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Key Lime Die: A Key West Culinary Cozy - Book 2
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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright 2015 by Maven Publishing & Summer Prescott Books - All rights reserved.
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 1
“No, you must be mistaken, they sell many types of pie but key lime isn’t one of them,” petite, dark-haired, pie shop owner Marilyn Hayes smiled up at Larry, her handyman, from her prone position on the floor.
He shrugged and handed Marilyn a postcard-sized flyer. Putting down the wrench she’d been holding, she took the glossy piece of paper. It was a high resolution photo of a thick, beautiful slice of Key Lime pie that looked as if it could have come right out of Marilyn’s own case. The bold lettering on the card read, “Try our new KEY LIME PIE. The best in Key West!!! In the month of July bring this card in to any Joseph’s Piece of the Pie for a free slice of Key Lime.”
“Where did you get this?” Marilyn’s eyebrows rose in shock as she glanced back up at the senior member of the father-and-son handyman team that she called upon whenever something quirky happened with her appliances. They weren’t really a team anymore, unfortunately. Joe and Larry had a huge disagreement over business practices, after which the younger partner had decided to begin a handyman business of his own.
Marilyn was secretly a bit despondent over the change. Joe, the son, was slow-moving and a bit lackadaisical when it came to his work ethic, but Larry was of such massive girth that he had a difficult time actually fixing things. Getting on the floor wasn’t an option for the heavy gentleman, which was why Marilyn currently sat on the floor taking directions from him to fix one of her ovens, while he indulged in a slice of her Key Lime perfection. This was the third time in the last month that she’d needed repairs on an oven, but shelling out $4,000 for a new one, represented a leap of financial faith that she really wasn’t prepared to consider at the moment.
“I’m sorry, did you say something?” Lost in thought, Marilyn had been staring at the card and hadn’t caught what Larry had said.
“I said that someone handed it to me on the street when I passed the store.”
“You don’t usually go past Joseph’s Piece of the Pie, to get here, do you?” she asked, confused.
“Nope,” Larry shook his head. “They weren’t in front of Joseph’s, they were in front of your store.”
“What?” Marilyn let the wrench that she’d just picked back up, drop noisily to the floor.
“I thought that it was a new promotion for you, that’s why I took it,” the big man shrugged.
Standing quickly, Marilyn dashed through the store, and out of the front door, looking up and down the street. Not seeing anyone passing out flyers or running away looking guilty, she trained her gaze upon Joseph’s pie shop, two blocks away, frowning and tapping her foot while she tried to come up with a plan as to how to handle this unfortunate development.
Joseph Hernandez had opened his third and most elaborate pie shop just down the street from SubLime Sweets a little over a year ago. She’d been upset at first, but Joseph didn’t carry Key Lime, so she didn’t worry about his shop cutting into her market share. There were enough tourists and locals alike for both shops to thrive. There were rumors that Joseph was about to open a fourth shop but Marilyn had paid very little attention to Piece of the Pie until roughly two minutes ago.
She had always felt that there was something unique and personal about her shop, a chic but comfortable little space where customers enjoyed lingering while enjoying their pie. Slowly walking back into her store, still holding the shiny piece of paper, at a loss as to how to handle the situation.
Later in the day, after only one customer and one tourist looking for the surf shop down the street came into SubLime Sweets, Marilyn realized that she was becoming far too obsessed with the situation, deciding it would just be better to call the other shop to find out what exactly was going on. Clearly, whatever Joseph had cooked up was negatively impacting her business, and she had to get an idea of his approach in order to know how to combat this unpleasant reality.
“Joseph’s Piece of the Pie, this is Rachel speaking, how can I help you?” The voice on the other end sounded young and fresh.
Marilyn was calling from her cell phone so the store phone number didn’t pop up on caller ID. “Hi, I just received a flyer for a free piece of Key Lime pie.”
“Yes,” Rachel said with a youthful smile shimmering all the way through the telephone line.
“I didn’t know you sold Key Lime pie…” Marilyn said trying to “innocently” gather information from the unsuspecting girl.
“We’ve just created an amazing new recipe, it’s better than any Key Lime pie in Key West.”
“Oh,” Marilyn was frowning, but trying to keep her tone light and positive. “I usually just go to the store down the street from you, SubLime Sweets for my Key Lime pies.”
“Well…from what I hear, they have an okay Key Lime pie, if you don’t mind something kind of…mediocre. If you want something really great, you should come into our store,” the girl suggested enthusiastically.
Marilyn felt her throat constricting and went white with anger. She inhaled deeply, hoping to regain her composure before speaking again.
“Well, I’ll keep that in mind, thanks,” she said hanging up the phone before she said something that she’d regret.
Mediocre?? No one had ever called her pie mediocre. This type of cutthroat business technique was unheard of in this tightly-knit community. People supported one another, knowing that professional misbehavior would kill any hope of succeeding and destroy the very friendships and associations that made Key West such a wonderful place to be.
Marilyn wanted to reject the idea that anyone had coached the young girl to say those unkind things about SubLime Sweets, and instructed employees to hand out flyers that seemed specifically targeted at destroying her business., but reality was there, in her hand. She decided to talk directly to Joseph to find out what was going on. Perhaps the whole thing looked much worse than it actually was. Maybe she was simply overreacting, or maybe the girl who answered the phone had been trying to do the right thing and had just made a mistake in saying what she had. Wanting to be upfront and above-board, she called on her store phone this time.
“Joseph’s Piece of the Pie, this is Rachel speaking, how can I help you?”
“Hi Rachel, this is Marilyn Hayes from SubLime Sweets, how are you today?” she worked to make certain that her tone was pleasant and conversational.
“Hello Ms. Hayes, I’m jus
t peachy, thanks. How may I help you today?” the girl replied, cheery as ever.
Marilyn clenched her teeth, trying to give the young lady the benefit of the doubt.
“I was hoping to speak with Mr. Hernandez.”
“Of course,” there was a brief pause. “Did I just speak to you a moment ago?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Marilyn lowered her voice.
Another pause. “Hmm…my mistake,” she said, not sounding convinced. “I’ll put you right through.”
Marilyn waited for what felt like a lifetime, tapping her fingernails on the stainless steel counter tops in her commercial kitchen, pacing back and forth as far as the cord of the bakery phone would stretch, watching the front door, hoping for customers. She had been wondering where they’d all gone, and now she had a potential explanation. Gazing at all the pies she’d made that morning before opening the store, she shook her head in disgust and worry. If no one came in, every one of them would go to waste.
Marilyn plated a slice of pie and grabbed a fork. As she continued to listen to tinny jazz while on hold, she let her fork sink into the creamy goodness, placing the luscious bite in her mouth and letting it melt. There was no way in the world that Joseph’s pie or anyone else’s tasted as good as hers. She’d spent years crafting the perfect recipe and it was perfect. Her confidence slowly crept back and she realized that she’d have to make plans for how to deal with this new form of competition.
Marilyn’s Key Lime pie was so good that Joseph could give away as much free pie as he wanted and hers would still win the day, but she had to get the word out to potential customers. SubLime Sweets couldn’t handle a huge financial hit, she’d been doing well, but losing customers just wasn’t something she could afford. She sighed, tired of being on terminal hold.
“Marilyn Hayes,” a masculine voice, with just a trace of accent, drawled through the receiver.
“Joseph?” she asked, adrenalin shooting through her veins.
“The one and only,” he agreed. “What can I do you for?”
“I was given one of your flyers this morning,” she replied, unable to keep a trace of accusation from her voice.
“What flyer would that be?” he asked easily, as though he felt no conviction in his soul.
“The one where you announce your new Key Lime menu item,” she reminded him, exasperated.
“Yes, that was a big step for us, but it had to happen. We were just missing too much business. I’m sure you know all about that, you’ve been seeing the rewards of the Key Lime business for a long time now,” his nonchalant manner rankled.
Marilyn sighed internally, her jaw clenched.
“Actually, I’m calling to point out that your employee, Rachel, described my pie as being mediocre when she thought I was a customer with questions,” Marilyn was working to maintain some semblance of civility.
“Yeah, she told me about that - said you called the shop incognito to pump her for information,” Joseph laughed and Marilyn heard the distinctive wheeze of a chronic smoker.
“I was hardly pumping her for information, I was doing my due diligence after my maintenance man was handed one of your flyers outside the front door of my shop,” she fumed.
“Riiiiight…” he scoffed, sounding as though he didn’t believe her. “I’ll check on that, but I sincerely doubt that could be the case. She’s a good girl that Rachel.”
There was an uncomfortable silence across the line.
“So you’re really putting my Key Lime on your menu?” Marilyn reiterated, thoroughly disgusted.
“It’s not like you have exclusive rights to that particular dish,” he chuckled, infuriating her. “Nothing personal you understand, just business. I’ll touch base with Rachel, but, Marilyn, if you have any questions in the future, just feel free to just ask. We have nothing to hide,” the smug little man said magnanimously.
After she’d hung up, Marilyn fought to remain calm. Joseph Hernandez had been insufferable, but she had to get past that and focus on the issue at hand, how to fight her way back to the top of the Key Lime market.
Chapter 2
Saturday was typically the busiest day of the week, with a non-stop flow of locals and tourists alike, so Marilyn’s beautiful blonde daughter, Tiara came in to help with the rush. People came to Key West for weekend getaways, for conferences, and of course, for the beach, and most of them seemed to end up in Marilyn’s pie shop at some point during their stay.
She prepped three quarters of the usual amount of stock pies and goodies before opening the store on this particular Saturday, due to the profound slowdown that Joseph had caused. There was no line to get in the door as yet, but Marilyn refused to worry. Mornings were typically slower - afternoons posed the greatest challenge in getting everyone served in a timely fashion. She fiddled with décor items, adjusting the mermaids adorning her walls, moving them a tiny bit, then moving them back when she realized they had actually been hanging straight all along.
“So this thing with the pie shop down the road, do you think it’s serious?” Tiara had the same worried look on her face that her mother had been wearing all week. Business had been getting worse, now down to a mere handful of customers on most days. There were some of her regulars who delighted in shunning the new popular Key Lime option and fancied themselves as supporters of the underdog, but some of them had been all too eager to share the details of the other store’s success.
“The line is all the way out the door and down the street, you just wouldn’t believe it,” one “helpful” patron had said to Marilyn after she’d order her single slice. “I asked one person and they told me it was at least twenty-five minutes to the front. Well, that’s just ridiculous if you ask me, when there’s perfectly good pie right here,” the elderly woman asserted.
It had cut Marilyn to the core to hear her pie described as “perfectly good.”
Coming out of her despairing daze, she answered her daughter’s question. “It certainly seems serious,” Marilyn couldn’t keep the concern from her voice. “I don’t know what to do. Our customer flow has dropped to a slow trickle. I thought today would be different. There are so many tourists, surely Joseph’s can’t have handed out flyers to all of them,” she shook her head, dismayed.
“Mom,” Tiara was looking at the register computer. She’d pulled up a page from the internet and was studying it closely.
“When I search for Key Lime pie in Key West, a huge banner comes up for their store,” she pointed to the screen.
“How did they manage that?” Marilyn asked moving closer to look. Tiara ignored her question.
“So, then I search for SubLime Sweets, and their banner comes up again,” she put in the search term to illustrate.
“Suddenly I don’t feel so well,” Marilyn blanched, realizing the might of Joseph’s financial power. He owned three stores and apparently had enough money to invest a significant amount into putting her out of business. “Why would he do that? There are plenty of customers for both of us. How does this man sleep at night?” Marilyn kicked the hard leg of her front counter.
“Oh my goodness, Mom…” Tiara was absorbed again in her internet search. “It’s actually worse than we thought…” she trailed off and Marilyn knew that the news wasn’t good if it had rattled her tough-as-nails daughter.
Marilyn looked at the screen again, not understanding what she was seeing at first, then her eyes widened. It was a rating and review system for her shop and there were over ten recent reviews from the last few weeks, where people had blasted SubLime Sweets. Each reviewer had given Marilyn’s shop no more than one star.
“SubLime Sweets is anything but. I went in to buy a pie for my mother’s birthday and not only was the pie terrible, but the woman behind the desk was on her phone the whole time, then she sneezed right into her hands and did NOT wash them. Gross. I will not be going back.” –Krista G.
“Much better Key Lime pie place down the street, Joseph’s Piece of the Pie, really good K
ey Lime pie and much more hygienic!!” –George L.
“Way overpriced for what you get.” –Ralph P.
The list went on down the page.
“What can we do? How do we fix this? There’s no way that these reviews are real,” Marilyn glanced from the computer screen to her daughter and back again. “These are obviously fabricated. There must be something I can do or somewhere I can report this.”
“I’ll look into it,” Tiara said, beginning another search. “Why would they go to these lengths? It makes no sense. Do you even know this guy?”
“No, I’ve talked to him casually maybe a handful of times before calling him this week.”
Tiara looked up from the computer and thoughtfully regarded her mother.
“Do you still have that free pie flyer?”
Marilyn pulled it out from under the cash drawer. “Here it is, why?”
“I’ll be right back,” her daughter made a beeline for the front door, flyer in hand. Marilyn paced restlessly in front of the register.
When Tiara returned, she was carrying a piece of Key Lime pie from Joe’s store. “What did you do?” her mother worried.
“They are ridiculously crowded, and when I got my free slice of pie they also gave me this,” she held up a smaller follow-up coupon for “25% off a full Key Lime pie until the end of August!”
“Now,” Tiara took out an extra fork and handed it to Marilyn. “Shall we?”
Marilyn slid her fork into the creamy texture of the pie that looked just like hers. Raising her forkful to her nose, she took a whiff. It smelled like hers. She put the bite in her mouth. It tasted like hers.
“This is my pie!” Marilyn exclaimed, frowning.
“For a fraction of the price,” Tiara stared at the plate and put her fork down. Mother and daughter looked at each other.