Page 79 of Meet Me at the Fudge Shop

Because winning meant the real work of running a fudge shop began. There would be no margin for error. No backup plan. No Declan there to talk her through it.

Unless he agreed to come work with her. But he’d said nothing about the future since their kiss, their words in the park. There they were, a whole decade later, their love still held under the secrecy of the moonlight.

But maybe she was overthinking it. He’d been working with her all week, glancing in her direction, occasionally trapping her in a kiss.

So, maybe that conversation would comeafterthe festival, when they knew the final winner of the fudge shop competition. When they’d both agreed to finally tell their families about what they meant to each other.

Lily closed her eyes and blew out a breath. Right now, she needed to focus on getting everything prepped for the Main Street Festival. She and Declan would have separate booths from the time the festival began at ten until it ended at eight, and she’d been making fudge all week in preparation.

Lily hefted a stack of decorative boxes from the storeroom and carried them to the work counter in the kitchen where Mom was dutifully slicing and boxing the last of the decadent confections. She hadn’t wanted to ask her mother for help, but Mom had insisted.

“These are the last of them.” Lily set the boxes on the counter. “Are you sure that doesn’t hurt your hands too much?” She glanced at the clock. “I can always finish up alone. Declan doesn’t need the kitchen for another hour or so.”

“Nonsense. I’m doing fine. Besides, I miss being here.” Mom continued her methodical slicing and separating. She’d pinned her hair back with a clip, like she had so often when she’d worked the fudge shop.

The memory swirled in Lily’s heart, stirring up all the nostalgia and history. “There’s something about this kitchen, the way sugar and chocolate pervades the air. It’s like every breath is a treat.” Lily folded another box into shape and lined it with parchment paper.

“I never thought of it like that, but you’re right. And it smells even better now with you here. So many new scents mingled with the old. Your creativity at work. It’s beautiful to witness.” Mom held up a slice of the specialty fudge in front of her. The pale cream base held dried rose petals and pistachios pressed into the top surface. “What did you call this fudge?”

“Saffron black cardamom.” They’d already spent a few hours boxing up the bergamot, lavender, toffee-chunk, and many other pounds of Lily’s unique offerings.

“It looks, smells—and yes, I’ll admit it—tastes amazing.”

“Mom!”

“What? You can’t expect me to slice all of this fudge and not take a tiny sampling. Or two. Or five.” Mom winked and got back to work. “Everyone else is going to love it too.”

“I sure hope so.” Lily had gone to a lot of extra expense. And, while it wasn’t a traditional fudge, its unique flavor profile would either make her a winner—or solidify her as the loser.

“The flowers really make it look special.” Mom placed the delicate fudge squares into one of the boxes Lily had prepared.

“I had those organic rose petals shipped from Pennsylvania.” She handed her mom a slice. “Declan usually helps me source ingredients, but these are top secret. They’re originally from Egypt.”

“Wow.” Mom examined the piece Lily had given her. “They’re gorgeous. Simply gorgeous.” Her mother blinked, still staring at the fudge for a moment longer before setting it into the box.

“You reallydomiss it, huh?” Lily reached out and placed a hand over Mom’s.

Mom’s eyes watered. “Quitting the shop was like losing a piece of my identity. But then, having you come back. Being able to be a fudge family again. Even though I can’t do the work, I’m seeing our legacy—seeing you—carry on that tradition. I can’t wait to see what you do with all of it.”

The weight of the shop—everything it meant. All the past and the future rolled over Lily, the weight of it nearly toppling her. “Maybe I should have made more of the regular fudge recipes.”

“What are you talking about? These are beautiful.”

“Yes, they’re beautiful—but do peoplewantto eat flowers? What was I thinking?”

Mom stared at the box of fudge in front of her. “I thought you told me that customers had been flocking to your unique fudge ever since Sadie helped you tweak your marketing.”

“Well, yes, but they love the traditional flavors too—Declan’s still sold a lot. And that’s what worries me.”

“What’s that?”

“What if the people who come to the festival tomorrow are largely into traditional fudge? Then it won’t matter how well I’ve done before this. The festival could tip everything over the edge in Declan’s favor.”

Mom gave her a soft smile. “That’s business, sweetheart. You just don’t know what they’ll love, what they’ll go for. There’s risk. But you’re a risk taker, Lily Ann. You always have been.”

“But maybe I shouldn’t be.” Look where her “risk taking”—or flightiness, or whatever it was called—had led her before this. Failing out of business school. Losing her job. “Maybe this was a mistake. I could have just stuck with peanut butter fudge, cookies and cream—the stuff that’s guaranteed to sell.”

“But then you wouldn’t be true to who you are, and can I just say it? You are amazing.” Mom rounded the counter and gave her a hug. “Win or lose, I’m proud to call you mine.”

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