Page 2 of Meet Me at the Fudge Shop

“I highly doubt that.” Kayleigh lifted an eyebrow and pushed Lily’s cup of coffee toward her, as if to indicate she needed to drink more.

Fine, maybe shewasgetting punchy.

Lily drained her cup and tossed it into the garbage. “You’ll see. These chocolates will wake him up from the boring dessert world he’s been living in. He’ll discover there are more ingredients than caramel, walnuts, and peanut butter—though I have nothing against any of them, if jazzed up a bit.”

“Oscar likes classic desserts. That’s the job, Lily. Besides, since when does the word dessert belong withboring?” Kayleigh glanced back at the door. “He’s going to be here in ten minutes. And we’re supposed to be prepping for the McAllen wedding.” She’d donned her pastry hat. “What kind of bride doesn’t want a cake?”

“I think it’s fun—a dozen different desserts and chocolates for the dessert table instead. Which is why I made these.”

Kayleigh shook her head. “You know Oscar’s never going to accept one of your suggestions, right?”

“You don’t know that. Last month, Carlos suggested we add sprinkles to the strawberry Pop-Tart fudge for that kid’s birthday bash we catered, and Oscar agreed to try it.”

“But that wasCarlos.”

“Yeah, the Golden Boy.” She finger-quoted the words. “The man has zero imagination. Sprinkles? For a ten-year-old boy? How about the sparklers I suggested?”

“Carlos is smarter than you think. He’s already created a five-year plan to own his own shop.He’sgoing places.”

Lily blinked at her. “And what, I’m stuck in a vat of cooling chocolate hardening around my feet? Seriously. Did you not see these chocolates?” She held up the plate. “Perfection.”

But Kayleigh wasn’t looking at her. In fact, she pushed past her and peered into the tempering machine. “Lily, you need to clean this. You know Oscar insists on a spotless kitchen at the start of the day.”

Oh. “I guess I got too involved with finishing the chocolates.” She hurried toward the tempering machine, grabbed a ten-pound mold, and flipped the switch to empty what was left of the chocolate from last night’s batch into it. The chocolate pumped out steadily at first, then slower, filling the air with the sugar-laden smell of melted chocolate.

“I’ll get these.” Kayleigh walked Lily’s spatula and a few other tools to the sink and began washing them.

“Thank you.” The chocolate stream ended, and Lily moved the chocolate mold to the counter. Then she removed the auger from the machine and placed it in the right side of the sink. “I’ll wash that in a minute.”

“I don’t mind.”

Lily stopped at the exasperation in Kayleigh’s tone. “Clearly you do.”

Kayleigh picked up the mold, started scrubbing. “You just always do this.”

“Do what?”

“Lose track of time, get your head stuck in the clouds, forget about what you’resupposedto be doing.”

Her words struck something deep inside Lily—and a memory surfaced from long ago. Another voice, much angrier, more masculine, saying similar things. She pushed the thought aside. No. She was different now.

But Kayleigh’s words still stabbed at her. And maybe she hadn’t changed that much because shoot, it ignited all her defenses.

“What I’msupposedto be doing here is becoming a better chocolatier. Learning from one of the greats. But how can we become great, how can we push ourselves to become better, if we aren’t allowed to experiment, to create? That’s the best part of this whole job.”

Kayleigh dropped the clean mold into the rinse sink, looked at her, suds on her arms. “The best part of this job is keeping it. We’ve got an amazing opportunity here.”

“I know that.”

“Especially after the pandemic.” Kayleigh dove again into the sudsy water, this time with the auger. “You’re lucky you had a connection with Mr. Sullivan. I waited two years, and called every week, hoping they’d take my apprentice application.”

No, she was lucky that her childhood friend Dani Sullivan had talked up Lily to her father, Daniel, who had grown up eating the Hart Family Fudge.

No, lucky might be her family’s shopnotdying after the pandemic.

Maybe she didn’t believe in luck, really. Just…reality. Tempered occasionally with a good dessert. Like Mr. Sullivan said, desserts brought people together.

She wanted to believe that with everything inside her.

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