Chapter 17
17
Despite the pressure of working to an extremely tight deadline for the huge order for chocolate truffles, the first couple of days flew past for Libby. She was revelling in pure and utter enjoyment.
Working on making chocolate was a dream come true and she realised just how long she had been unhappy in her old job.
She felt especially proud when she passed the inspection from the local council with flying covers and was given the all clear to continue making chocolate as a business.
Best of all was the knowledge that she had control over the whole process, from bean to truffle.
The old oven, despite being a little tricky to figure out at first, turned out to be perfect for roasting the cocoa beans so that the nibs at their heart could be isolated. They were so rich in cocoa solids and cocoa butter that she had to stop herself from eating too many after they had been roasted.
Her expensive purchase of the melanger had also been a success as it easily ground out much larger amounts of the nibs than she had ever been able to do before. It sped up the long process, although there was still so much to do.
But the piece de resistance was the marble work surface on the central island of the kitchen. Once the nibs had been melted into liquid cocoa in a saucepan, she was able to pour the melted chocolate onto the cool marble and begin to work it back and forth until it started to thicken.
She would lose all track of time at that point, relishing the process that was the most traditional and had been around for so long. It was an amazing feeling to keep the older skills and artistry alive.
In fact, she enjoyed it so much that late one afternoon, she didn’t even hear Ethan come in. It wasn’t until he clicked on the overhead lights that she realised how dark it had become as the nights began to draw in.
‘You don’t use a bowl?’ he asked, indicating the spread of chocolate all across the marble work surface.
She shook her head and carried on working her spatula back and forth, taking the melted chocolate with it. ‘Not for tempering,’ she told him. ‘I need to cool it down before heating it back up again.’
‘Why?’ he asked, looking completely non-plussed.
‘Because it will make it into the silky wonder that my chocolate is,’ she replied. She took a nearby piece of greaseproof paper and scraped a small amount of chocolate onto it. ‘See how shiny it is? That’s what tempering does.’
‘And I thought I was the only engineer around here,’ he told her.
‘What are you doing back so early anyway?’ she asked.
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. ‘It’s six o’clock, Libs,’ he told her.
She looked at him aghast. ‘Six o’clock? Already?’ She couldn’t believe it. She glanced to the window and could see the inky black dark of the evening outside. ‘I had no idea,’ she said, looking back down to the chocolate she had been working.
To her dismay, it had bloomed. She groaned out loud.
‘What’s the matter?’ he asked.
She sighed heavily. ‘The chocolate has bloomed. See those white bits? I’ll have to do it all over again.’
‘In the morning, though?’ he said. ‘You look done in. You should go home and get some rest.’
Her eyes strayed to the large amount of flat-pack boxes not yet made up and empty of truffles. Time was marching on and she was so behind. Another day had passed and she didn’t feel as if she had progressed as much as she had hoped.
‘I should really carry on,’ she said out loud, to herself more than Ethan. She then felt a bit sheepish. ‘Sorry. I know it’s your home and I’m taking over.’
‘You know I don’t care about that,’ he told her, with a shrug. ‘But I care about you looking whiter than that marble surface in front of you. Listen, have you thought about asking your friends for help?’
She immediately shook her head. ‘They’re all so busy. Besides, I’ll be fine,’ she said.
Ethan rolled his eyes. ‘No surprise there,’ he muttered.
It was one of her many failings, she knew. She never liked to show anyone that she wasn’t in control. Besides, nobody else could make chocolate like she could.
The fact that Ethan also knew of the protective wall that she had built around herself for so many years reminded her of how close they had once been.
‘What about your dad? Where does he think you are each day?’
‘He thinks I’m helping out Harriet at the lavender spa,’ she told him, avoiding eye contact. ‘But I guess I’d better head home as it’s getting late.’
‘And because you look tired.’
She automatically shook her head. ‘I’m fine,’ she said quickly. ‘Anyway, it’s only five thousand truffles!’ She felt the dull pit of anxiety as she said the huge number out loud.
‘Listen,’ he told her, coming around to stand next to her. ‘I know you well enough to tell when you need to stop and I’m telling you right now that it’s time. Stop.’
‘You can’t tell me what to do,’ she said, fighting the fatigue which suddenly ran through every bone in her body.
‘Turns out, yeah, I can,’ he said softly.
To her surprise, he reached out and stroked her face. For a second, she was lost in his gaze, those blue eyes that she knew so well. Did he still care for her? Did he feel that they had unresolved business like she did? Like she had always done?
As he pulled his fingers away, she saw that they were covered in chocolate. She must have smeared her cheek at some point when she was working.
‘Occupational hazard,’ she muttered.
He smiled. ‘Yeah, but what a way to go,’ he told her.
They stared at each other for a moment more before she came to her senses. This was Ethan. Ethan who had walked out on her at the prom. Ethan who had married her and never talked about it. Ethan who had broken her heart just when she had needed him the most.
‘Well, perhaps you’re right,’ she said. ‘I should head home.’
‘When have I ever been wrong?’ he replied, with a smug smile.
‘I lost count when it hit double figures,’ she told him, before glancing around the chaotic kitchen. ‘I’ll tidy up before I go,’ she said, aware that it was his home she was messing up.
‘No need,’ he told her. ‘I’m going to pick up one of Ryan’s pizzas so that’ll be dinner sorted tonight.’
‘Okay. Well, thanks.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight, Libby.’
She grabbed her coat and headed out of the front door, but the fresh air did nothing to clear her muddled thoughts. She was trying so hard to hold Ethan at arm’s length, to not get too close to him even though they’d been thrown together like this. But that was hard when he would stand so close to her that her pulse would thump and flutter in her throat.
It was nothing. She was just stressed, that was all.
And tired too, she had to admit.
But as Libby lay in bed that night, she tossed and turned, her mind still racing. Suddenly, she grabbed her phone and typed some numbers into the calculator app.
She had been making chocolate truffles for four days now. Okay, three, as she had lost one to cleaning Ethan’s kitchen. And so far she had made the sum total of three hundred. By her calculations, she had to seriously up her game. There were twenty-two days left before her deadline. That meant she ought to be making over two hundred truffles a day!
Her eyes clicked wide open as she stared at her phone screen. Two hundred truffles a day! And even making that many meant that she would have to work seven days a week.
She couldn’t do it, was her first thought.
But she had to, was her second thought.
The money was seriously good, and without a job, she and her dad needed the income. She just had to get faster, that was all.
Less enjoyment, more work, she told herself.
But it did nothing to stem the rising panic deep inside of her.