Meet Me at the Fudge Shop (Jonathon Island #3)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

G enius didn’t always strike at three a.m. on a Friday in June, but when it did, it involved caramel, a decadent truffle center, and roasted cashews—all wrapped in a hand-dipped, dark chocolate shell with a zigzag of white chocolate garnish to make it pop.

Lily Hart’s secret ingredient? Bergamot oil, just the right number of drops to create a citrusy, herby deliciousness.

Elusive. Mesmerizing. Sublime.

So what if she hadn’t slept last night? Hadn’t even gone home after working a grueling twelve-hour shift. But that’s what was demanded if you wanted to be an apprentice to Master Chocolatier Oscar Granger at Palm Coast’s Florida Sullivan Resort.

Who needed sleep, anyway?

This was brilliance. And yes, it had taken her all night, but these candies were her ticket to having Oscar’s ear at long last. To being more than a grunt worker.

To finally proving to herself—to everyone back home—that she was successful. Or at least was on her way.

She glanced past the gleaming commercial-grade, stainless steel prep station, where The Sullivan’s kitchen staff would soon be cooking up one of the best breakfast spreads this side of Orlando, toward the gleaming glass clock set over the swinging double doors that led to an opulent dining room.

Soon, Oscar and her fellow apprentices would walk into the kitchen and make their way toward the pastry section in the back corner, roll up their sleeves, and begin another day of creating the award-winning desserts worthy of The Sullivan’s acclaim.

And she’d have one already prepared for Chef Oscar Granger, award-winning, albeit exacting, baker, head of the pastry kitchen.

He’d take one look—and then one taste and…

Well, her big sacrifice of moving thirteen hundred miles from home, hours and hours of training, and even the scrutiny of her resort boss, Daniel Sullivan, would be worth it.

Not an apprentice anymore, but a full-on bakery chef, in one of the best pastry kitchens in Orlando, with multiple convection and deck ovens and space for roll-in ovens when needed, plus a stove, a long wooden island for bread making, a marble one for tabling chocolate, three massive refrigerators, a proofing case, two mixers, and every other tool a pastry chef could desire.

Take that, Declan-the-Jerk Kelley.

Blinking away the exhaustion that kept sneaking up on her, Lily took a swig of her coffee, now cold, and leaned down to take one final look over her confections at eye level.

Ten gorgeous chocolates seemed to wink back at her from their placement on a simple white plate with a golden caramel spiral.

She inhaled the sweet, rich chocolate aroma.

Mmm. Yes. Genius.

Grabbing her pen, she added one final word to her recipe card.

Enjoy.

“Lily!”

She jumped, her pen clattering onto the island as she glanced up to find her coworker-slash-friend Kayleigh standing over her, hands on her hips.

Kayleigh sported a frown to go with her stark-white apron and brown hair pulled tight into a bun at the base of her neck. “How long have you been here?”

“Hi.” Lily straightened, smiled. “All night. But look what beauty my efforts produced.”

“All night? But why?”

“I couldn’t exactly create on my wonky stovetop. I needed the chocolate tempering machine?—”

“No,” Kayleigh said. “Why?” She pointed to the dessert.

Oh. “I just told you. I was creating.” Lily rotated the plate. “Oscar can’t ignore my suggestions anymore once he tastes these. I’ve worked here five years, Kayleigh. Five years of making the same old boring chocolates.”

“And I’ve been here three. What’s your point?”

“It’s time for a change.”

Kayleigh gave her a look. “Oscar hates change.”

“He only thinks he hates change. But when he tastes these, he’ll change—his mind, that is.”

“I highly doubt that.” Kayleigh lifted an eyebrow and pushed Lily’s cup of coffee toward her, as if to indicate she needed to drink more.

Fine, maybe she was getting punchy.

Lily drained her cup and tossed it into the garbage. “You’ll see. These chocolates will wake him up from the boring dessert world he’s been living in. He’ll discover there are more ingredients than caramel, walnuts, and peanut butter—though I have nothing against any of them, if jazzed up a bit.”

“Oscar likes classic desserts. That’s the job, Lily.

Besides, since when does the word dessert belong with boring ?

” Kayleigh glanced back at the door. “He’s going to be here in ten minutes.

And we’re supposed to be prepping for the McAllen wedding.

” She’d donned her pastry hat. “What kind of bride doesn’t want a cake? ”

“I think it’s fun—a dozen different desserts and chocolates for the dessert table instead. Which is why I made these.”

Kayleigh shook her head. “You know Oscar’s never going to accept one of your suggestions, right?”

“You don’t know that. Last month, Carlos suggested we add sprinkles to the strawberry Pop-Tart fudge for that kid’s birthday bash we catered, and Oscar agreed to try it.”

“But that was Carlos .”

“Yeah, the Golden Boy.” She finger-quoted the words. “The man has zero imagination. Sprinkles? For a ten-year-old boy? How about the sparklers I suggested?”

“Carlos is smarter than you think. He’s already created a five-year plan to own his own shop. He’s going places.”

Lily blinked at her. “And what, I’m stuck in a vat of cooling chocolate hardening around my feet? Seriously. Did you not see these chocolates?” She held up the plate. “ Perfection. ”

But Kayleigh wasn’t looking at her. In fact, she pushed past her and peered into the tempering machine. “Lily, you need to clean this. You know Oscar insists on a spotless kitchen at the start of the day.”

Oh. “I guess I got too involved with finishing the chocolates.” She hurried toward the tempering machine, grabbed a ten-pound mold, and flipped the switch to empty what was left of the chocolate from last night’s batch into it.

The chocolate pumped out steadily at first, then slower, filling the air with the sugar-laden smell of melted chocolate.

“I’ll get these.” Kayleigh walked Lily’s spatula and a few other tools to the sink and began washing them.

“Thank you.” The chocolate stream ended, and Lily moved the chocolate mold to the counter. Then she removed the auger from the machine and placed it in the right side of the sink. “I’ll wash that in a minute.”

“I don’t mind.”

Lily stopped at the exasperation in Kayleigh’s tone. “Clearly you do.”

Kayleigh picked up the mold, started scrubbing. “You just always do this.”

“Do what?”

“Lose track of time, get your head stuck in the clouds, forget about what you’re supposed to be doing.”

Her words struck something deep inside Lily—and a memory surfaced from long ago. Another voice, much angrier, more masculine, saying similar things. She pushed the thought aside. No. She was different now.

But Kayleigh’s words still stabbed at her. And maybe she hadn’t changed that much because shoot, it ignited all her defenses.

“What I’m supposed to be doing here is becoming a better chocolatier. Learning from one of the greats. But how can we become great, how can we push ourselves to become better, if we aren’t allowed to experiment, to create? That’s the best part of this whole job.”

Kayleigh dropped the clean mold into the rinse sink, looked at her, suds on her arms. “The best part of this job is keeping it. We’ve got an amazing opportunity here.”

“I know that.”

“Especially after the pandemic.” Kayleigh dove again into the sudsy water, this time with the auger. “You’re lucky you had a connection with Mr. Sullivan. I waited two years, and called every week, hoping they’d take my apprentice application.”

No, she was lucky that her childhood friend Dani Sullivan had talked up Lily to her father, Daniel, who had grown up eating the Hart Family Fudge.

No, lucky might be her family’s shop not dying after the pandemic.

Maybe she didn’t believe in luck, really. Just…reality. Tempered occasionally with a good dessert. Like Mr. Sullivan said, desserts brought people together.

She wanted to believe that with everything inside her.

“Listen, I’m grateful that Oscar hired me.”

“Are you?” More suds went flying as Kayleigh dropped the auger into the rinse sink. “Because you seem intent on throwing that opportunity away.”

Okay, ouch. “I just think this job should be, I don’t know, fun. Creative.” She scraped the remaining chocolate down the drain.

Kayleigh sighed. “I’m sorry, Lily. I shouldn’t have said that. You’ve clearly got a lot of talent. I just think you should be careful. Stay focused. I won’t always be here to clean up your messes.”

Lily’s head shot up. Never mind the clean up your messes part. “Are you leaving ?”

Kayleigh grabbed a towel. Turned, her mouth tight.

Oh no.

Finally, “Oscar recommended me for a job as Assistant Master Chocolatier at a new hotel in Nashville.”

A beat. Then, somehow, “Wow. Congratulations,” emerged from her mouth. Nah, she could do better. Kayleigh was her friend . “That sounds like an amazing opportunity. But I’ll miss you.”

Kayleigh lifted a shoulder. “They wanted someone with a degree. Otherwise, I’m sure Oscar would have recommended you, since you’ve been here longer than me.”

She didn’t bother to argue that an associate’s degree was a degree. But Lily knew what Kayleigh meant. They wanted a bachelor’s degree, and Kayleigh had graduated top of her class with a bachelor’s in Chocolates and Confectionery Arts Entrepreneurship from the Sunshine State Culinary Institute.

The same program Lily had failed out of five years ago. So yeah, there was that.

“Lily…” Kayleigh took a step toward her.

Lily held up her hand. “I’m fine. It’s fine. And great for you. Seriously. You deserve it.” She gave Kayleigh a quick hug. “And to celebrate—here.” She moved to her plate of chocolates, pulling one off and holding it out to Kayleigh’s hands. “You can be the first to try them.”

“You haven’t tried one yet?”