by Rachel Astor
His father’s test had been a success after all.
More importantly, he was one step closer to taking over.
Chapter Eleven
Dulcie couldn’t concentrate on classes with the competition coming up, which wasn’t a totally bad thing, since with the extra time away from school, the shop was running so much more smoothly.
Despite the original taste testing, Dulcie made the Salted Caramel Apple Enchantment at least five more times, with each batch changing the recipe slightly and documenting the results.
None of them ended up as good as that third batch.
Who knows how many more times she would have tried to “fix” it if she hadn’t had Nick to think about: the way his dark lashes made his eyes look so much sharper, so intense, like he could see the real her, how he always smelled like her favorite things in the world—chocolate, cinnamon, vanilla—and most of all the way he made her feel when they kissed, all her troubles melting away as easily as sponge toffee melted on her tongue.
When she had a chance to sneak away for an hour or two, the market became one of their favorite places to “hide” from Nick’s father and Grams.
“Doesn’t your dad ever come here for ingredients?” she asked. “I mean, not that I’m complaining. I get to pick up the ingredients I need for the shop and sneak in a few rare minutes to see you.” Her store couldn’t survive without the market.
Nick shrugged. “We get everything delivered now.”
She hated that the little tinge of jealousy still stung when he talked about the success of How Sweet It Is.
“Oh, right.”
He sighed. “It’s not the same, though. I remember coming here as a kid, and dreaming about all the new things my father would make for me to taste.”
Dulcie nodded. “Me, too.”
“But now it’s the same old stuff, day in and day out. He hasn’t made anything new, other than for the competition, in years.”
Dulcie felt like almost as much of a sell-out as Mr. Sugarman. If she hadn’t found her mom’s recipes, they wouldn’t have anything new, either.
She turned, pretending to be very interested in a persimmon at the closest booth.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, sure,” she said, smelling the fruit, avoiding his intense look. “Nervous about the contest, I guess,” she lied.
Nick nodded. “I have to say, I’ll be glad when it’s all over. Dad has been impossible to work with these past few weeks.”
Talking about the competition always made things between them—otherwise so comfortable and easy—a bit stilted. They were, after all, still competitors, and Dulcie was ready to do almost anything to win.
She nodded. “I wish we could travel together to the contest.” She would be driving the three hours to Boston with Grams.
“I know,” he said. “But I’m pretty sure my father would notice if I wasn’t going with him, not to mention be rather curious if I happened to show up with you.”
“Yeah.” Dulcie laughed a little. “Grams, too.”
“She’s coming?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Believe me, I was as surprised as you. She’s wanted nothing to do with the shop since Mom’s been gone—other than sampling, of course—but now she’s all excited for the competition. Ridiculous. She’s been driving me nuts asking about it every five minutes.”
“Really?” Nick said. “I’d better not tell my father she’s planning to be there. His head might pop right off his body.”
Dulcie laughed. “Maybe that’s why she decided to go.” She checked the time on her phone. “Speaking of, I should grab my ingredients. I’ve got to get a good supply of product made before we leave.”
“Yeah, I should be getting back to the store. Dad will be wondering where the hell I am by now. Probably running around the place making everyone’s lives miserable.” He paused, looking into her eyes. “Listen, good luck in Boston,” he added.
“Good luck to you, too,” Dulcie said, and meant it. “Whatever happens, let’s just agree to be happy for each other, okay? It’s just a contest after all. Right?”
“Exactly,” Nick said.
“Okay,” she agreed, suddenly unsure of what to do when they were saying good-bye.
Thankfully, Nick leaned in for a quick kiss, which turned into a not-so-quick kiss right in the middle of the market.
With Dulcie’s schedule, they’d had so little time alone. Nick usually ended up visiting her at the shop, so moments like these were few and far between. They weren’t about to start making out in the middle of Candy Land. Dulcie worried about someone seeing them in the market, too, though it was hard to concentrate on that when Nick’s lips felt so good, almost like they were made to fit with hers. And she’d be lying if she said that the possibility of someone catching them didn’t make it more exciting.
Finally, they broke apart. It was always a little bittersweet as Nick walked away. Bitter that he left…sweet that she could watch him saunter. He was quite a sight to behold, especially the way his designer jeans fit him oh so well.
She grabbed the nicest apples at her favorite fruit booth, along with some specialty sugars and cocoa, and practically skipped back to Candy Land Confections.
The next morning, Dulcie got up extra early to make the rest of the supply to keep the shop going while they were gone, then made the Salted Caramel Apple Enchantment.
“The customers are going nuts out here,” Constance said an hour later, peeking into the kitchen. “They want to know what smells so good.”
Dulcie’s face warped into panic mode. “Don’t say anything! We can’t have this leak now, right before the competition.”
“I know, but what am I supposed to tell them?” she whisper-yelled.
“Tell them we’re working on something top secret.”
“Oh yeah, that’ll make their curiosity go away,” Constance said.
“Well, I don’t know, I can’t do everything around here,” Dulcie snapped.
A microsecond after she said it, Constance’s face made her want to take it back. It wasn’t Constance’s fault everything depended on the competition. Cripes, Dulcie didn’t even know how much was riding on it; it could be everything. Especially since, as expected, the customer stream was already becoming more of a meandering creek. Still busier than they used to be, but slowing into something much less demanding.
It broke Dulcie’s heart that she would probably be back at school next week. Now that she’d been away from it for a while, it seemed like more of a chore than ever.
She tried not to think about it, concentrating on the task at hand.
By noon, Dulcie had two batches of samples all packed up, and plenty other treats for Grams to snack on for the drive. She grabbed her invitation and rushed out. Of course she had to meet Grams at home, since Grams refused to pick her up at the store.
She struggled with the packages the whole way home. Yeah, this is a whole lot more convenient than stopping out front of the shop, she thought, hiking her bag back onto her shoulder for the millionth time, careful not to jolt the chocolates.
Grams wasn’t even there to get the front door for her; she was probably too busy putting on one last coat of lipstick. ‘Cause, you know, always look your best, even though everyone else on the road is in their comfiest clothes.
As expected, Grams waltzed out of her room in heels and a cute ruffled suit jacket. “What took you so long?” she asked, checking her delicate bracelet watch. “We can’t be late.”
“Uh, yeah, I am well aware,” Dulcie said, flopping the contents of her arms over the dining room table, though gently setting down the two boxes of samples first. “I would have been ready a long time ago if I didn’t have to trek all the way home with this stuff,” she said, motioning to the table.
Grams pursed her lips. “Well, are you ready now?” she asked, dodging the hint.
Dulcie sighed. “Yeah, I’m ready, I just need to grab my suitcase out of my room.
Go ahead and start putting stuff in the car if you like.”
Grams picked up the two sample boxes. Which, obviously, were the two smallest things that needed to go out.
Dulcie watched her.
“What?” Grams said. “I already hauled my stuff to the car ages ago. It’s your turn.” She pranced out, daintily carrying the two small boxes with her fingertips.
“Thanks, Grams,” Dulcie yelled as she went to her room, wondering if she at least had time to change.
The sweater she wore had a splotch of sugar near the hem. She pulled it over her head as the car horn honked. She sighed, grabbing the first thing in her closet, barely glancing at it.
Grams stared to the heavens as Dulcie struggled out to the car, shoving her suitcase in the backseat after discovering Grams’s three cases already filled the trunk.
“How on earth do you think you’re ever going to find a man looking like that?” Grams asked, giving Dulcie the once over.
Dulcie glanced down, realizing her top wasn’t the plain gray T-shirt she thought it was when she put it on, but the Marvin the Martian one she hadn’t worn in years, all wrinkled and smelling rather stale.
Of course there wasn’t time to grab a new one.
“What?” Dulcie asked, feigning innocence. “I like this shirt.”
Grams shook her head, glancing to the sky again as she backed out of the drive.
Dulcie wanted nothing more than to tell her she already had found a man, and not just any man, either, but a sexy, delicious smelling, gourmet cupcake-baking man at that. She hated that a little voice in the back of her mind kept telling her he was too good to be true. And she knew saying anything would most certainly make the upcoming drive much, much longer.
Dulcie never minded the road trip so much—in fact, the ride used to be one of her favorite parts of the competition, watching out the big windows as all the towns went by for what seemed like forever. Even though the drive was only a few hours, this time it seemed even longer than it had back then. Of course, that may have had something to do with Grams asking almost nonstop about her relationship prospects.
Dulcie sighed.
“Oh, I know I’m a huge pain in your ass,” Grams said, slapping Dulcie’s hand gently. “And I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up at the store. You can’t imagine how much I want to go back there, Dulce, I really do. But then I think of your mother and…”
Dulcie glanced over when the silence got to be a little long. She squeezed Grams’s hand.
“I’ve tried so many times. You have no idea how many times I’ve driven up the street and gotten about a block away, only to turn right back around again. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
A tear or two snuck into Dulcie’s eyes and she leaned her head on Grams’s shoulder.
Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst car ride ever.
Grams cleared her throat. “So anyway, do you think there will be any eligible bachelors at this thing or what?” she asked.
Or maybe it would.
They finally reached the hotel where the event was held every year. It had been a miracle they’d even gotten a room at all, considering how late Dulcie had decided to enter, but Grams had managed to secure one of the last ones.
Dulcie was so tired. It was past her bedtime, considering when she usually got up, and her ridiculous wrinkled shirt was even worse than when she’d put it on, the armpits kind of tight and sticky and generally making her a bit claustrophobic. She did not even want to think about what she smelled like.
Grams had never been fresher, having slept the last hour and reapplied her lipstick just as they pulled up to the hotel. Since Dulcie had taken over the driving, she was afforded no such luxury.
Grams click-clacked ahead in her little heels and pencil skirt, rolling two pink suitcases, while Dulcie struggled with her own luggage, Grams’s final case (the non-rolling one), and the two boxes of chocolates for the contest, one of which she had to carry in her mouth. Thank goodness she didn’t know anyone well enough to recognize her out of the context of the contest.
At least she hoped not as she glanced around the lobby, trying to wither into the stupid Marvin the Martian shirt and hide behind the chocolates in her mouth.
And then disaster struck.
Okay, not disaster exactly, but Nick.
Which, considering the way Dulcie looked, was definitely a disaster.
He hung out way back in the lobby, sort of hiding behind a tall, fake plant. When Grams glanced up in his general direction, he ducked his head, the plant engulfing him.
When he peeked back out, Dulcie shot him a “what the heck is going on” look, but he just mouthed, Meet here, ten minutes, holding his hands up to show the number.
There was no way she could make herself half-presentable in ten minutes, but Grams had already checked in, now waiting for Dulcie to join her. Dulcie caught Nick’s eye, nodding. And pretty much dying over her appearance.
Nick sauntered off, the picture of nonchalance.
Dulcie sprinted the rest of the way to the front desk, hoping to make it to the room fast enough to change, fix her hair, and come up with some reason she had to leave that wouldn’t make Grams suspicious.
Of course, Grams insisted on chatting with the desk clerk for approximately ten hours before she led Dulcie to the elevators.
“What’s wrong with you?” Grams asked as Dulcie jittered.
“Um…” Dulcie said, “bathroom. I have to go to the bathroom. Could we hurry, please?”
Grams screwed her face into distaste, as if she had never had to endure such tragedy, but thankfully walked at a quicker click-clack than before once they reached their floor.
Dulcie threw her suitcase onto one of the beds and rummaged until she found a decent black top.
“I knew you hated that shirt,” Grams said, chuckling as Dulcie raced into the bathroom.
Dulcie almost didn’t change just to mess with her, until, that is, she thought of Nick. It was the first time she got a glimpse of herself in a mirror since before work that morning, which was a good sixteen hours ago. She realized she wasn’t a supermodel of course, but she had no idea how bad it had been. Her hair was almost more out of her ponytail than in, and what little makeup she’d been wearing had faded hours ago.
She tried not to think about what Nick must have thought when she’d trudged into the lobby.
Busy changing and doing what she could with her hair in the allotted thirty seconds, then whipping on some mascara, blush, and lip gloss, she’d forgotten she was supposed to come up with an excuse to get out of the hotel room and away from Grams. She stood in front of her, her brain whirring like an egg beater, with nothing to show for it but an open mouth and a blank expression on her face.
“Well, aren’t you going to go enter the chocolates?” Grams asked. “I mean, isn’t that what we’re here for?”
An angelic choir sang through the cavernous corners of Dulcie’s overtired brain. “Yup, sure am,” she said, hoping she sounded like she’d been planning it all along, when honestly, the moment she’d noticed Nick, she’d pretty much forgotten all about the competition.
One last glance in the mirror—an immense improvement—and she plucked one of the sample boxes off the bed and left Grams reading the hotel amenities pamphlet. No doubt Grams already had visions of saunas and mud baths in her near future.
Dulcie was late.
Only by about five minutes, but still, what if Nick just had a tiny window to meet her and she’d already blown it? Plus, she still had to get the entry checked in, with all the paperwork it entailed.
She was tired of waiting for time alone with him. She decided to go to Nick first.
Chapter Twelve
Nick watched Dulcie glance both ways, looking nervous. He grinned as she quickly snuck behind the tree, joining him in his covert hiding place. A thrill jolted through him, as if they were on a secret mission or something. Which he guessed they kind of were.
She’d changed. He’d kind
of liked the Marvin the Martian T-shirt and crazy hair, not that he was complaining about this sexy black shirt and smoothed out hair, though. Either way, she was perfect. A little thrill shot through him as he imagined she’d fixed herself up for him, hoping she was as excited for their little rendezvous as he was.
He’d been standing in the lobby for so long, he knew everyone in the room. An older gentleman with round glasses sat reading in one of the large chairs for an hour already, and a businesswoman had just gone into the restroom.
The problem was, there wasn’t much space for both of them behind the somewhat spindly fake tree.
It didn’t matter; she was closer this way.
“So…your place or mine?” he asked, mentally kicking himself for his lame joke.
Her face was a little confused, and she took a step back.
His eyes grew wide. “I didn’t mean it like that; I just meant we should get out of this lobby in case your Grams or my dad decide to make an entrance.”
She grinned. “I know. I just wanted to make you sweat a little.”
He let out the breath he’d been holding. “Oh, good.”
“Well, my room comes with a grams attached, so if you’ve got one all to yourself, it might be our best option.”
Nick nodded and smiled again. “Let’s go.”
Dulcie looked at the box of chocolates in her hand.
“Do you want to get those signed into the contest before we go up?” Nick asked.
Dulcie checked her phone for the time. “They don’t have to be in for a few hours.” She leaned toward the ballroom area where the contest was being held. “And there’s a line in there right now,” she said. Each year there were dozens of entries, which were whittled down to ten finalists. The finalists would come back in two weeks, tweaking their prized recipes as need be. It was quite a production, but the Assembly of Chocolatiers seemed to have a lot of money to spend. Chocolate never went out of style.
She cleared her throat. “I’ll work on the description for my entry while we’re up there. That way, it’ll be quicker to fill out the form when I get back down.”
