Annie smiled sweetly as she waited for him to fill out her documents and tried to calculate how many times she’d had the finer points of running a business mansplained to her over the years. It had to be at least high double figures, and that didn’t take into account the number of salesmen who had looked straight past her as they asked to speak to the “man in charge.”

Chapter 40

Annie had never intended the café opening to be a big deal. After all, it was really just a pop-up shop. However, there was something about John Granger’s disapproval that made her abandon her whisper of an opening in favor of a big fat shout, and in double-quick time—and with a lot of favors she would have to repay in free lunches—Annie managed to rustle up a grand opening that Raye could get excited about.

With a little persuasion from Aiden, the folk band who had played at the Captain’s Bounty agreed to play a two-hour afternoon set outside the café. Paul used his charm on the kite surfing club and managed to rustle up a race in the morning—when the wind was due to be at its highest—to the outer marker, kindly deposited by Ely on his early-morning fishing trip. And Pam, who, in addition to being landlady of the Sunken Willow was also the chairwoman of the Willow Bay Council team (mother and daughter were quite the powerhouses), had agreed to cut the ribbon at ten o’clock Saturday morning and declare the Saltwater Café officially open for business.

Annie had reveled in organizing her grand opening; it played to all her list-making skills. Paul had been an absolute star, ferrying garden tables and chairs down from the two pubs and setting them in strategic clusters along the promenade. The Captain’s Bounty and the Sunken Willow had declared they would continue the celebrations throughout the evening with a joint barbecue; Annie was discovering that the residents of Willow Bay needed very little excuse to throw a party.

The weather was due to be cold and windy but bright; just the weather to bring revelers to the beach and make them want a hot drink. On Friday night, Annie was still working to make sure everything was ready. Maeve had offered to make a lemon drizzle loaf cake and a fruited tea-bread to help out, and Annie had made two batches of cookies—oatmeal raisin and chocolate chip, plus a Victoria sponge, a coffee and walnut cake, and a rocky road to go with her brownies-and-chocolate-fudge traybake. As Annie was dolloping clouds of whipped cream onto the bottom half of the Victoria sponge, the phone rang.

“How’s the prep going?” asked Gemma.

“Almost done,” said Annie. “I’m about ready to drop.”