Lena wasn’t sure if she’d wish her position on anyone, especially Devin. She had been on the same career trajectory for years, following the same patterns. Finish a job, and then find a new one, always in the same industry. She’d been focused on growth, aiming for bigger and more varied health care systems, but she hadn’t ever considered a lateral move. Until now.

  “Niche, or rut?” She sighed. “I couldn’t honestly say if I like the medical side of my work. The coding, definitely, but I could do almost anything with that. But I had contacts through my parents in the health care industry, and it was a way to appease them when I didn’t choose medicine as my career.”

  She was a freelancer, though. She could go in any direction she wanted, follow any intriguing opportunity that arose, without needing to give up on developing EHRs if a good gig came along.

  “I blame Aunt Cheryl,” she said. “It never even occurred to me to widen my net when I was looking for jobs. I hate the in-between times, but I still wait until another health care company wants to hire me, rather than being open to finding something new. This damned restaurant has made me realize that I can do other things. I know for certain I don’t want to be a chef, but I could be one. Or I could design databases for food supply companies, or chocolate shops, or apron manufacturers. That’s what she wanted me to learn here, isn’t it? And I’m not putting a dollar in that stein because I’m really angry that she was right.”

  She shook her head. “You say you’re jealous that I found my niche, but now I’m not sure I want to stay in it. And you have a niche that you love, and that seems to be creatively fulfilling for you, but your opportunities for working in it are stifling for you.”

  Devin laughed and bumped Lena with her shoulder. “We’re both messy right now,” she said, meeting Lena’s gaze. They were only inches apart.

  Lena nodded, leaning slightly closer. “Chaos personified, times two.”

  Devin lightly brushed her nose against Lena’s, a mere hint of contact. “Definitely not in any position to start a relationship.”

  “No way,” Lena agreed. “That would be irresponsible and—”

  And something else, but Devin closed the distance between them and kissed her, and Lena forgot what she had been about to say. She forgot the restaurant and her aunt and her family, and all that existed were Devin’s lips pressed against hers. And when Devin teasingly bit her lower lip before sliding her tongue against Lena’s, she forgot her name and birthdate, too. Nothing existed but the two of them. Devin’s hand threading through her hair. The feel of Devin’s cheek under her palm, and then her shoulder, and then her hip as Lena slid her hand down Devin’s side and then pulled her closer on the edge of the van. Nothing but the sweet taste of her and the smell of chocolate and—

  And a damned phone that wouldn’t stop beeping.

  They broke apart, and Devin swore when she checked her phone screen. “It’s Kyle. The caterer. I asked him to let me know when they were about to cut the cake.”

  “We’re back on duty?” Lena asked. Devin sighed and nodded. “Good thing, too,” Lena said sarcastically, running a hand through Devin’s mussed hair to tidy it. “We might have been about to do something irresponsible and…” She snapped her fingers. “And foolish. That’s what I was about to say when you kissed all the words out of my brain.”

  “Rescued just in time,” Devin agreed as they picked up trays full of chocolates that would replenish the dessert table. “Or, I suppose, about five minutes too late.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Devin felt like she had about ten minutes to relax after her wedding responsibilities were over before she was caught up in the preparations for the first weekend of the holiday preseason. For the next couple of weeks, until Thanksgiving, there would be heavier crowds from Friday through Sunday, and even when their cases and pantry shelves were full of truffles and pralines, they often sold out and closed the shop by late afternoon. During the high season, they’d usually close even earlier. There were only so many chocolates that they could make and store in the shop.

  The wedding had been…well, Devin was having trouble coming up with words to describe it. The kiss had been exhilarating. One touch of Lena’s tongue had utterly destroyed Devin’s belief that there was something wrong with her because she never felt much emotional response to the women she dated. Her body and soul had apparently been waiting for Lena’s arrival, saving up all the warmth and connection and desire she thought had been lacking in her, and releasing the entirety at once. And that was just one relatively short and tame kiss in a parking lot. What would dating her be like? Having sex? Spending days and nights in her company? Devin wasn’t sure she could handle it and still function in her everyday life, but a rogue part of her kept thinking What the hell—let’s give it a go.

  Aside from the kiss, the night had been more fun than Devin ever would have expected. They had refilled platter after platter of chocolates, making bets about which ones would disappear the quickest, and having brief but vigorous snowball fights every time they went back to the van for more trays. Devin won them all, of course. Portland’s handful of inches of annual snowfall hadn’t given Lena the experience needed to beat a Leavenworth native, and she made the rookie mistake of spending far too long carefully forming her snowballs into perfect rounds, leaving her back open for ambush.

  All in all, Devin had to admit it had been a Winter Wonderland of a night. The chocolates had vanished rapidly, especially at the end of the evening when Devin put out a bunch of tiny boxes so the guests could each take a couple of pieces home with them. The bride and groom had been thrilled with the entire event, and especially her dad’s special cake, and even though the bridesmaids had looked a bit sickly in lime green, there had been nothing but smiles all around.

  And then it was over. By the time they were packing up the last of the empty trays, the snow was falling in wet, heavy flakes. They were both damp and shivering when they got back to the shop, and Devin’s dad had shooed them both off to get dry and warm while he unloaded the van. There hadn’t been time for more than a hug, a thank you, and a last lingering glance before she and Lena separated for the night.

  Although she had been tempted to sneak over to the restaurant and find Lena, Devin knew it was probably for the best that they didn’t even have a chance to revisit the kiss. Devin had hours of work ahead of her before she could go to sleep, and she’d be up only a few hours later to get back to her chocolate making. And Lena had her first dinner service coming up. Plus, they were both facing change and decisions and choices. For Devin, the change was full of sadness and difficult emotions. But Lena, too, was letting go of some things. Old, limiting beliefs, her ties to her family’s expectations. Neither one of them was in a good place for starting a relationship.

  Or did that even matter? Couldn’t she struggle with her career choices and regrets in Portland? Or couldn’t Lena explore other ways to use her coding expertise in Seattle? Did they really need to wait until life was perfectly wrapped up with a neat bow before they explored what they could mean to each other? Devin wasn’t sure, but they didn’t need to make a choice right now. They could wait until the end of the season, unless Lena decided to leave earlier than that.

  Devin stood at the counter behind the display cases and measured out the ingredients for the shop’s staple salted caramel truffles without needing to pay much attention to what she was doing. She had already made dozens of her new chestnut and cranberry truffle stockings, but most of the items they stocked this weekend would be standard customer favorites, as they welcomed the tourists back to Leavenworth for the holidays. For now, the store was closed, and the snow fell silently and steadily outside the window.

  Her dad came through from the kitchen with a slender tray full of lemon cream truffles, and he slid it into place in one of the cases. He set a slightly misshapen one next to her on the counter.

  She laughed and popped it in her mouth, where it melted immediately into a pool of tart creaminess. “I know you do that on purpose,” she said. “You always make one a little too lumpy since you know they’re one of my favorites.”

  “Never,” he said, pretending to be shocked by her assertion. “That one just fell on the floor and got slightly squished.”

  He leaned against the counter and watched her for a moment. “I forgot to mention, Lena’s aunt came by while you were at the wedding. She’s invited us to the second seating tomorrow night as a surprise for Lena, to show our support.” He looked at his watch. “I guess it’s tonight, not tomorrow.”

  Devin wasn’t sure if their presence would be a good surprise or a stressful one for Lena, but her dad looked like he wanted to go, so she agreed to it. Besides, by the end of the day, she and her dad would both be so exhausted that they wouldn’t want to do more than poke holes in a plastic cover and microwave a frozen meal. A good, home-cooked…well, they would be there to support Lena, no matter how the food tasted.

  She sighed. The shop always felt safe and comforting on these late nights, when it was just the two of them working together. She wouldn’t have a better chance to really talk to him than this.

  “Dad, if you really don’t want to sell the shop, we don’t have to,” she started, hesitantly. “I know you’ve agreed to this for me, not necessarily because it’s what you want. You’ve always done that. You’ve taken care of me, and you’ve supported me when I wanted to make my own way, but I don’t want to be the reason you give up the store. I can come back more often, or just move back and work here. It’s not like I have a great job waiting for me in Seattle, and I—”

  He held up a hand to stop her. “It’s all right, Devin. I’ll admit, I was thinking of you at first. This shop is the reason why you don’t have a fulfilling job in Seattle. I wanted to give you the opportunity to fully commit to being there, to finding a career, and hopefully a woman, that you truly love, without feeling like you’re living two part-time lives.”

  He shrugged, spinning a metal whisk on the counter. “But, if I’m being honest, it hasn’t been the same here with your mom gone. At first it was because I was sad, with so many reminders of her everywhere. But for the past couple of years…well, I think I’ve come to understand how you felt before you moved. Sometimes I feel trapped. Stuck. It’s hard to let the store go, but I’m ready to try something new. Go somewhere else.”

  He put his hand on her shoulder. “But not Seattle. That’s your dream, and I’m not ready to settle there and make candy for the neighbors in my retirement community. I’ll be there to visit you, though.”

  “What if I don’t want to sell the shop?” she asked, her voice sounding small when her throat was tight with tears.

  He smiled fondly at her. “You do. You wouldn’t be any happier living here than you were when you were young. You moved away, but you never really let go, and it’ s been holding you back. Some of that is my fault, but when you let go, you’ll finally see a way forward.” He shrugged. “Or a way to Portland, which is probably the same thing.”

  She laughed and threw a piece of chocolate at him. He caught it and tossed it in his mouth before giving her a tight hug and heading back to the kitchen, leaving her with her tears and the knowledge that he was right.

  Devin wasn’t sure what to expect when they arrived at Haus Bavaria for the second dinner seating. An angry riot? A shell of a burned-down restaurant? At first glance, the place looked intact and calm. A few stragglers from the earlier seating were leaving as they came in, and they seemed normal. At least they weren’t clutching their stomachs and calling for ambulances.

  Devin smiled. That must mean that Lena had managed the entire service just fine. She was proud of her for taking on this challenge and impressed by how well she was handling it.

  Cheryl hurried over as soon as they walked in the door. She looked much less composed and nonchalant than usual, with her apron askew and her hands full of dirty wineglasses. Devin saw the waitstaff rushing around the dining room, tossing dishes into plastic tubs and ferrying them back to the kitchen. She wondered if they had bussed tables as diners left, or if they had left them all until the room was emptied. She suspected the latter.

  “Thank goodness you’re here,” she said to them, her words pouring out in a rush. “Devin, can you please go in the kitchen and give Lena a pep talk? I have to get the bar cleaned and ready for the next service, and get people seated as soon as the tables are clean. I had no idea how hard it would be to help on the floor and handle all the alcohol. No wonder the other restaurants didn’t want to hire underage waitstaff.”

  “I’ll talk to her, don’t worry,” Devin assured her. “Dad, do you mind sitting without me for a few minutes?”

  He reached for the glasses Cheryl was holding. “Actually, I might take a turn as bartender, if you don’t mind. At least to help get the first drink orders out. I always thought the job looked like fun.”

  “It’s not fun in the least,” Cheryl said. “But thank you. You’re wonderful, both of you, and your desserts were a hit, Devin. If you two can manage Lena and the bar, I can help get these tables set.”

  Devin’s dad grinned. “This will be exciting,” he said.

  “Just don’t try juggling the bottles,” Devin warned him as he walked away. He chatted with the waitstaff as he passed them, and she wondered if he was already planning his new career.

  She shook her head and went into the kitchen, carefully avoiding a server with a tub full of clean dishes who was coming out on the wrong side of the door. Lena and her assistants were huddled together on one side of the island, either making a game plan for the next service or blockading themselves away from the customers. They were dressed like the waitstaff, in matching tan canvas aprons with blue and red Bavarian-inspired flowers embroidered around the edges, and Tyrolean hats. She was sure the hats had been Lena’s idea. Most likely, everyone else wanted to burn them.

  Lena smiled with unfiltered relief when she looked up and saw Devin. “You’re here,” she said, coming around the island to give Devin a strangling sort of hug. “How did you know I needed you?”

  “I didn’t,” Devin wheezed, when she was released. “Your aunt invited me and Dad to dinner to surprise you, and now he’s the new bartender, and I was sent in here to talk you down off the top of the fridge.”

  “Good luck with that,” Lena said with a groan that was echoed by Kirby and Layla.

  “What happened at the first seating?” she asked. She didn’t see any signs of burned food or any other obvious disaster. Actually, she didn’t see signs of much meal prep going on, which didn’t bode well for the second seating.

  “Do you want the dramatic version, or the more realistic one?”

  “Dramatic, please,” said Devin. “Get it out of your system.”

  Lena took a deep breath. “It was a total failure. I ruined the reputation of the restaurant, and no one will ever come here again. I told her I wasn’t qualified to do this, and now we’ll have to close, and all these kids will be out of jobs, and it’s my fault. And I’m sure most of the diners will come down with food poisoning, but we won’t know about that until tomorrow or the next day.”

  “Well, you weren’t kidding about it being dramatic. So, what really happened?”

  Lena slumped against the counter, as if worn out from her cathartic story, and Devin came and stood next to her. “The fryer has an automatic shutoff,” Lena said. “I didn’t know, until it had cooled so much while we were still cooking that the last few chicken pieces were just kind of soaking in there like they were in a sauna. We tossed those ones, of course, but a couple others were sent back because they were too greasy. All the waitstaff were working the tables, and we didn’t think to assign anyone to the dishwasher, so we got behind on getting anything clean.”

  “Way behind,” the boy who was currently running trays through the dishwasher clarified unhelpfully.

  “And no one ate the cabbage,” Kirby added. “That recipe has got to go.”

  Lena nodded. “It’s awful. The ratios are all wrong, even if it sits overnight.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad for your first night,” Devin said cautiously, in case there was more to come. “Did you bankrupt yourself with the swear stein?”

  Lena shrugged. “Three dollars. I’m improving in that area, at least.”

  Devin smiled at that. “Did anything go well? Any compliments or plates that came back with everything eaten?”

  “People loved the sauerbraten,” Layla said. “We had a little taste, and it was really good.”

  “It was cooked all the way through,” Kirby said.

  “Yay,” Lena said, waving her hands in a weak celebratory gesture, although Devin saw the smile she was trying to hide. “Your desserts were praised to the heavens, of course,” she said. “Annoyingly so.”

  She bumped Devin with her shoulder and grinned at her, but the smile faded quickly. “And now we have to do it all over again, and I’m not sure I can.”

  Kirby and Layla looked defeated, too, taking their cue from Lena. Devin wanted to step in and get them moving again. Do some organizing and give some directions and fix this for Lena. Judging by her somber mood, Lena would probably welcome the intervention, but Devin fought her natural urge to fix it and instead walked over to a rack of aprons and put one on before washing her hands.

  “Since Dad is probably out there having the time of his life serving beer, I can be an extra pair of hands for a while. What do you need me to do?”

  She looked at Lena, and so did Kirby and Layla. It took a few moments, but Lena sighed and pulled herself together. “Can you help Kirby make another batch of potato salad? We’ll swap that out for the cabbage, and no one is likely to complain about that. Layla, we’re running low on the mushroom gravy, so why don’t you get another pan going. I’ll check the oil temperature and make sure it’s ready to go.”

  Kirby and Layla headed to their stations, but Lena caught Devin’s hand as she was starting to follow Kirby. She pulled her into another hug, less despairing than the earlier one, and just held her for a moment. “Thank you,” she said when she let go and stepped back.