetly.
“Oh, that’s lovely!” The man said, sniffing the chocolate-scented air. “I am just here to welcome you to the neighbourhood. The bookshop on the corner is mine,” he pointed down the block to the bookshop on the corner. Violetta had never seen it open before.
“I wasn’t sure that bookshop was open. It seems closed every time I’ve walked by.”
“Yes. Our hours can get a bit complicated, but I live over the shop, so someone is always there,” the man smiled, which made Violetta smile. He seemed very nice. “I’m so sorry, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m AZ Fell, and you are?”
“Violetta Buenavista. It’s nice to meet you, Mr Fell. Would you like to come in?”
“I wouldn’t want to bother you,” he said, tugging on his waistcoat.
“It’s no bother.”
The man stepped inside once Violetta opened the door, examining each batch of chocolates. “These are all lovely, my dear. Did you learn in France?”
Violetta did, in fact, learn in France, and said so.
“You can always tell. They’re just something so delicate. I’ll have to stop by tomorrow and buy a few sweets.”
“Here,” Violetta went behind the counter and grabbed a small box, large enough for four pieces of chocolate. “For being the first neighbour nice enough to welcome me, I’ll give you whatever you like.”
“Oh, I couldn’t!”
“I insist,” she said, putting a shiny truffle decorated with sea salt into the box. “This one is my recommendation. Let’s get your other three.”
After much deliberation and a few suggestions from Violetta, Mr Fell took his chocolates and bid her good day. The interaction left a smile on Violetta’s face for the rest of the afternoon. He seemed delightful, a snappy dresser, and could appreciate the time and care she put into her creations. She was just about to leave for the day when there was a loud knock at the door.
She answered the door, again opening it only wide enough for a conversation. This man looked grumpy, dressed in black, and wore sunglasses even though it was dark. His red hair was carefully styled to look as if it weren't.
“I’m sorry, we open tomorrow,” she told the grumpy man.
There was some mumbling before the man cleared his throat. “I know,” he said slowly. “I just needed to find out if you gave these to a man in white with curly hair. Stands about this tall.”
“Mr Fell?”
The man nodded. “Thought so.”
“Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing. Just chocolate makes him hyper.”
“Oh. Sorry?”
“I’ll take care of it. Bye.”