He takes one and examines it. “Why is it pink?”
“I used ruby chocolate. It’s naturally pink,” I explain. “Most cocoa beans are fermented, but these are left unfermented and then combined with natural acids to produce the pink color. Also a very pleasant creamy texture. Try it.”
“Emmie, is this rose I taste in the filling”—Henry pokes his head into the bathroom where we’re standing—“and…cardamom, perhaps?”
“Exactly!” I beam at him. “You win a prize.” I offer him another truffle. “Those are rose petals from our own garden.”
“These, my dear, take the biscuit.” Henry examines the truffle, clearly intrigued. “What you’ve done with the combination of flavors. I’ve never had anything quite like it. It’s like a little bite of pure happiness.” He looks at me in open admiration.
Jakob bites into his truffle hard and shoots Henry a dark look. I beam at the praise. This is why I’m opening my own store, I remind myself. Not just because I saw a vision or because of Henry’s encouragement, but because I love making chocolates that spread a little joy. The world is full of grief and hardness, and Ilove the idea of something I made being given as a gift, a consolation, or a celebration. Each truffle can brighten a moment, make it special and sweet, and then it’s gone, leaving only a lovely memory. I love making something that helps people make memories out of moments.
“It’s really good,” Jakob tells me quietly. “I was skeptical about the pink chocolate.”
“I know it’s unique, but I love making something that’s both delicious and surprising,” I explain. “In Paris I was just starting to experiment with flavor combinations like this when I had to come home. Now that I’m making chocolates again, I’m starting to experiment with ingredients that grow in the Pacific Northwest. I’ve got a smoked salted caramel with salt from San Juan Island that will knock your socks off.” I say it confidently, and it comes out a little flirty too. Jakob looks up sharply. Our eyes catch. One corner of his mouth ticks up in amusement.
“I’d like to try one of those,” he says huskily, but I almost can’t hear him.
Something is happening to my knees under that silver gaze. His eyes don’t seem icy cold. I was wrong. They’re not glacial-milk blue. They’re the color of the hottest August afternoon sky, when the heat burns away the blue and leaves only a pale haze.
Henry clears his throat. “Emmie, I think Azra and Crisanto have everything squared away. Shall we get started?” He looks between me and Jakob, a tiny frown furrowing his brow.
In an instant I’m jerked back to reality. I glance from Jakob to Henry and clutch my Tupperware container against my chest like armor. What is happening? I’m supposed to be falling for Henry Summers, not getting caught up in the unreadable gaze of my greatest friendship failure.
“Yes, of course. I’m ready,” I tell Henry firmly, turning awayfrom Jakob.Stop looking back, I scold myself, marching out of the bathroom and away from temptation. Jakob is my past, but Henry holds the keys to my future. Resolutely, I follow Henry without a backward glance, but I can feel Jakob’s eyes on me every step of the way.
Chapter 16
“Emmie.” Henry’s voice is low and warm in my ear, making the fine hairs on my arms stand up. I shiver even though we’re standing in the sun in front of the store and it’s turning out to be a very pleasant morning.
“Yes?” I whisper, keeping the stilted grin plastered to my face as Crisanto slowly walks forward a few steps, filming the opening shot. I’ve been dreading this moment, when the camera starts rolling. I don’t love being the center of attention. I get stiff and awkward and wooden, and my mind goes blank. But I have to do this. It’s important and it’s going to be worth it.
“It’s natural to be a little nervous,” Henry observes gently. That’s being generous. I can feel that the smile stretching my face is more of a rictus, a horribly frozen fake grin I can’t seem to stop. I look like I’m being held at gunpoint and commanded to smile.
But then Henry’s hand is touching my bare arm, steady and reassuring. He seems perfectly comfortable in the eye of the camera. “This is very informal. Just relax and be yourself,” Henry tellsme with an encouraging smile. “Let’s see if we can make this fun, shall we?” He gives my arm a little squeeze and peers into my eyes. “I’m right here,” he tells me. I swallow and feel my smile slip into something that feels more natural.
After that, I loosen up. Having Henry with me helps a lot. He’s so at ease in front of the camera, so genuine and relaxed, that within a few moments I forget about my nerves and start having fun with him. We banter. We walk through Poulsbo, Crisanto trailing after us getting footage of the town—the shops, the harbor, the bay. Back at the Happy Viking, I show Henry around our shop, telling a few cute anecdotes about growing up in a candy store. Mom pops on camera midmorning to share about how she and Dad ran it for so many years together. It’s a sweet moment. She even shows their wedding photo, and a picture of the day they opened the store. They’re standing with their arms wrapped around each other, looking exhausted and so hopeful and in love. I feel a twist of longing in my belly when I see that photo. I want that kind of love. It’s what I’ve been waiting for, what I hoped my vision would finally show me. I cross my fingers and concentrate on Henry. Maybe my someday isn’t far away.
The hours fly by as we film different parts of the episode. Henry goes over each segment beforehand with me. I refresh my lipstick and smooth my hair a dozen times. By midmorning I’ve found a rhythm and rapport with Henry that feels natural and flirty and really quite enjoyable.
We take a break for lunch, sitting on a bench outside the shop in the sunshine, eating sandwiches from Britt’s Delish Café and washing it down with more coffee for me and tea for Henry. I’m buzzed and energized and a little giddy. I haven’t felt this alive in…I can’t remember when. This is actually really fun!
“Azra says the footage we’re getting is great. This is going to be a really engaging episode. You’re a natural,” Henry tells me, taking a bite of his turkey and Swiss sandwich.
“I’m really not,” I assure him. “You just make it feel easy.” I unwrap my turkey pesto and take a big, unselfconscious bite.
Henry smiles, looking pleased. “I’m glad to hear you think so.”
“What do you like about this work?” I ask, taking a sip of coffee.
Henry chews and considers. “I enjoy the travel,” he says. “New places, new food. All of that intrigues me. But I love the stories the most, the human aspect of the job. The world is full of sad and difficult things, and I get to highlight some of the unsung heroes, the people who help make their communities better places to live. I like spreading that hope around. I like getting to meet and champion people like you, Emmie.”
“Oh.” I wave away the compliment. “I’m not a hero. I’m just a tired mom trying to keep all the pieces from falling apart.” I give a self-deprecating little chuckle.
Henry looks at me gravely. “Emmie, anyone who can run a business, raise a child, and take care of a parent in poor health, not to mention be involved in the community like you are, is an unsung hero. Everyone knows you here, everyone loves you. I don’t think you see how remarkable you are.”
I blush beet red and have to look away, concentrating on my sandwich. It flusters me when Henry looks at me like that, like I’m worthy of admiration. I haven’t felt this admired in…well, since Romaine. And what a disaster that was. But this is different, I remind myself. This is Henry. The man I am supposed to fall in love with. The man who, according to my vision, is going to get down on one knee and ask me to marry him one day. The thought boggles my mind. How lucky am I?
In the afternoon, Crisanto films while Mom and I reenact the scene in the kitchen where she tells me about the nest egg and we decide to move forward with me opening my own shop. Of course we don’t mention the vision, but Dani does get to make an appearance, playing the role of supportive friend, which she hams up. She wears her red romper and has big hair and an even bigger personality on camera. She’s a force of nature. Mr. Butters makes an appearance too, wearing his best bow tie and uttering several long-suffering grunts and snuffles on camera. I make fudge as Mom, Dani, and I chat. It feels a little stiff, but when Mom offers me the money to open the shop, we both tear up again for real. Looking at her, I’m overwhelmed with gratitude. She lives with daily pain but never stops loving those around her as best she can. She’s a true hero, and I’m so glad Henry is highlighting her generosity and the legacy she and my dad built together.
