Page 193 of Worth the Trip

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Go away.”

“Gladly. Love has already improved workplace compliance.”

I pointed the sandwich toward the front. “Move.”

She left, laughing.

Around noon, one of our wholesale customers arrived early. Jasmine had the order stacked and ready, but instinct still sent me toward the handcart when the left wheel caught near the side entrance.

“I’ve got it, Ms. Nolani.”

“I can help.”

Jasmine looked down at the boxes, then back at me. “You hired me because I can move ice cream without causing structural damage.”

“I hired you because you lied convincingly during the interview.”

“Then let me protect the integrity of the lie.”

I laughed and stepped aside.

“Watch the left wheel.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She maneuvered the cart through the doorway without incident.

I did not follow her.

Across the room, Nyla noticed.

I refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

The lunch crowd brought a family from Self Springs. The parents ordered butter pecan and vanilla bean while their teenage son asked whether we carried anything chocolate enough to repair betrayal.

“Relationship trouble?” I asked.

He looked toward his parents. “They told me we were getting lunch and brought me to a doctor’s appointment.”

His father nodded solemnly. “He was deceived.”

I offered him a sample of midnight chocolate truffle. “This won’t restore trust, but it may support negotiations.”

The boy tasted it and pointed toward the pan. “That one.”

His mother laughed while I prepared the cup. “We’ve been hearing about this place forever. I wish y’all had one closer to us.”

“Where in Self Springs?” Nyla asked.

“Near the west side. Have y’all ever done the Black Excellence Community Festival? It’s Saturday after next. They bring in Black-owned businesses from all over the county.”

I looked toward Nyla.

She looked toward me.

The woman continued, unaware she’d just introduced a new problem into my Monday. “You should apply. Y’all would do well out there, especially with the books.”