Secret Admirer

Habits were hard to break. Waking up at the same time every day, always ordering the same coffee, taking the same route to and from work. Ian was guilty of all of these, and others. He was fortunate enough–or unfortunate?--that his walk home from work took him along main street. It was nice looking in all the shop windows, seeing how everything changed as the seasons went by and waving to all the familiar employees as he passed. 

Until three months ago, when the ‘For Lease’ sign on the window of the only empty storefront was removed. Gossip spread through the town faster than a wildfire, but no two whispers were the same. The small town was starved for a newcomer, and one that would own a business right on main street was more than the residents could’ve hoped for. Ian was no different. Things so rarely changed here, and it was exciting when they did. 

This was all well and fine, until Ian made the fateful decision to stop by the new shop and introduce himself. When he stepped through the front door, a little bell jangling above him, he was greeted with bright colors and scents that were so sweet they were nauseating. The town must’ve had a candy store sometime in the past, but it had long gone out of business. Residents would buy their sweets from the store on the corner, or when they got groceries. But things had changed.

The new store didn’t have novelty candies or manufactured sweets for the adventurous. It was all handmade. And all of them were the owner’s own recipes. He had taffy and hard candies and hundreds of different kinds of chocolate. It only took a couple weeks for the candy store to be the most popular spot in town. It took less than that for Ian to add another step to his routine. Instead of taking his time walking down the sidewalk to his home, he beelined straight for the candy store and ended up spending a half hour there at the absolute least. Most of the time it ruined his plans for the rest of the night, not to mention his dinner, but he found himself caring less and less each time it happened. 

Today was really no different. Work had gone the same, and so had the walk to the shop. As normal, the buzzing in Ian’s chest increased the closer he got. The chalkboard sign out front had been changed for the week. It read ‘Life Is Short, Have Dessert First’ in block letters. Ian snorted to himself and shook his head. It was one of the worst ones by far, and he wondered if there was anything he could do to get it changed. 

The familiar bell chimed as he pushed open the door. “Afternoon, Ansel.” He didn’t see the owner at first, then spotted him crouched behind a tall stack of boxes. 

“Mr. Lane,” Ansel said by way of greeting, then stepped out from behind the boxes, clipboard in hand. “Tell me, is today the day you finally stop putting me out of business?” 

Ian crossed to the counter in the middle of the shop, boosting himself up to sit between the register and a display of gift-ready candy. “Nope.” He swung his legs, the heels of his shoes sometimes kicking against the counter beneath him. “What’s new today?” 

It was a running joke at this point. Ian would come in, sample new candies or works in progress, and they’d talk for as long as either of them could manage. After three months of daily visits, they were both settled into the routine nicely, as much as they pretended otherwise. 

Ansel moved behind the counter and swapped his clipboard for a covered plate. It was clear it had been waiting there for Ian to arrive. Like always. Ian twisted where he sat, so he could face Ansel. 

“Experimenting today,” Ansel said, uncovering the dish. “Try first.” 

The chocolates being presented to him looked deceptively normal, but Ian knew better. If Ansel was experimenting, there was something either hidden inside them or mixed into the chocolate. And if they hadn’t been put out in the store yet, it meant they still needed a lot of work. He selected one, and held it between his thumb and index finger, examining it. It seemed to be dark chocolate, but that was all he could tell about it without biting into it. The inside was creamy, like a truffle, and it had the unmistakable taste of dark chocolate, as he’d suspected. But there was something else there. Something familiar that made his lips burn and stung the back of his throat.

Ansel was watching carefully for his reaction, so he finished the last half of the chocolate quickly so he could give his verdict. “It’s…interesting,” he said. Ansel’s face fell just the tiniest bit, and Ian backtracked. “I mean it’s good, it really is. All of your candy is. But I can’t figure out what’s in it?” 

“It’s jalapeno juice. Apparently it’s the newest thing for chocolate, to make it spicy.”  Ansel lifted a shoulder in a shrug, then returned the plate to the spot under the counter. “Apparently I need to add more, or adjust the other flavors a bit.” 

Ian, who had learned to stay quiet during Ansel’s musings, continued swinging his leg as he watched the confectioner go about his work. He’d taken up the clipboard again, and was examining the stack of boxes. Thursdays were shipment days. Ian fidgeted with the signs on the display next to him, putting them in the wrong places. “So only one for today? That’s unusual.” 

Ansel wrote something on one of the boxes. “I’ve been in a slump lately. I can’t seem to come up with anything, or improve my other recipes.” He eyed Ian’s destructive hands, then turned back to his current task with a roll of his eyes. 

“Sounds bad,” Ian replied. “Maybe I could help you?” 

Ansel sighed. “No, I’m positive you’d only make it worse.” 

Ian clucked his tongue. “Ouch.” He hopped off the counter to wander around the shop, seeing as how Ansel didn’t seem fit for conversation today. Being so focused on looking around, he missed the fleeting glance Ansel gave him at his hurt statement, full of confusion and maybe a little bit of panic. 

He busied himself poking around the different displays, occasionally sampling one or two of his favorite candies when he was sure Ansel wasn’t paying attention. It was their little agreement. As long as Ian didn’t get caught he wasn’t technically breaking the rules. 

“Oh by the way,” Ansel called after a while of this. His boxes had been put away and he was going through papers on his counter. “Someone left something here for you.” 

Ian turned, shoving a wrapped taffy in his shirt pocket so Ansel wouldn’t see. “They left something? Like a package? Why wouldn’t they just take it to my house?” 

Ansel shrugged. “Maybe they didn’t know where you lived.” He searched a cabinet beneath the register for a moment, before setting a slim box on the counter. 

Ian approached it cautiously, although he had to admit the packaging was very pretty. The paper was a simple white, but the red ribbon tied around it more than made up for it. He examined it carefully from all angles, in case the whole thing was an elaborate prank. Finally, he untied the ribbon and slid it away from the box, before separating the top and bottom of the box. Inside was an assortment of different candies, most–or maybe all–of which looked to be the ones Ian liked the best. 

“From an admirer?” Ansel asked, humming thoughtfully and glancing into the box. 

“There isn’t a note or anything,” Ian replied, rotating and lifting the box as if he’d missed it the first time. “What did the person look like? The one who left it.” 

Ansel returned to his paperwork. “I don’t remember, I get so many people in and out of here.” He waved a dismissive hand through the air. “I think you’re the only person I recognize at this point.” 

“It’s a small town; there aren’t that many people,” Ian insisted. He’d closed up the box again, planning on taking it home to search more thoroughly. 

“You aren’t eating the candy?” 

“I have no idea who left this. It could be poisoned or something.” He picked up the box and started for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, apparently I have to go do something.” 

The next week, on a Wednesday this time, there was another package. It was full of the shop’s candies again, although this time it seemed to be more expensive chocolates. They had a brief conversation about it, Ian more distressed about it than the first one. Ansel had tried convincing him it was only a secret admirer, not someone out to get him, but it was of no use. 

The week after that, the box came with a small plush bear. It had unnerved Ian so much that he completely forgot about asking for samples, and left the shop within ten minutes. He added the box to the slowly growing stack in his house, and tried to stop looking over his shoulder so often. 

The fourth box was paired with a small bouquet of roses. 

“I think I have a stalker, Ansel,” Ian said after seeing the latest gift. He paced up and down in front of the register, twisting his hands together in front of him. 

Ansel leaned against the counter, rubbing at his temples with one hand. “They're just gifts. Why would it be a stalker?” 

Ian threw his hands up in the air. “But it’s what the gifts are. Why does this person know my favorite chocolates and candies? How do they know what my favorite flowers are? You’re the only person in this town who knows all that!” He continued his pacing, completely oblivious to Ansel’s state of disbelief.  

“Ian, you are really stupid.” 

“What?” Ian couldn’t decide which to be more flabbergasted by: the words, the tone, or Ansel using his first name.  

Ansel gestured to the box and bouquet next to him. “These are from me. All of them have been from me. I was trying to be mysterious about it but I didn’t think you would be this paranoid.” 

Ian stood in the middle of the shop, mouth open in surprise. “You? But why would you box it up like that? You could’ve just given it to me like you always have.”

Ansel pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was trying to tell you that I liked you, you idiot.”