Four weeks later.
The numbers looked good. Mirabelle flipped the page and scanned the neatly coded tables until she got to the bottom. A wave of pride washed through her at a steady beat, drawing a smile from her lips. Suddenly, the last weeks didn’t feel so stressful and totally worth it. Her plans were coming together rather nicely it seemed.
“This is better than I imagined our first batch would do,” she told Morris, her voice full of pride.
Straddling one of her new dining room chairs with his arms crossed at the top, Morris hummed and took a long gulp from his beer. “It is amazing. Your trick with the flavors was a nifty idea. It certainly took the market by storm. We are already carving out a piece of the market and owning it.”
For some reason, the compliment didn’t warm Mirabel
