Военная мысль Китая. Группа авторов
Читать онлайн.| Название | Военная мысль Китая |
|---|---|
| Автор произведения | Группа авторов |
| Жанр | Зарубежная публицистика |
| Серия | |
| Издательство | Зарубежная публицистика |
| Год выпуска | 0 |
| isbn | 978-5-907173-34-7 |
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
THE FEBRUARY FOG rolled across the frozen flats of Indian Lake and curled long, diaphanous fingers around the pines and maples at the water’s edge. Canadian geese flew in V-formations across the slate sky above, honking at no particular inhabitants below. There was no wind to rattle the winter-bare branches of the shrubs and neglected rosebushes around the Pine Tree Lodges of Indian Lake, and few tourists were out and about in the dark predawn hours.
Inside Cupcakes and Coffee Cafe, strings of red Valentine lights and glittering silver beads hugged the ceiling in a mock drape, reflecting happy red light into every cranny. Aromas of sugar, butter and freshly ground coffee beans mingled with the clanging of dozens of baking trays being tossed in and out of ovens.
Maddie Strong shouted instructions to her staff of one, twenty-one-year-old Chloe Knowland. Three of Maddie’s closest friends were also on board to help with her Valentine’s Day cupcake orders.
“Next year, I’ll know better than to agree to this insane torture,” Sarah Jensen said, laughing as she slung back the last smidge of Maddie’s special-brew latte. She hoisted two full trays of iced cupcakes onto an empty table marked New Buffalo, then reached for a yellow legal pad to record the details of the order. She counted twenty-four double-chocolate cupcakes with pink peppermint icing, forty-eight vanilla cupcakes with white whipped-cream icing, each topped with a red marzipan heart, and thirty-six red velvet cupcakes with white cooked-flour frosting. Sarah marked off the inventory and looked around for some bakery boxes.
“Torture is a bit strong, don’t you think, sweetie?” Maddie retorted, winking at her best friend. She yanked a very full pastry bag from a stainless-steel rack and placed a fine-point pipe on the end and secured it. The bag was filled with her new recipe for vanilla-bean whipped-buttercream filling. She stuck the pipe into the centers of several double-fudge cupcakes, which she had previously cored out, and squeezed the bag.
“It would be fine if I didn’t have to get up at 4:00 a.m.!” Sarah shouted above the latest cacophony as Isabelle Hawks dropped a stack of aluminum muffin tins on the floor.
“Sorry,” Isabelle said, whisking her dark hair away from her startlingly pretty face. She quickly gathered the muffin tins. “I’m just all thumbs today. Not enough sleep,” she said, endorsing Sarah’s comment.
“Maddie, you do know we make these sacrifices for you because we love you,” Sarah said, flashing a grin at Isabelle.
“It’s either that or you’re expecting a free cupcake out of the deal,” Maddie replied, keeping a critical eye on her work.
“I’ll take the free cupcake,” Liz Crenshaw said offhandedly as she stuck bottles of her grandfather’s new white-grape ice wine into Valentine’s baskets that already contained cupcakes and bags of Maddie’s blend of Colombian and Middle Eastern coffee beans.
Sarah tapped her cheek with her finger. “In that case, I need at least a half a dozen cupcakes. There’s Luke, Annie, Timmy, Mrs. Beabots, me and Beau, of course...”
Maddie froze and shot her best friend a horrified look. “Beau? No way your dog gets one of my gourmet creations!”
“He loves them!” Sarah grinned, keeping her eyes on Maddie’s piping bag. “Squirt a little extra cream into Beau’s cupcake. He adores that stuff.”
In mock horror, Maddie shook the piping bag at Sarah. “That dog has excellent taste. He gets a double blast.”
Sarah carefully arranged a grouping of pineapple-and-coconut cupcakes with coconut-cream frosting onto a round tray and marked it for delivery to the Pine Tree Lodges of Indian Lake. She looked quizzically at Isabelle, who had just been promoted to assistant director at the lodges. “Edgar only wants two dozen cupcakes? I would think the lodges would be booked up for months for Valentine’s dinner.”
“We are,” Isabelle answered confidently and in a somewhat smug tone. “Edgar didn’t like the idea of opening the lodges just for one night when we’re normally closed all winter. But thanks to my online winter ad campaign and the raffle for a free weekend at the lodges, even the cabins are completely booked. Truth is, I took an entire vanful of cupcakes out there last night.”
“Yeah,” Maddie said, waving her piping bag triumphantly. “We just had to make the coconut cupcakes at the last minute so they stay very fresh. I grated the coconut just an hour ago. Nothing but the best for our Isabelle. Aaaannnd,” Maddie said dramatically, piping a huge swirl of peony-pink icing onto an oversize strawberry cupcake. “Edgar Clayton is probably my most loyal customer ever.” She finished the cupcake with a flourish, then licked an errant glob of icing off her wrist.
“Having worked for Edgar for seven years,” Isabelle said, “I have to say that ‘loyal’ defines him quite well. He’s always been diligent about distributing Maddie’s business cards to tourists.”
“Word of mouth. My kind of magic.” Maddie said, never taking her eyes off the pearlized sugar spray she used to decorate the next order. “That, and unique product ideas,” she added.
Sarah finished her inventory and handed the list to Maddie. “Just how many recipes have you patented now?”
“Twenty. And at two grand a pop for legal fees, I haven’t been able to go shopping or on vacation for three years. But, it’s all been worth it.”
Maddie looked just past Sarah. Next to the register was a three-foot-high, perilously thin, black glass vase. Streaming out of the top of the vase were jungle-red anthurium flowers, green palms and white orchids. They were from Alex Perkins, of Chicago’s esteemed investment firm Ashton and Marsh. Sarah’s uncle, George Regeski, had helped Maddie prepare a business plan for franchising her “made-on-the-spot cupcakes and Italian café” concept last year. George had scoured his network of investment firms