How Sweet It Is (23 page)

Real life was still out there, waiting for her to return. Nothing had changed.

She looked at George. “It’s different with Molly. Everything is different with her.”

His eyes took on understanding. “Wow. I was waiting for this day. Just didn’t think it would come in this complicated little package. So what’s the plan, Stan? What are you going to do?”

It was quite simple. “I get my heart broken, I guess. That’s the plan. There’s no good ending to this one, George. I should run like hell before I’m in any deeper. I really should.”

“Because?”

Where should she even begin? “You’d have to go back quite a ways to understand. I’ve spent my whole life trying to reach the bar my sister so expertly set and failing miserably. It’s the story of my life. My parents wanted me to be more communicative and helpful, like Cassie. To go into the medical profession, like Cassie. At school, it was always, ‘your sister never would have gotten a B. Why don’t you try harder? Your sister was all-state in soccer, but it’s like you don’t want it bad enough.’” She took a moment and then met his eyes. “But I did want it bad enough, George. That’s the thing. I just fell short. And I don’t think I could bear to fall short when it comes to Molly. For her to see me that way, as some sort of consolation prize, that would be too much for me to take.”

“But if the world were perfect?”

She smiled, but her eyes filled. It took her a moment to form the words. “She would look at me and see someone she could possibly, maybe, one day fall in love with. I would measure up this time. That’s the unattainable fantasy.”

George put his arm around her and pulled her in tight. “Well, you do measure up as far as I’m concerned. I happen to think you’re pretty great.”

“Thank you, George.” She gave him a squeeze.

“Ready to go make these numbers happen?”

She pushed herself up and took his offered hand. “Let’s make some awesome movies together.”

*

Jordan woke the next morning to the buzzing of her phone. She checked the clock. It was just past seven a.m. Who in the world would be—and then she grinned as she realized
exactly
who was wide-awake and had been for hours.

Molly’s text message was simple. “You up yet, sleepyhead?”

She walked into the living room as she typed her response. “Of course. Got an early rise. Cows fed. Chickens walked. They’re getting good on the leash.”

“Impressive. Meet me in the park for lunch later?”

“I think I can swing it.” Jordan smiled as she typed, already thinking about Molly’s chocolate chip cookies. “I’ll bring lunch. You bring dessert.”

“The real kind? Or proverbial?”

Jordan swallowed and exhaled slowly before she answered. “I think I’m a bad influence on you.”

“The worst. I’ll bring both. See you at noon by the picnic tables.”

At eleven fifty-five, Molly rounded the corner into the recesses of the park. Jordan sat atop a picnic table and watched her maneuver the winding sidewalk. She wore faded jeans that sat low and a snug, short-sleeved turquoise scoop neck that had her radiating color and energy.

Molly stopped a few feet away and tilted her head. “Waiting for someone?”

“Nope. Just counting leaves. But since you’re here, we could hang out.”

“Serendipitous.”

“Big word. You must be smart too.”

“Oh, I am.”

Molly took her in. “Riding boots, aviators, and lip gloss. A fascinating combination.”

Jordan let her mouth fall open. “You don’t like my look?”

“I love your look. I’m in awe of your look. I would never have guessed how good those things would look together. Edgy and soft at the same time. Kind of like you.”

Jordan realized that she was being complimented and her heart did a little roll. She climbed down from the table, removed her aviators. “So, hi.”

“Hey,” Molly answered softly.

They took each other in a moment before Jordan produced a blanket. “Tables are overrated. Are we agreed?”

Molly slid her an amused look. “Oh, definitely. I don’t know why we put up with the things.”

“Great minds.”

Molly grinned and followed her to a patch of grass, delicately shaded by a generous oak. In a stroke of luck, the place was entirely theirs. There was a mother with a couple of small children at the playground near the entrance, but that was quite a ways back, and Jordan hadn’t spotted a soul this far into the park. They were completely on their own, and the privacy was a nice touch.

“So how’s your week going?” Jordan asked as she unpacked the contents of the large brown paper bag. She handed Molly an apple.

“You first.”

“My friend George came to visit. We worked on some details for the production company. It was great to see him.” She stopped a minute to watch Molly eat the apple, because really, it was a pretty great visual. “I’d love for you to meet him someday.”

“Me too. You should have brought him to Flour Child.”

“Next time. Now you go.”

Molly tossed Jordan the apple. “My week’s been pretty great. In the midst of all the commotion surrounding the festival, my dad breaking out of The Manor, and well, us, I never got to tell you my big news.”

Jordan took a bite of the apple. “Oh, I love big news. Let’s hear it.”

Molly took a deep breath. “The festival came through. A businessman from Chicago is interested in partnering with me to mass-produce the truffles. We have a meeting next week. If it goes through, I may not lose the shop. I know it’s not a done deal yet, but I can’t help feeling hopeful that this is the thing that will turn it all around.”

“You’re kidding. That’s wonderful. That’s more than wonderful. It’s—come here.” Molly laughed as Jordan reached across the blanket and pulled her into an embrace. Jordan couldn’t have been more excited if it had been her own amazing accomplishment. In fact, she knew this felt better.

Molly pulled back enough to meet her eyes. “Thank you for being my sounding board through this. It was nice to feel like I had someone in my corner.”

“I’ll always be in your corner.”

Molly nodded. “I’m starting to get that.” Her eyes dropped to Jordan’s mouth. She moved in slowly and then paused just a whisper away from her lips, almost as if she were giving Jordan the chance to stop her.

That wasn’t going to happen.

The second she saw Molly that day, all the reasons she’d been avoiding her, the doubts, the concerns flew immediately from her head. Her heart be damned.

Nothing with Molly was simple, but it wasn’t really like she had a choice.

Molly claimed her mouth in one hell of kiss, all soft and tentative at first, but ever deepening. She ran her hands from Molly’s shoulders, to her arms and intertwined their fingers. There was a light breeze blowing now that lifted their hair and swirled the branches above them. The chill it caused mirrored the one that was already moving through her at the soft feel of Molly’s skin. As they broke apart, Jordan stared at Molly, amazed at the snap, crackle, pop of the air between them.

“Someone promised me lunch,” Molly murmured, stealing one last kiss before sitting back on the blanket. “Unless our shared apple is the main course.” She took another bite, and Jordan marveled at the way she delicately licked the juice from her finger.

“You give good apple.”

Molly smiled the kind of smile that made Jordan want to kiss her some more. “Focus, you. What do we have for lunch?’

Jordan shook herself back into action. “Right. For lunch, we have a couple of to-go sandwiches from Sammy’s. Fresh chicken salad with grapes for you and roasted chicken with arugula for me. Oh, and kettle chips. Cannot forget the kettle chips.” She dropped the bag between them so they could share.

“You’re kind of awesome at lunch. I forgot it was chicken salad day.”

“Lunch is one of my better times.”

As they ate, they chatted about the ever-growing popularity of MollyDollys, the new receptionist at the clinic, and George’s lead on funding for the production company. By the end of it, they were full, happy, and ready to relax before heading back to work and the world.

“So it actually looks like it’s going to happen?” Molly lay on her side with her head propped up in her hand looking down at Jordan, who watched the trees from flat on her back.

“It does. George has set up a few meetings with some potential investors, but according to him, they’re really excited and already on board. A friend of his owns a newswire agency in San Diego, but has shown interest in doing something more creative with her millions. George swears by her and is going to set up a meeting when she’s in Chicago next month. I also have a few grant proposals I need to start working on. There’s lots of funding for this sort of thing out there.”

“I can’t wait to see your first film. You’re going to make documentaries, Jordan. Can you believe it? Important ones too. I know it.” She traced a circle in the palm of Jordan’s hand.

“I don’t know why it took me this long to understand that this is what I should be doing, driving my own projects. I do my best work when there’s passion involved.” Molly raised an eyebrow, causing both of them to smile at the implication.

“Today was fun,” Molly said, sobering. “It makes me want to have more days like this.”

The comment took Jordan by surprise, and she realized something. Molly’s face was far more relaxed, more open than she’d probably ever seen it. “Me too.” And because she simply had to, she reached out and swept the stray hair from Molly’s forehead. It
was
a great day. She couldn’t agree more.

Molly pushed herself into a seated position and looked back at Jordan, studying her almost as if she were trying to make her mind up about something. And then, she was all too serious. “Go on a date with me,” she said quietly.

Jordan sat up, unsure of what it was Molly was saying. “As in?”

“For real this time. I’ll be honest, Jordan, I don’t know that it can work between us, and we should both be prepared for that. What your parents will think terrifies me, but we have to level with ourselves about this, about us, and that means—”

Jordan felt a surge of something swell within her and she kissed Molly. She wanted to listen to her list all the reasons they deserved a real shot, because it was like music to her ears, but she couldn’t resist another minute. It was that kind of have-to.

When they came up for air, Molly stared back at her breathless. “That wasn’t an answer.”

“Oh right, that.” Jordan looked skyward in mock contemplation, which made Molly poke her in the ribs. “Ow, not if you’re going to do that a bunch. I can’t date you then.”

“No promises.”

Jordan sighed and allowed herself to drown in Molly’s eyes for a moment. “It seems I’m willing to risk it.”

They stared at each other as the weight of what they’d just decided settled over them. Jordan would be lying if she said she wasn’t worried. Molly was a lot to lose if things didn’t work out, and there was lots of opportunity for things not to work out. And the look on Molly’s face told her she was just as scared. “One day at a time, okay?” Molly said. “When do you go back to Chicago?”

“Four days.”

She whistled low. “Way to make this dramatic.”

“It’s my job to be dramatic. I want to live the movie, remember? Don’t you want to see what happens next?”

“I can hardly wait to see how this thing ends.”

“Good. Chicago’s only a little more than two hours away, and I like driving. Sometimes I sing really loud. It’s awesome.”

Molly laughed and brought her forehead to Jordan’s, cradling her cheek. “Is this completely crazy?”

“Yeah. But sometimes crazy pays off big, and I’m betting on us.”

*

“So a partnership?” Molly asked. She looked across the table at Grant Tranton while struggling to understand his proposal. It was after three on Thursday, and she’d closed the bakeshop early for the meeting and gave her employees the afternoon off. There was a plate of Knock Yourself Out Blueberry muffins sitting between them on the table, two of which Grant had already wolfed down.

“Exactly. I’ll, of course, hold controlling interest of the venture, as it’s my capital that will get the production up and running. I’ll also be the one handling the business side of things. In return, you’ll retain forty percent ownership of MollyDollys, which also means you’ll receive forty percent of any and all profits. He slid a sheet of paper across the table to Molly. “This is what I’m thinking we can do in sales next year. That bottom line would be your take.”

Molly lifted the sheet and did her damndest to mask her surprise at the figure.

He held up a hand. “It’s a projection, but my projections are right more often than not.”

“Okay.” She swallowed and looked again at the really nice number. She wanted to frame that number. Maybe take it out for dinner sometime. “Can you walk me through how all of this would work?”

“Essentially, we go into business together. Sign a few documents. You bring the truffles. I bring the distribution channels, the know-how, and my connections with several well-known retail outlets. Together, we make lots of beautiful money together. Sound good?”

She shook her head slowly. “But to produce that many truffles, I’d be working night and day. I don’t think—”

He laughed out loud, and there was something about it that made her feel foolish, like she knew so very little that he thought it was cute. “Understand we’d have to commercialize the process a bit. Produce the truffles on a grander scale at a facility in Chicago. We’d hire a group of workers. Correction, I’d hire them.”

“Mass production? The recipe isn’t designed to work that way.”

“Not to worry. They’ll still be handmade, just as they are now. Just in larger volume. We’ll actually be cutting costs in the end. By a lot.”

Molly tried to take it all in. “And what would be my role in all this?”

“That’s the best part. You’ve already done it. You’ve created the recipe. Added a cute little name and a story. I might need you for PR now and then and to sign off on an occasional business decision. But essentially, you get to sit back and reap the rewards.”