Page 1 of Meet Me at the Fudge Shop

ChapterOne

Genius didn’t always strike at three a.m. on a Friday in June, but when it did, it involved caramel, a decadent truffle center, and roasted cashews—all wrapped in a hand-dipped, dark chocolate shell with a zigzag of white chocolate garnish to make it pop.

Lily Hart’s secret ingredient? Bergamot oil, just the right number of drops to create a citrusy, herby deliciousness.

Elusive. Mesmerizing. Sublime.

So what if she hadn’t slept last night? Hadn’t even gone home after working a grueling twelve-hour shift. But that’s what was demanded if you wanted to be an apprentice to Master Chocolatier Oscar Granger at Palm Coast’s Florida Sullivan Resort.

Who needed sleep, anyway?

This was brilliance. And yes, it had taken her all night, but these candies were her ticket to having Oscar’s ear at long last. To being more than a grunt worker.

To finally proving to herself—to everyone back home—that shewassuccessful. Or at least was on her way.

She glanced past the gleaming commercial-grade, stainless steel prep station, where The Sullivan’s kitchen staff would soon be cooking up one of the best breakfast spreads this side of Orlando, toward the gleaming glass clock set over the swinging double doors that led to an opulent dining room. Soon, Oscar and her fellow apprentices would walk into the kitchen and make their way toward the pastry section in the back corner, roll up their sleeves, and begin another day of creating the award-winning desserts worthy of The Sullivan’s acclaim.

And she’d have one already prepared for Chef Oscar Granger, award-winning, albeit exacting, baker, head of the pastry kitchen.

He’d take one look—and then one taste and…

Well, her big sacrifice of moving thirteen hundred miles from home, hours and hours of training, and even the scrutiny of her resort boss, Daniel Sullivan, would be worth it.

Not an apprentice anymore, but a full-on bakery chef, in one of the best pastry kitchens in Orlando, with multiple convection and deck ovens and space for roll-in ovens when needed, plus a stove, a long wooden island for bread making, a marble one for tabling chocolate, three massive refrigerators, a proofing case, two mixers, and every other tool a pastry chef could desire.

Take that, Declan-the-Jerk Kelley.

Blinking away the exhaustion that kept sneaking up on her, Lily took a swig of her coffee, now cold, and leaned down to take one final look over her confections at eye level. Ten gorgeous chocolates seemed to wink back at her from their placement on a simple white plate with a golden caramel spiral. She inhaled the sweet, rich chocolate aroma.

Mmm. Yes. Genius.

Grabbing her pen, she added one final word to her recipe card.

Enjoy.

“Lily!”

She jumped, her pen clattering onto the island as she glanced up to find her coworker-slash-friend Kayleigh standing over her, hands on her hips.

Kayleigh sported a frown to go with her stark-white apron and brown hair pulled tight into a bun at the base of her neck. “How long have you been here?”

“Hi.” Lily straightened, smiled. “All night. But look what beauty my efforts produced.”

“All night? But why?”

“I couldn’t exactly create on my wonky stovetop. I needed the chocolate tempering machine?—”

“No,” Kayleigh said. “Why?” She pointed to the dessert.

Oh. “I just told you. I was creating.” Lily rotated the plate. “Oscar can’t ignore my suggestions anymore once he tastes these. I’ve worked here five years, Kayleigh.Five yearsof making the same old boring chocolates.”

“And I’ve been here three. What’s your point?”

“It’s time for a change.”

Kayleigh gave her a look. “Oscarhateschange.”

“He onlythinkshe hates change. But when he tastes these, he’ll change—his mind, that is.”

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