Annie's Rainbow - Fern Michaels [40]
Parker cleared his throat. “I thought I’d give you a rundown on the coffee business before we fly out to Kona tomorrow.”
“I’m all ears,” Annie said as she propped her elbows on the table. “I hope you’re going to tell me something I don’t know.”
“Daniel didn’t say you were a smart-ass.”
“Daniel doesn’t know me. He’s got great buns. Good, sturdy legs, too. He’s a nice guy. Not my type, though.” You need to think about Peter Newman and the bank money. He’s going to nail you when you get back.
“Parker, I’ve been teasing you. I don’t know what in the world got into me. I’ve never behaved this way in my life. I’ve always been a very boring, bookish person. I take my responsibilities very seriously. Something must have happened to my hormones when I set foot on this island. I apologize for my ... tacky behavior. I did enjoy the kiss, though. Could we just forget everything that came before and after and concentrate on the reason I’m here.”
“How’s that going to work? Daniel said you were my destiny. He never lies.”
“He does so lie. Everyone lies at some point or another.”
“I don’t,” Parker said virtuously.
“We were going to talk about coffee.”
“Fine, let’s talk about coffee. For starters, the coffee grown here in Maui is not Kona coffee. The only place in the world that grows Kona coffee is the Kona district of the Big Island. We’ve been growing it in the rich volcanic soil on the slopes of Mauna Loa and Hualaalai for more than a hundred and fifty years. We tend our trees by hand and we’re very selective about the ripe red cherries we pick. After we pick the cherries, the outer skins and pulp are removed in the pulping mill and the beans are put out to dry. When the beans dry completely the outer parchment skin and the inner silverskin are removed. We grade by size and density before we sew them in the burlap bags that carry our certificate. We ship to roasters around the world. We have our own roaster also. It’s up to the clients if they want us to roast it or not. If you buy our coffee, do you want us to roast it or will you have it shipped to a roaster on the mainland? That’s my spiel. My father made me memorize it when I was a kid. Did it sound rehearsed and flat?”
“Yes, but that’s okay. Depends on the price,” Annie said.
“Kona coffee is expensive. We sell it for twenty-two dollars a pound. I’ll sell it to you for sixteen and we roast. Providing you buy in thousand-pound increments. I’ll drop an additional two dollars a pound for every additional thousand pounds you buy. How many shops do you have now?”
“Four. Elmo wants to blitz the South. Start-up costs are nil. It’s finding the right, trustworthy people. Tom and I can only do so much. Elmo is in his late sixties. So far we have good people. The fact that we open the shops near college campuses helps because kids are always looking for part-time jobs. The downside is it’s strictly a cash business. Money is tempting when you’re on a short leash.”
“What’s your control?”
“The cups and the croissants. In the beginning we just served coffee and tuna sandwiches, using Elmo’s mother’s secret recipe. The control was really tight. Then we included brownies on Mondays and went on to espresso, lattes, and cappuccino. You need more of some coffees and less of others. If I follow Elmo’s business plan, and Tom agrees to work his tail off, we could open five more shops by the end of the year. I’ll be spending all my time on the road checking on the shops. You should know what I’m talking about. When you own a business, you’re married to it. There’s no time for anything else. There’s no time for a private life. All I’ve ever done in my life is work. I don’t know if I want to go after all this on such a grand scale.”
“There’s an alternative,” Parker said seriously.
“What’s that? Move to the islands and drink coconut milk?”
“You could