“It’s because your grandma is iconic and gives no fucks. Simple as that. I hope to one day be just like her.”
Kane places the rest of the inventory on the table. “She’s a queen.”
“Yes, she is.” I look at what’s left, which isn’t a whole lot. “This is it?”
“Yep, that’s everything.”
“Wow. We still have so much time left. I guess I didn’t bring enough.”
“That means we’ll have sold out with time to enjoy the pumpkin patch and maybe bob for apples.”
I glance at him with a devilish grin. “Is that code for something?”
“Well, there are some other things you can bob if you want.”
A playful growl releases from me. “Don’t tempt me, Cowboy.”
“You’re the temptress here, not me.”
“Oh whatever!” I laugh, but before I can say anything else, a customer strolls by, and we greet her.
“You’re butter, and you’re Paula Deen?” the older woman asks with a snicker. She’s well dressed and is wearing several diamond rings on her fingers. Just by the way she presents herself, I know she’s rich and probably drives a Cadillac. Most of the wannabe Stepford wives around here do.
“Yes, ma’am,” Kane tells her. “All my girlfriend’s idea.”
“That’s cute,” she says while smelling the different scents. She starts stacking the ones she’s getting on top of one another until it’s a leaning tower of goat soap.
“Honey, where’d you get that beautiful journal?” she asks. Her eyes narrowed in on it when I scooted it to the side.
“Oh, this thing?” I’m wearing a cheesy grin. “It was given to me as a gift. Completely handmade.”
“Do ya mind?” The woman reaches out, and I willingly give it to her because I’m proud of what Kane made. She studies it with amazement, and I know she’s just as impressed as I was the first time I saw it.
“I think I might need one of these for my daily devotionals,” she explains, handing it back to me.
I meet Kane’s eyes, then bring my attention back to her as she continues to add lotions and everything else to her purchase.
“I know the person who made it. I’ve been tryin’ to get ’em to make a website because others might want something that’s so pretty.” I give Kane a wink, and the woman quickly catches on.
She turns to him. “Honey, if you start a shop for these, I’ll be your first order. Before you tell me how much time it takes to make, I know. My late husband used to do some leatherworkin’ for a saddle maker over in El Paso. Reminds me of the good ole days before he passed away.”
“It’s really just a hobby of mine,” he shyly explains.
“Some people have skills, and some people have skills. You know what I’m sayin’? That’s pure talent. Don’t let it go to waste.” She pulls out her business card and hands it over to him. He places it in the side pouch of my purse. “I’m serious about gettin’ one made. No rush. Money isn’t an object.”
Kane looks shocked, but all I can do is laugh.
“I’ve been tellin’ him how amazing they are, but he’s modest.”
The older woman grins wide. “Now, how much do I owe you?”
Kane stands and puts everything in a bag as I ring up each item. I swallow hard when I see her total. “Five hundred and sixty-seven dollars.”
“And how much for everything else you’ve got left?”
My eyes widen in shock. “Seriously?”
“Absolutely. I have a huge family and love to send them gifts. They don’t usually get high-quality items like fresh goat milk soaps, so they’ll feel special. And smell good too.”
We count the rest of the products, and even I’m surprised when I say the new total out loud.
“Fourteen hundred and twenty-three dollars and fifty-five cents.”
“Great.” She smiles, then hands over her card. Kane swipes it, and I turn the tablet around for her to sign.
“Ma’am, would you like me to help carry these out to your car?” Kane offers because the soaps aren’t light.
“That would be fabulous,” she tells him.
“Thank you so much.” I give her a wave. “We appreciate your business, and you can find us on Instagram!”
“Oh honey, I don’t use social media. I’m too old for that.”
Kane follows her to her car, and I start cleaning up the booth. After everything is packed and back in the wagon, Kane returns.
He smiles wide. “Do you know who that was?”
“No idea,” I confirm. “She seemed nice.”
“That was Audrey Adler. The widow of an old rich oil tycoon. I think she’s even seein’ the governor of Texas.”
“Seriously? This could be huge for the business and for you!”
“For me? No, for you, sweetheart. She kept going on and on about how much she loved the scents. Even said she’d be making an online order around Christmas.”
I gasp. “Harper is going to flip when that happens!”
“The woman has enough money to buy every person in the state a bar of goat soap.”