Nightmares Can Be Murder (A Dream Club Mystery) Read Online Free Page B

desperation.
    Oldies but Goodies had been in operation for nearly a year, and I suspected she was barely breaking even. Allison had accepted my offer to stay with her for a while to get things in the black, but glancing around the shop, I wondered if I’d been fooling myself. Maybe this was a business that was doomed to fail. It needed a major infusion of something, but what? It doesn’t help to throw money into an operation unless you have a solid business plan. I wasn’t convinced that Ali did.
    Ali continued, “When people come here for the evening, they expect a nice spread. It’s part of the enjoyment, you know. Sampling goodies and exchanging recipes.”
    “I suppose you’re right,” I said, aiming for a positive note. I poured myself a glass of lemonade from the crystal pitcher she kept on the counter for the customers. “Retro is in and Southerners certainly do love their sweets.”
    Ali keeps a well-thumbed copy of Sandra Lee’s
Bake Sale Cookbook
on the counter, and I idly flipped through it. “Sandra always manages to come up with a modern twist on all the old favorites.”
    “She certainly does. That book is my inspiration.” Allison nodded. “Nostalgia is the name of the game here in Savannah. Southerners have long memories and a passion for old-timey things. People remember all these candies from the good old days, and they buy them for their kids and grandbabies. Of course it wouldn’t hurt if I could figure out a way to draw in the younger crowd, as well. Maybe you can help me with that, since you’re going to be in town for a while.”
    I bobbed my head up and down in a show of enthusiasm. “You know I’ll do my best.” I paused, glancing at the street as a middle-aged couple in plaid Bermuda shorts stopped in front of the shop. They took a quick peek at the window display and then moved on.
    Not a good sign.
    I made a mental note to talk to Ali about revamping the window display. We needed something eye-catching that would draw in the tourists. Maybe a selection of vintage candy advertisements, blown up poster-size and mounted in old-fashioned frames? I might be able to find some online, I decided. Or perhaps a display of antique candy presses? A collage of vintage candy bar wrappers was another possibility. Something fun and colorful that would make people take notice and step inside.
    And then another idea hit me
. We should be running a weekly special
. Ideas started ricocheting back and forth, and I couldn’t wait to get started with a marketing plan.
    We could offer bagged candy that people could eat on the go, perfect for tourists as they took in the sights. Nothing that would melt in the sultry summer weather, maybe Broadway Licorice Rolls or Red Hots, or even those crunchy Boston Baked Beans. We could give away free samples, offer two-for-one coupons, anything to draw in more traffic.
    Or maybe we could run a contest? Kids could guess the number of gummy bears in a glass jar or jawbreakers in a bin?
    We could even do something interactive, maybe have an old-fashioned taffy pull on the sidewalk in front of the shop? I grabbed a notepad and started scribbling before the ideas got away from me.
    “You’re still not operating in the black, right?” I said, writing madly.
    I had the feeling Ali was putting a good spin on things, as usual, and leaving out half the story. Ever since our parents died in a car crash ten years earlier, I’d stepped into the parental role with my headstrong younger sister. I wanted to know the details on Oldies but Goodies, because in the end, I’d be the one picking up the pieces and maybe even bankrolling Allison’s next venture.
    Ali had pulled her streaky blond hair into a ponytail and was wearing a black apron over her burgundy tank top and skinny jeans. She was tall, slim with the kind of good looks that turn heads. With her golden hair, china blue eyes, and finely chiseled cheekbones, she could have stepped out of a Victoria’s Secret ad.
    Ali