Eli cleared his throat. “You’re something else, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told. Is that a yes?”
Eli looked around the forgotten shop. “It’s a maybe. I’d have to talk to my grandfather and figure out what we’d charge for rent, but... yeah, we can discuss the… possibility.”
“Perfect. I’d love to show it to Luke, if you could go get him? To see if he thinks Tapped Amber could have a display here, too.”
“No,” he said, turning and stalking out of the room without another word.
Fuck, why were they both so stubborn? Or maybe I was just terrible at this.
Chapter 5
Luke
Mioko and I spentour Saturday in the kitchen, packaging orders while my moms frantically finished candies for the tourists in town for a festive weekend of fun. Between Mioko’s help and Lori’s secret spreadsheets, we were almost caught up. But I could only taste the bitterness of Thursday’s odd encounter with Eli.
He seemed angrier every time I saw him, but that was the thing. I still got to see him. That counted for something, but I needed to break through, somehow.
Shaking my head, I focused on the assembly line of holiday gift boxes in front of me, trying to lose myself in the mindless rhythm of fold, tuck, seal, repeat.
“Why the sad face?” Mioko asked, not looking up from tying a perfect burgundy bow on a package of maple cream caramels.
“It’s nothing.”
Mioko raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Very convincing.”
I sighed, folding another box. “Fine. I just… Eli accused me of abandoning him, but he abandoned me. Rejected me.” I pressed a crease. “Six years, and he’s still acting like I committed an unforgivable sin by taking a job in the city.”
“There has to be more than just the job.” Her voice was light and curious, but I still felt my defenses rise.
“I went to Boston College because that was where I got a scholarship. I came back every summer, every break. It’s not like I joined a cult.” I winced as soon as the words left my mouth. “Sorry. Bad choice of words.”
Mioko laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “It’s fine. I grew up in a cult. It’s just a fact, like saying you grew up in a candy factory.”
“Maple sugar confectionery,” I corrected, the way my moms did, and she elbowed me and giggled.
“How did Eli reject you?”
“He knew I wanted a job in Boston. I told him I needed to experience city life for a while and escape this tiny town.”
“People can know something’s coming and still not be prepared for how it feels,” Mioko said, her fingers dancing over the ribbon. “Why didn’t you visit each other?”
“We had a fight. I don’t remember the specifics.”
That wasn’t true. I could pinpoint the end of our friendship to a single awful night I’d spent six years trying to forget. But I wasn’t about to spill that particular story to Mioko, no matter how easy she was to talk to.
“Whatever you’re pretending not to remember, you should tell him how it made you feel,” she said. “But honestly, I think it’s beautiful that after six years, you two still care enough to be angry. Not everyone gets to experience a connection where feelings stay that strong across time and distance.”
“I’m not pretending,” I tried to sound grumpy, but her words were sinking in, making me feel things I hadn’t felt for a long time. I huffed out a breath, then lowered my voice. “I just don’t want to talk about it.”
She didn’t argue. Instead, she switched our task, handing me a stack of red boxes and nudging a bag of cinnamon-scented pinecones toward me. “One of these in each box? They’re for the Maple Winter Wonderland sets. I’ll add the caramels.”
I nodded, grateful for the change in subject. The pinecones filled the air with their spicy scent as I nestled them among the tissue paper. “How’d you get so good at this? The perfect bows and beautiful packages, I mean.”
“Edie taught me.” She smiled, a soft, fond expression that made my chest twist. “Presentation is half the magic. A beautiful package means the treat inside tastes twice as sweet.”
“That sounds like Mom,” I said. “But she also thinks Mercury retrograde affects chocolate tempering, so take her wisdom with a grain of salt.”
