“Coming!” I call out to her. “Sorry,” I tell Jakob. “One minute.”
I hurry out of the bathroom to find Dani standing in the middle of the shop. She’s not alone.
“Look who I found!” she exclaims, turning proudly to reveal none other than Henry Summers, who is standing behind her, looking around him at the waterlogged damage.
“Hello, Emmie,” Henry says, meeting my eyes and giving me a heartwarming, lopsided smile. “I do hope I’m not intruding.” He looks adorable in a navy blue swazer and jeans with a simple gray T-shirt underneath. His hair is falling over his forehead. He’s giving off very Hugh Grant inNotting Hillvibes. I loveNotting Hill.
“Henry!” I’m surprised and delighted to see him, though I suddenly wish Dani had given me a little heads-up so I could brush the lunchtime grit from my teeth and smooth down my flyaways. At least I’m wearing my sexy new bra. “Good to see you again.” I give Henry my brightest, warmest smile. I wonder why he hasn’t called or texted. I wish I had a mint.
Out of the corner of my eye I see Jakob appear in the bathroom doorway with a wrench in one hand. He stands there silently, watching us. He’s always been a quiet observer, not saying much but missing absolutely nothing. Behind that wall of muscle and taciturn façade is a lightning-fast brain. He was always one of the smartest boys I knew.
“Hullo.” Henry spots him and crosses the room to Jakob, holding out his hand. “Henry Summers,” he says cordially in that plummy accent of his. It’s a little Benedict Cumberbatch and a little Hugh Grant.
“Jakob Kristensen.” They shake in a firm, manly way. I get the feeling they’re sizing each other up. Dani looks from one to the other, then catches my eye and grins, wiggling her eyebrows dramatically. She goes to where Jakob and Henry are standing. I roll my eyes at her and join the group.
“Henry Summers…” Jakob’s eyes narrow. “As in the guy on TV?”
“Ah yes, yes I am. Guilty as charged,” Henry admits. “But please don’t hold it against me.” His smile is self-deprecating. He seems to have no ego when it comes to his fame. In fact, he seems a little uncomfortable with it. It’s endearing.
Jakob smiles thinly in return but doesn’t say anything. Henry clears his throat and turns to me. “Emmie, Dani filled me in on your unfortunate plumbing situation. I’m so sorry. I hope all is set to rights soon. Is there any way I can help?”
I swear I hear a faint snort from where Jakob is standing in the doorway to the bathroom. “How handy are you with a wrench?” Jakob mutters so low I think I’m the only one to catch his words.
“That’s kind of you to offer, Henry,” I tell him, ignoring Jakob. “Actually, there is something you could do for me. I want your opinion on something. All of you, actually. Just a minute.”
I run into the kitchen and return with a Tupperware container of my newest creations.
“These are Rainier cherry and vanilla buttercream truffles,” I explain. “The cherries are locally grown. It’s my first new recipe in a long time.” I nervously dole them out, one to each person. “I want your honest opinion.”
I’m nervous as they each take a truffle. What if they don’t like them? What if I’ve lost my touch? It feels strangely vulnerable to be standing here waiting for others to test and pass judgment on my creation.
“Ooh, look at the fancy sprinkles,” Dani coos, admiring her truffle. “I like the bling.”
I dusted each truffle generously with the mysterious gold sprinkles. For courage. I pop a truffle into my mouth and lift my chin, waiting for feedback from the others, waiting for the courage to zip through me. There is a moment of silence, and then a chorus of approval. I feel a zing of excitement in my belly, and it’s not just from the truffle.
“That is one of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth,” Dani exclaims, putting her hand to her chest as though she’s about to swoon.
“Wow,” Jakob acknowledges. “That’s…really good.”
But it’s Henry I’m really waiting on. He rolls the truffle around in his mouth contemplatively. I watch his face closely.
“Emmie, this is…absolutely delicious,” he says finally, a note of wonder in his voice. “I can’t even quite put my finger on what it is that makes it so special…” he trails off as though puzzled.
“Does anyone else feel sort of warm and tingly?” Dani asks, looking bewildered. “Do these chocolates have booze in them, Emmie?”
“No booze, just a little magic,” I tell her with a smile.
Dani shoots me a quizzical look, and I hand her another truffle.
“Well, whatever they’ve got in them, you should definitely carry these in the new shop,” Dani says, popping the second one into her mouth.
“New shop?” Henry asks. I see Jakob’s head come up as well. All eyes are on me.
I close the lid on the Tupperware container and burp the air from it. “I’m opening my own chocolate shop,” I confirm. “I’ve dreamed of doing it for years, and now seems like the right time, so I’m going to give it a go.” I don’t add anything about the vision being the impetus, about how I’m hoping one day to see Henry proposing to me in that very chocolate shop.
“Emmie, that’s wonderful news!” Henry says, looking pleased. “Where are you going to open it? Are you thinking a culinary hot spot? Paris? Or closer to home? Perhaps New York or LA?”
“What’s wrong with Poulsbo?” Jakob almost growls from the doorway, frowning at Henry.
