Page 19 of Deep Fried Devotion
The afternoon built steadily, families making their final fair visits before it ended. Birdie lost herself in the rhythm of orders and prep work, the satisfaction of watching people's faces light up when they tasted her creations. A group of teenagers filmed themselves trying the cola spheres, shrieking with laughter when the bubbles popped in their mouths. An elderly couple shared a single order of deep-fried cotton candy, feeding each other bites with the tenderness of people who'd been married for decades.
Each successful order felt like a small victory, proof that her grandmother's dream was not only possible but thriving. She'd done it. She'd created food that was not only magical, but also brought people joy.
And she'd done it with Soren by her side.
The thought made her smile as she dropped fresh batter into the oil. Having someone nearby to help and talk to had changed everything about the experience. Instead of working alone, worried about every decision, she had someone who understood her vision and made it better. Someone who caught her mistakes before they became disasters and looked at her like she hung the moon.
But when she glanced over at his truck again, Soren was scrubbing the same section of counter for the third time.
"You know that's clean, right?" she called over with a laugh.
"It wasn't clean enough," he replied, still not looking up.
The response was so unlike him that Birdie paused in her prep work. Soren was thorough about cleanliness, but he didn'twaste motion or repeat tasks unnecessarily. Something was definitely bothering him.
Before she could ask what was wrong, Jennie Patel appeared at their corner, practically bouncing with excitement. Maybe Jennie had news about next year's fair, or wanted to compliment them on their success this weekend. The fair coordinator had been nothing but supportive since their first day.
"I need to talk to both of you," Jennie said, clutching her clipboard and glancing around like she was sharing state secrets. "About what happens after today."
After today.
She'd been so caught up in the magic of the weekend that she'd barely thought about Monday, about packing up her truck and driving back to New Haven, about returning to the regular farmers’ markets and birthday party gigs that had been her bread and butter before this weekend changed everything.
"The town council met this morning," Jennie continued. "They've been following all the attention you've gotten—the social media buzz, that food blogger feature, the crowds you've been drawing. They're hoping you'll both consider staying involved year round with our events."
Yes! Birdie did a fist pump.
"We have a summer festival in July, the Christmas market in December, spring arts show in May. They'd love to have you as regular vendors. Guaranteed spots, prime locations, the whole package."
This was it. This was exactly what Birdie had dreamed about when she'd started the truck—steady work, community support, a chance to build something lasting instead of scrambling for bookings every week. It would be a stability that would let her expand her menu, maybe even think about hiring help.
She turned to share her excitement with Soren, expecting to see his face light up with the same joy she felt.
Instead, he looked like someone had asked him to solve calculus while juggling flaming torches.
"That's... that's really generous," Soren said. "When would you need an answer?"
"Oh, no rush at all!" Jennie beamed. "Take a few weeks to think it over. I just wanted you to know how much the community has embraced you both."
After Jennie hurried off to handle the afternoon's inevitable crises, Birdie waited for Soren's excitement to match her own. Instead, he was cleaning equipment that was already spotless.
"So," Birdie said, trying to keep her voice light despite the growing knot in her stomach. "Regular vendor status. That's incredible, right?"
"It's a good opportunity," Soren said flatly.
The response felt wrong. Not bad, exactly, but careful in a way that made her stomach tighten. This was what they'd been working toward, wasn't it? Community acceptance, steady income, a chance to build something together?
"You don't sound excited," she said.
Soren set down his cleaning cloth and looked at her directly for the first time in an hour. "I need to tell you something. I got a call this morning."
"What kind of call?"
"From Peter. My former business partner."
A cold breeze shivered through her, or maybe that was dread. This had to be the guy whose restaurant empire had collapsed, taking Soren's trust and financial security with it.
“What did he want?”
