actually
make
the chocolate here. Food standards? Hygiene? People are very picky about that sort of thing in this part of the world,’ she grumbled.
‘Ah—to
you
it is a simple garage,’ Max replied with a broad sweep of his right arm, totally unaware that he displayed a remarkable bicep at the same time. ‘But to me it is the manufacturing powerhouse of the entire Treveleyn cocoa empire. And you haven’t seen the best part. Come on inside. That is where the magic happens.’ He waggled his eyebrows up and down several times, then gestured with his head towards a solid metal door. ‘You wouldn’t want to miss that.’
Stifling a groan, Daisy flashed Max an eye-roll, then stepped through as he held the dooropen for her. She stood to one side and took in the long, airy room.
Much to her surprise, the space was cool, clean and tidy, and apart from a few cobwebs in the corner of the ceiling, and a very musty smell, quite serviceable.
She had seen a lot of kitchens worse than this over the years.
Max had converted the brick shell of a very basic garage into a chocolate workshop by covering up the interior brickwork with generous applications of white paint and installing one long kitchen worktop which ran the full length of the far side of the room below double glazed windows. A smooth cement flooring soaked up what heat penetrated the white false ceiling, which was bright with halogen lights.
Sacks of cocoa beans and large plastic tubs were lined up on metal racking against one wall, and Daisy could make out a refrigerator at one side and various pieces of catering equipment covered in clear sheeting. But the centre of the room was dominated by a monster stainless steel mixing unit.
‘Isn’t she a beauty?’ Max asked, as he whisked away the covers like a magician demonstrating his latest conjuring trick. He stood with a hand on each hip, grinning at the mixer as though they were looking at some stunning example of Italian motor engineering. ‘Top ofthe range. I picked it up at a great price from a small Belgian company that had been bought out by one of the big firms.’ He rubbed the palms of his hands together in delight. ‘I can’t wait to see the old girl in action at long last.’
At long last? Oh, no …
‘Please tell me that you have used this machine before?’ Daisy asked with a whimper.
‘Nope,’ Max replied. ‘I was waiting for the perfect occasion—and this is it.’
Daisy stared at the shiny steel behemoth, then chuckled to herself and shrugged as a totally silly idea popped into her head. ‘I bet you have even considered giving your mixer a pet name.’ She glanced up at Max, who was still stroking the metal cover. There was a slight tension around his eyes that made her gasp. ‘Oh, no, please—not that. You
have
, haven’t you?’
‘Dolores is a perfectly respectable name for a lovely piece of engineering which is going to make our fortune.’
‘Dolores?’
Max patted the mixing bowl. ‘Dolores, meet Daisy. This is her first time at the cottage, so I need you to be on your very best behaviour. Just for me. Okay?’
Daisy closed her eyes for a second, and fought down a very unkind comment about boys and their toys. Because Dolores was nota toy. Far from it. Dolores was going to have to work first time or there simply wouldn’t be any chocolate. And if she did not have any chocolate to work with, then there would not be a contest.
‘Nice to meet you, Dolores. It’s good to have you on the team.’ Daisy smiled through half gritted teeth. This was what she had been reduced to—she was talking to inanimate objects.
‘Excellent,’ Max replied, rubbing the palms of his hands together again. ‘Team Treveleyn. I like the sound of that.’
With an athletic spin on his heels, Max turned to Daisy and gestured towards the carefully labelled large white tubs on the worktop. ‘I have everything you need. I have my cocoa paste, I have cocoa butter, I have vanilla and organic
make
the chocolate here. Food standards? Hygiene? People are very picky about that sort of thing in this part of the world,’ she grumbled.
‘Ah—to
you
it is a simple garage,’ Max replied with a broad sweep of his right arm, totally unaware that he displayed a remarkable bicep at the same time. ‘But to me it is the manufacturing powerhouse of the entire Treveleyn cocoa empire. And you haven’t seen the best part. Come on inside. That is where the magic happens.’ He waggled his eyebrows up and down several times, then gestured with his head towards a solid metal door. ‘You wouldn’t want to miss that.’
Stifling a groan, Daisy flashed Max an eye-roll, then stepped through as he held the dooropen for her. She stood to one side and took in the long, airy room.
Much to her surprise, the space was cool, clean and tidy, and apart from a few cobwebs in the corner of the ceiling, and a very musty smell, quite serviceable.
She had seen a lot of kitchens worse than this over the years.
Max had converted the brick shell of a very basic garage into a chocolate workshop by covering up the interior brickwork with generous applications of white paint and installing one long kitchen worktop which ran the full length of the far side of the room below double glazed windows. A smooth cement flooring soaked up what heat penetrated the white false ceiling, which was bright with halogen lights.
Sacks of cocoa beans and large plastic tubs were lined up on metal racking against one wall, and Daisy could make out a refrigerator at one side and various pieces of catering equipment covered in clear sheeting. But the centre of the room was dominated by a monster stainless steel mixing unit.
‘Isn’t she a beauty?’ Max asked, as he whisked away the covers like a magician demonstrating his latest conjuring trick. He stood with a hand on each hip, grinning at the mixer as though they were looking at some stunning example of Italian motor engineering. ‘Top ofthe range. I picked it up at a great price from a small Belgian company that had been bought out by one of the big firms.’ He rubbed the palms of his hands together in delight. ‘I can’t wait to see the old girl in action at long last.’
At long last? Oh, no …
‘Please tell me that you have used this machine before?’ Daisy asked with a whimper.
‘Nope,’ Max replied. ‘I was waiting for the perfect occasion—and this is it.’
Daisy stared at the shiny steel behemoth, then chuckled to herself and shrugged as a totally silly idea popped into her head. ‘I bet you have even considered giving your mixer a pet name.’ She glanced up at Max, who was still stroking the metal cover. There was a slight tension around his eyes that made her gasp. ‘Oh, no, please—not that. You
have
, haven’t you?’
‘Dolores is a perfectly respectable name for a lovely piece of engineering which is going to make our fortune.’
‘Dolores?’
Max patted the mixing bowl. ‘Dolores, meet Daisy. This is her first time at the cottage, so I need you to be on your very best behaviour. Just for me. Okay?’
Daisy closed her eyes for a second, and fought down a very unkind comment about boys and their toys. Because Dolores was nota toy. Far from it. Dolores was going to have to work first time or there simply wouldn’t be any chocolate. And if she did not have any chocolate to work with, then there would not be a contest.
‘Nice to meet you, Dolores. It’s good to have you on the team.’ Daisy smiled through half gritted teeth. This was what she had been reduced to—she was talking to inanimate objects.
‘Excellent,’ Max replied, rubbing the palms of his hands together again. ‘Team Treveleyn. I like the sound of that.’
With an athletic spin on his heels, Max turned to Daisy and gestured towards the carefully labelled large white tubs on the worktop. ‘I have everything you need. I have my cocoa paste, I have cocoa butter, I have vanilla and organic
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