Chapter 7 #3
The shop was full of tourists. They were packed in the small, fragrant space, and Vanessa hung back, noticing a tray of samples set on another small white table next to the entrance.
They were all carefully labeled: champagne chocolate, strawberry truffle, espresso salted caramel, maple pecan, cinnamon chocolate.
Vanessa’s mouth watered as she read the labels, and she couldn’t decide which one to try. They all sounded incredible.
“Take one of each!” A child’s voice chirped right next to her elbow. “Mommy won’t mind.”
Vanessa jumped a little, turning to see a little girl who looked to be about six or seven standing there, wearing a rather elaborate tiara on her head that looked homemade. It was bright silver and pearlescent, covered in sparkles and wrapped with tinsel, with a spiral horn poking up from the top.
“It’s always good to ask your mother’s permission though,” Vanessa said automatically, looking at the little girl. “What’s up with the headpiece?”
The little girl grinned. “I’m a Christmas unicorn!” she informed Vanessa gleefully. “I’m going to lead Santa’s sleigh.”
Vanessa laughed. “What happened to Rudolph?” she asked. “Did his nose finally go out?”
“No.” The little girl shook her head. “Unicorns are just much better. So they took over.”
“Makes sense.” Vanessa eyed the chocolates again.
“Katie.” A voice from behind the counter called out, in a playful, fond tone that was only a little chiding. “Leave the poor woman alone.”
Vanessa turned to see a pretty woman who looked to be about her age behind the counter, smiling warmly at the little girl.
She was wearing a festive red sweater and jeans under an apron that had the store’s name on the top in curling red script, and her chestnut brown hair was pulled back into a high ponytail.
She came out from around the counter, gesturing to the table of samples.
“The maple pecan is one of our most popular holiday flavors,” she said with a smile.
“And the cocoa dusted peppermint truffles. Also, the holiday fudge!” The woman pointed to a line of small wedges of fudge in ruffled papers.
“Maple, pecan bourbon, peppermint, and eggnog. They’ve been flying off the shelves. ”
Vanessa picked up a sliver of maple fudge, and sighed as she tasted it. It was delicious, melt-in-her-mouth good, and so sugary that she couldn’t imagine eating more than a few bites.
“This is wonderful,” she said, eating the last of the small sample. “Do you happen to know what Mabel’s favorite chocolate is?”
It felt like an odd question, one she could never ask at a shop in San Francisco, but here it seemed logical that one shop owner would know another’s favorite.
Jackson probably knew all the regulars’ breakfast orders.
Whoever owned the bookstore probably knew their usual customers’ favorite genres.
This seemed like the kind of place where that sort of thing happened.
It seemed oddly nice, despite how unfamiliar the idea of that was to her.
“She likes the marshmallow dark chocolates,” the woman said immediately. “I’m Imogen Sanders, by the way. Are the chocolates a thank-you gift? Mabel does such a lovely job with the shop every year.”
“Vanessa Stewart,” Vanessa said, quickly introducing herself. “I’m her granddaughter. But I’ve been away for a while, so I don’t remember a lot about what she likes and doesn’t like.”
“Oh? Where are you from?” Imogen asked, and she looked genuinely interested. Not like she was storing up information to gossip about later, but like she was actually curious about what Vanessa’s life was like back home.
It was something Vanessa wasn’t used to, but it was a nice feeling. It made her actually want to tell Imogen.
“I’m from San Francisco,” she said with a smile. “Well, actually, I’m from here. But my parents moved to California when I was a kid. And then I went to college in San Fran, and stayed there after.”
“That’s amazing!” Imogen’s eyes widened. “That sounds like such an adventure, living in a city like that. It must be very cool.”
“It can be,” Vanessa hedged, not wanting to admit how little she actually got out and explored the city she lived in, which was, in fact, very cool.
“Well, I’ll get a box of those marshmallow dark chocolates together for you,” Imogen said. “And tomorrow I’ll have white chocolate candy cane fudge. You should come by tomorrow and try it.”
“There’s such a variety.” Vanessa turned from side to side, taking in the shop. “I’ve never seen so much chocolate. And so many different kinds.”
Imogen laughed brightly. “Well, besides what you see here, I supply chocolate to some local shops. Anything chocolate the diner serves, desserts at the Tavern, anything sold at the bookshop—all that comes from me. I even supply some to my friend Lincoln, who owns the ice-skating rink. He has a hot-chocolate stand there.”
“That’s really impressive.” Vanessa looked around the shop again. “I just might stop by tomorrow and try that,” she added, taking the now-wrapped box of chocolates from Imogen’s hands. “Thanks for letting me know about it.”
She took the box of chocolates, turning to head back out of the shop. Just as she was about to step out onto the sidewalk, she very nearly ran smack into a blue-and-black plaid shirt, one that smelled distractingly of coffee and pumpkin spice.
“Jackson!” She gasped, taking a step back before they collided with one another on the steps of the shop. “Hi there.”
His cheeks instantly colored, and he cleared his throat, his expression a bit flustered. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Vanessa narrowed her eyes slightly. He clearly was trying to play it off as if he hadn’t expected to see her, but she wasn’t entirely buying it. It wasn’t very convincing, and she had a feeling that he had, in fact, been trying to bump into her.
“I was just stopping by for a little treat. And to get something for my grandmother.” She held up the box of chocolates. “The maple fudge is amazing.”
“So I’ve heard.” Jackson’s cheeks were still red, and Vanessa started to dart around him.
“Anyway, I should be getting back to the shop. Have a nice day!”
“Actually—” Jackson’s hurried tone stopped her before she could start down the sidewalk.
“I saw you came into the diner earlier for coffee. But I thought maybe you could use another pick-me-up,” he added, rushing on as he held out a travel mug toward her.
It didn’t look like the other diner cups.
It was insulated metal, with a buffalo plaid motif.
Vanessa looked at it, confused. “Isn’t that yours?”
“Haven’t touched it,” he assured her. “Coffee with three pumpkin spice creamers, just like you got this morning. Just come return the mug when you’re done.”
Vanessa fought back a smile. It was a sweet gesture, if a little… odd. She couldn’t help feeling like it was a ploy to see her again.
Jackson thrust it toward her. “I’m sure you’ll have enough time to return it before you leave town, yeah?”
“I’m planning on leaving Friday morning. My flight goes out early—a red eye.” She took the travel mug from his hands, feeling the heat from it sink through her gloves. “But I’ll return the mug before then. Thank you.”
She saw the disappointment flash across his face the moment she said she was leaving Friday morning.
Her heart tripped a little in her chest as she caught it, because she couldn’t recall anyone ever looking at her like that before.
Like they really, really wanted her to stick around, and were sad that she wasn’t going to.
Even Russell just looked annoyed when she said she was going somewhere. She’d started eating lunch at her desk years ago, just to avoid that look.
She glanced back into the shop, and saw Imogen straightening the table of samples, her gaze flicking between them. There was a knowing expression on Imogen’s face, and Vanessa felt herself blush.
“Thanks,” she repeated, holding up the coffee mug. “I’ll see you around.”
And then, before Jackson could say anything else, she took off as fast as her high-heeled boots would carry her, back toward the toy store.