The Cosy Christmas Chocolate Shop: The perfect, feel good romantic comedy to curl up with this Christmas!. Caroline Roberts

a minute or two, who should arrive but the young man who’d been calling in lately. Of course, he’d said he had started working here recently!

      ‘Adam, this is Emma from the gorgeous chocolate shop down the road.’ Laura was obviously keen to help.

      ‘Hi, yes, hello, Emma, of course we’ve already met.’ He offered an outstretched hand to shake hers.

      ‘Hello.’

      His handshake was warm and friendly, and though he was evidently young he seemed more assured here in the hotel than he had in the shop.

      ‘So, you have an idea for our hotel, I hear. Come on through and we can have a chat about it.’

      ‘Thanks.’

      Emma followed him to the hotel’s lounge area – all duck-egg blue and cream sofas, some stripy, some plain – where he had organised coffee to be served for them.

      ‘Well, I’m open to new ideas, so what are you thinking?’

      ‘Obviously, I run a local chocolate shop, and I was thinking that a chocolate gift at turndown for your valued guests might prove popular. It could improve things like your hotel reviews on TripAdvisor and the like, and also make that difference between you and your competitors so as to draw repeat bookings and recommendations.’

      ‘Hmm, sounds interesting.’ Adam was nodding.

      Emma began to relax a little. ‘I’ve brought along a selection of mini boxes filled with two high quality truffles – they aren’t too expensive and they would look lovely popped on a bedside table at turndown. These are just suggestions and you could choose what flavours you felt worked best for your clients.’ She lifted out all the boxes and the samples of fudge and chocolate hearts. ‘With Valentine’s Day coming up soon too we could theme the gifts – say raspberry chocolate love hearts with a champagne truffle.’

      Adam smiled as he picked up one of the filled boxes in white.

      ‘I have tried to colour theme the ribbon to your logo too,’ Emma added chirpily. This wasn’t as difficult as she had feared, though actually getting a yes would be the hard bit.

      ‘So, how much are we actually talking price-wise?’ Adam asked.

      ‘Well, looking at all my costs. and hoping for an order of at least fifty boxes to start, I could price at ninety-five pence per box.’

      He did that hmm, thoughtful noise, giving nothing away.

      ‘It is twenty-five pence cheaper than I sell them for in the shop,’ Emma tried.

      She took a sip of coffee, trying to divert the tension that was now creeping up inside her.

      ‘I like the idea,’ Adam started with a small smile, ‘but …’

       Why was there always a ‘but’?

      ‘I’d need to discuss it with our manager, Helen. Especially with the costs involved. But the chocolate boxes do look great and, having sampled your truffles myself, I know just how good they are.’ His smile broadened. ‘Leave it with me. Do you have a card or anything with the number to call you?’

      ‘Yes.’ She dug a business card from her handbag and handed it across. ‘Thanks for considering this, and if you or Helen need any more information, or want to talk further just let me know.’

      ‘We’ll let you know one way or the other soon.’

      ‘Thank you.’ She finished her coffee, then they both stood and shook hands once more.

      ‘Oh, and say hello to your assistant from me – the dark-haired young lady. I didn’t catch her name?’

      Emma could have sworn Adam’s cheeks were reddening.

      ‘Holly.’

      ‘Ah, Holly. Okay. Thanks.’

      ‘I will do. Thanks for your time this morning, and the coffee.’

      ‘You’re welcome. I think it’s important for local businesses to try and support each other. On that note, would you mind popping a few of our flyers in the shop?’ He took a batch from a coffee table in the corner.

      ‘That’s no problem at all. Of course.’

      With that, she turned to leave. The hotel seemed lovely – comfy, friendly, airy and light. Perfect for a holiday by the sea. She’d gladly put some brochures out for them on her countertop. She waved goodbye to Laura as she passed. Once Em got outside the cool air struck her and she felt a bit wobbly at the knees.

      She had tried her best. Now all she could do was wait.

       12

      What a week it had been! The run-up to Valentine’s Day, the landlord’s visit, and pitching for the hotel business. It had been all go, go, go, making chocolate hearts – dark choc with mint chips and white chocolate with mini strawberry pieces – assorted truffles, with an extra batch of the Irish Cream and champagne flavours, fudge bags, and her new mini ‘hat boxes’ made of chocolate and filled with truffles. They were so pretty, and proving popular.

      And, yes! Adam had phoned her yesterday to say the hotel manager had loved the samples and the idea. They were willing to try an initial fifty boxes, if she could just get them there for Valentine’s Day as that would be a perfect time to start. So it had been a very late night indeed.

      Emma’s hands were sore from tempering all the chocolate she needed (she did have a machine that was a great help, but she had so much to make she was hand-tempering too) and her fingers ached from the intricate work – the piping, filling, mixing – and on top of that her feet were sore. Last night, even though it had been well after midnight when she’d finished the last batch of the day, she’d soaked in a huge bubbly bath for a full hour until the water had gone cold. But she’d been up early at 6.00 a.m. this morning as it was Valentine’s Day tomorrow, so she was making more of the chocolate ‘hat boxes’, as over half of them had already sold. It was hard work, but also lovely seeing everyone come in to choose their special gifts on the lead up to the big day: young lads of about twelve years old up to elderly gents, women, little girls wanting something for Daddy, a flow of customers looking for just the right thing, or sometimes needing a little inspiration. Emma enjoyed suggesting some of the current favourites or a new flavour she was trying out. It was so nice to think her chocolate creations were going to be gifted and hopefully make someone smile – that was one of the best things about being a chocolatier.

      Holly had helped her yesterday afternoon, being a Sunday, and was coming in again today straight from the school bus, which was a godsend. It was hard to make the chocolates and serve, so if Emma needed to make up any last-minute batches she could. Or, if (fingers crossed) there was a busy run of customers, at least there were two of them to keep the queue down.

      This week’s sales so far, along with the fabulous hotel order – hopefully the first of many – had thankfully lifted the finances, and she had now saved nearly enough for next month’s rent hike – yes! So she was going to write that letter tonight, as soon as the shop closed, and send it off to her landlord first thing tomorrow.

      Of course, her supplies were now low, so she’d have to put in another online order for the high quality Belgian chocolate callets she used as the base for all her creations. She could cover her bills for now, but it would still be a juggle, and there was never much left for any luxuries (or indeed some of the necessities) for herself. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she had bought any new clothes, but it wasn’t as though she was off anywhere glamorous. The beach for walks with Alfie and the cottage, kitchen, and shop were her main bases. At work she always wore a black apron (to hide the inevitable chocolate smears), teamed with black trousers and a plain white T-shirt; it didn’t really matter what was underneath as long as it was clean.

      Five