Molly shook her head, glaring. “It’s different for you and you know it. You’ve got this presence, this effortless charisma. And then there’s the fact that you’re just, well, gorgeous, which is just not fair. The rest of us have to try, Jordan. Cut me some slack when I say that I don’t know if I’m up for it.”
Jordan let her mouth fall open. “You think I’m gorgeous?”
“Focus, please; we’re talking about me.”
“Selfish, but okay.” Jordan sat up a little straighter, on a mission now. “I’m afraid it’s time to get serious. Truth or dare.”
Molly shook her head. “Uh-uh. We’re not doing this.”
“We are.” Jordan knew when to use the big guns, and this was one of those times. Truth or Dare was the game Molly had used to get Jordan to open up to her when she was young, knowing full well that at the time Jordan thought of it as a sophisticated, older kids game and would therefore honor the rules reverently. Over the years, it developed into a thing they did, which had led to some very valuable conversations. The dare option was rarely utilized, however. It was just an unspoken understanding between them. Truth or Dare was about being honest with each other at all costs.
Molly’s voice was quiet when she answered obligatorily. “Truth.”
“Do you believe your life is over at thirty-three?”
She was silent and seemed to contemplate the question. “No.”
“Do you deserve to be happy?”
The words must have affected Molly as her eyes filled slightly. She nodded. “I think so.” And then more firmly, “Yes. I do”
“And doesn’t it help to say it out loud?”
Molly relaxed back into the booth, the tiniest of smiles hinted at on her lips. “Surprisingly, it does.”
Jordan brushed her hands together quickly. “Then my work here is done. I’ll send you my bill.”
Molly shook her head slightly. “Why does everything seem easier when you’re around?”
It was a compliment and a commentary on the ease of their relationship. In this moment, she felt very connected to Molly, and the smile faded gradually from her face as she answered. “I don’t know.”
Molly held her gaze and the mood shifted. “Me neither.”
There was a silence that hung in the air between them. Enough of one to make Jordan feel the need to step in and save them from the somehow weighted moment. “You know, rather than dissect the wonder that is me, can we talk about the rumor I heard at the clinic this morning?”
Her cavalier tone broke the spell, and Molly was again all smiles as she leaned in, resting her adorable chin on her fist. “If we must. What have you heard?”
“Jackson, the dueling doctors’ seventeen-year-old errand boy, said that next Saturday happens to be Applewood’s annual April Showers Festival. What say you?”
“I can confirm said rumor.”
Jordan felt herself light up from the inside out as she scooted to the edge of her seat in excitement. “Listen, I love this festival. This festival is the stuff small towns are made of. It takes me straight back to when I was a kid. We have to go. Say we can. I want to ride the Ferris wheel.”
Molly laughed. “I like it when you get all smiley like this. We can definitely go. But a) I hate the Ferris wheel and you know it, and b) you’ll have to entertain yourself, I’m afraid. Or find some unassuming girl to fawn all over you per usual, as I will be working at the Flour Child booth like a good businesswoman should.”
“Lame. But if you insist, I guess I can be big about this. What will you be selling this year?”
“That’s just it. This is our chance to debut something noteworthy to a large crowd. People from all over come to this festival. It needs to be something good. Something new that could garner us some attention, and by attention, I mean cash.” An idea sparked behind Molly’s eyes. “You know what? Can I get your opinion on something?” But she didn’t wait for an answer and was already up and dashing behind the counter. Jordan watched after her curiously when she returned just a moment later carrying a small plate with a solitary chocolate truffle in the middle.
“Taste this.”
“Well, if you twist my arm.” Jordan lifted the chocolate, took a small bite, and allowed the flavors to settle. And then they did. “Wow. It’s good, Molly. Are there more?” She threw an inquisitive glance behind her to the kitchen.
Molly gave her a long look. “But not perfect. I need it to be perfect and it’s missing something. What is it missing?”
Jordan contemplated the question. “You might be asking the wrong person. I pretty much think everything you feed me is what heaven must taste like.”
“Nice of you, but dig a little deeper and I’m betting you could help me figure this out. You have the outsider’s perspective that I desperately need right now. Close your eyes and open your mouth.” With an amused grin, she did so, and the last piece of the truffle was placed delicately on her tongue. She let the chocolate slowly dissolve in her mouth while listening to Molly’s determined and kind of sexy voice speaking in a slow, even tone. “Now if you could add one thing, one quality, one ingredient that would make your mouth water…make you crave just a little bit more, what would it be?”
Jordan swallowed hard, fighting against the direction her thoughts were trying to lead her. Shaking herself out of it, she stumbled upon her answer. “Peanut butter?” It came out of her mouth before she’d even fully processed the thought. But there it was. She opened her eyes. “I pretty much like everything better with peanut butter.”
Molly sat hard. “Huh. Okay, that’s interesting. So you’re thinking savory.” She was lost in concentration and Jordan watched as she bit her bottom lip in a move that was so alluring she had to glance away momentarily. What exactly was happening to her here? Whatever it was, it was powerful.
Finally, Molly brushed the hair off of her forehead and caught Jordan’s gaze. “You know something? It could actually work. But it wouldn’t have to be a lot, just a hint of peanut butter so it doesn’t overwhelm, but rather accentuates.” There was a determination in her stare now and she was off, scurrying behind the counter, clearly in project mode and excited about it. “If this works, I owe you big time,” she called over her shoulder.
“I like the sound of that.”
And then from the recesses of the kitchen, “Come by the house whenever you’re free. The shutters miss you. Plus, I hear there’s complimentary lemonade.”
“I can only hope the rumors are true,” she called back.
Left alone in the cozy bakeshop, Jordan let out a slow exhale. Alone was good. It was safe. She could do alone.
*
It was close to midnight by the time they were ready. Her third batch of the night. Molly stared at the tiny tray of individual chocolates and sent up a small prayer that this would be the time she got it right. “A little help here, Cas?” she whispered up to the air around her.
Taking a deep breath, she slowly brought a truffle to her lips and took a bite. And all at once, she knew.
This was it.
After weeks of tweaking and adjusting, tasting and accounting, she’d come up with the perfect balance of flavors. Her heart sped up and she raised one victorious fist in the air. There was no one there to see it, but she celebrated with her own silent happy dance through the expanse of the small kitchen. And she didn’t just dance. She got down. She turned it out. She was a rock star of the kitchen in the crunkest sense, but that wasn’t the point. This breakthrough was huge. Monumental. And it wasn’t just about creating a new menu item to grace the display case; this was about finding a signature item that could put Flour Child on the confectionary map. This was about saving the store, her family’s legacy, and for the first time in a long time, she thought she stood a chance at doing just that.