we clean, I mean, you just look great. Happy. Healthy.”
“Well.” Clare rubbed an imaginary spot on the counter. “You look good yourself. Sensational, actually.”
“I look like a moron,” Lexi corrected. “High-heeled boots on cobblestone streets? What was I thinking?”
Clare grinned in spite of herself at the thought of Lexi stumbling her way over the brick sidewalks and cobblestones in those boots, flapping her hands for balance.
Her smile encouraged Lexi. “Hey, would you like to…maybe some coffee?”
Clare paused. “Well…I could use some coffee right now.” She stripped off her rubber gloves.
“Oh!” Lexi jerked her head, did a kind of full body quiver, and waved both hands. “I don’t have any coffee! I don’t have any cups, either. I mean, I just got here yesterday and the movers are coming today and I haven’t been to the grocery store…”
Clare tried to work up some resentment because wasn’t it clever how Lexi had manipulated things so that Clare had to be the one to serve Lexi, but after all, the Lexi she’d known, the old Lexi, was always going off half-assed like this.
Plus, as she moved around the kitchen, Clare was secretly pleased at this opportunity to show off her shop.
She
might look like the bottom of a bedroom slipper, but her shop and its upstairs quarters looked great. The kitchen, except for the island she’d pulled out from the wall, was tidy and spotless. She glided from cupboard to counter, grinding the beans, organizing the coffeemaker, filling the creamer with fresh cream, setting everything on a vintage Coca-Cola tray.
She carried everything through the door into the larger packaging room. Near the windows overlooking the street she’d made a kind of employees’ lounge, with a small sofa, two overstuffed chairs, and a coffee table piled with the latest magazines—
People
and
US
as well as
Gourmet, Bon Appetit,
and
Chocolatier.
Lexi scanned the work table, piled high with glossy dark green boxes waiting to be folded. “I like your design. Very clever.”
Clare didn’t mind admitting, “I think so, too.”
As a chocolatier with the last name of Hart, she couldn’t
not
name the shop Sweet Hart’s. It had been tempting to make her logo and decorations a chocolate heart, but Clare had chosen to go in another, less obvious and, she hoped, more distinctive direction. So all her boxes were dark woodsy green, with a hart’s head on them, and hanging from an antler by a gold cord was one glossy dark chocolate truffle. The mocha-cream-colored hart was very endearing, his antlers slightly lighter brown, his dark eyes huge, his nose velvety soft. The tip of his tongue touched the corner of his mouth, his expression delighted, as if he’d just tasted something delicious. On Christmas, Clare had the boxes made with a round gold ornament hanging from his antler. On Valentine’s Day, of course, a heart. For special orders, and she was getting more and more of these each year, she’d had the box maker emboss the antler with a small wrapped birthday present, or a gold ring, or a seashell.
Lexi traced the hart’s antlers with the tip of her finger. “This place is really cool, Clare.”
“Thanks.” Clare set the tray on the coffee table and curled up in a chair. She’d put a few handmade chocolates on a plate. “Try one.”
Lexi sank into the other chair, crossing her endless legs and swinging them to the side so she could reach the truffle. She took a bite. “Wow.”
Clare smiled.
“This is amazing.”
“Thanks.”
“You make these yourself?”
“I do. Well, in the summer I have help making them, but I’ve created every recipe. You’re eating the Nantucket Knock-Out Truffle.”
Lexi laughed. “Cool.”
“I’ve had the shop for five years. I love it.”
“Mmm, I can see why.” She licked a bit of chocolate off her lip and when she grinned at Clare, she looked just like she had when they were both sixteen.
“So,” Clare asked bluntly,
“Well.” Clare rubbed an imaginary spot on the counter. “You look good yourself. Sensational, actually.”
“I look like a moron,” Lexi corrected. “High-heeled boots on cobblestone streets? What was I thinking?”
Clare grinned in spite of herself at the thought of Lexi stumbling her way over the brick sidewalks and cobblestones in those boots, flapping her hands for balance.
Her smile encouraged Lexi. “Hey, would you like to…maybe some coffee?”
Clare paused. “Well…I could use some coffee right now.” She stripped off her rubber gloves.
“Oh!” Lexi jerked her head, did a kind of full body quiver, and waved both hands. “I don’t have any coffee! I don’t have any cups, either. I mean, I just got here yesterday and the movers are coming today and I haven’t been to the grocery store…”
Clare tried to work up some resentment because wasn’t it clever how Lexi had manipulated things so that Clare had to be the one to serve Lexi, but after all, the Lexi she’d known, the old Lexi, was always going off half-assed like this.
Plus, as she moved around the kitchen, Clare was secretly pleased at this opportunity to show off her shop.
She
might look like the bottom of a bedroom slipper, but her shop and its upstairs quarters looked great. The kitchen, except for the island she’d pulled out from the wall, was tidy and spotless. She glided from cupboard to counter, grinding the beans, organizing the coffeemaker, filling the creamer with fresh cream, setting everything on a vintage Coca-Cola tray.
She carried everything through the door into the larger packaging room. Near the windows overlooking the street she’d made a kind of employees’ lounge, with a small sofa, two overstuffed chairs, and a coffee table piled with the latest magazines—
People
and
US
as well as
Gourmet, Bon Appetit,
and
Chocolatier.
Lexi scanned the work table, piled high with glossy dark green boxes waiting to be folded. “I like your design. Very clever.”
Clare didn’t mind admitting, “I think so, too.”
As a chocolatier with the last name of Hart, she couldn’t
not
name the shop Sweet Hart’s. It had been tempting to make her logo and decorations a chocolate heart, but Clare had chosen to go in another, less obvious and, she hoped, more distinctive direction. So all her boxes were dark woodsy green, with a hart’s head on them, and hanging from an antler by a gold cord was one glossy dark chocolate truffle. The mocha-cream-colored hart was very endearing, his antlers slightly lighter brown, his dark eyes huge, his nose velvety soft. The tip of his tongue touched the corner of his mouth, his expression delighted, as if he’d just tasted something delicious. On Christmas, Clare had the boxes made with a round gold ornament hanging from his antler. On Valentine’s Day, of course, a heart. For special orders, and she was getting more and more of these each year, she’d had the box maker emboss the antler with a small wrapped birthday present, or a gold ring, or a seashell.
Lexi traced the hart’s antlers with the tip of her finger. “This place is really cool, Clare.”
“Thanks.” Clare set the tray on the coffee table and curled up in a chair. She’d put a few handmade chocolates on a plate. “Try one.”
Lexi sank into the other chair, crossing her endless legs and swinging them to the side so she could reach the truffle. She took a bite. “Wow.”
Clare smiled.
“This is amazing.”
“Thanks.”
“You make these yourself?”
“I do. Well, in the summer I have help making them, but I’ve created every recipe. You’re eating the Nantucket Knock-Out Truffle.”
Lexi laughed. “Cool.”
“I’ve had the shop for five years. I love it.”
“Mmm, I can see why.” She licked a bit of chocolate off her lip and when she grinned at Clare, she looked just like she had when they were both sixteen.
“So,” Clare asked bluntly,
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