“So it actually looks like it’s going to happen?” Molly lay on her side with her head propped up in her hand looking down at Jordan, who watched the trees from flat on her back.

“It does. George has set up a few meetings with some potential investors, but according to him, they’re really excited and already on board. A friend of his owns a newswire agency in San Diego, but has shown interest in doing something more creative with her millions. George swears by her and is going to set up a meeting when she’s in Chicago next month. I also have a few grant proposals I need to start working on. There’s lots of funding for this sort of thing out there.”

“I can’t wait to see your first film. You’re going to make documentaries, Jordan. Can you believe it? Important ones too. I know it.” She traced a circle in the palm of Jordan’s hand.

“I don’t know why it took me this long to understand that this is what I should be doing, driving my own projects. I do my best work when there’s passion involved.” Molly raised an eyebrow, causing both of them to smile at the implication.

“Today was fun,” Molly said, sobering. “It makes me want to have more days like this.”

The comment took Jordan by surprise, and she realized something. Molly’s face was far more relaxed, more open than she’d probably ever seen it. “Me too.” And because she simply had to, she reached out and swept the stray hair from Molly’s forehead. It was a great day. She couldn’t agree more.

Molly pushed herself into a seated position and looked back at Jordan, studying her almost as if she were trying to make her mind up about something. And then, she was all too serious. “Go on a date with me,” she said quietly.

Jordan sat up, unsure of what it was Molly was saying. “As in?”

“For real this time. I’ll be honest, Jordan, I don’t know that it can work between us, and we should both be prepared for that. What your parents will think terrifies me, but we have to level with ourselves about this, about us, and that means—”

Jordan felt a surge of something swell within her and she kissed Molly. She wanted to listen to her list all the reasons they deserved a real shot, because it was like music to her ears, but she couldn’t resist another minute. It was that kind of have-to.

When they came up for air, Molly stared back at her breathless. “That wasn’t an answer.”

“Oh right, that.” Jordan looked skyward in mock contemplation, which made Molly poke her in the ribs. “Ow, not if you’re going to do that a bunch. I can’t date you then.”

“No promises.”

Jordan sighed and allowed herself to drown in Molly’s eyes for a moment. “It seems I’m willing to risk it.”

They stared at each other as the weight of what they’d just decided settled over them. Jordan would be lying if she said she wasn’t worried. Molly was a lot to lose if things didn’t work out, and there was lots of opportunity for things not to work out. And the look on Molly’s face told her she was just as scared. “One day at a time, okay?” Molly said. “When do you go back to Chicago?”

“Four days.”

She whistled low. “Way to make this dramatic.”

“It’s my job to be dramatic. I want to live the movie, remember? Don’t you want to see what happens next?”

“I can hardly wait to see how this thing ends.”

“Good. Chicago’s only a little more than two hours away, and I like driving. Sometimes I sing really loud. It’s awesome.”

Molly laughed and brought her forehead to Jordan’s, cradling her cheek. “Is this completely crazy?”

“Yeah. But sometimes crazy pays off big, and I’m betting on us.”

*

“So a partnership?” Molly asked. She looked across the table at Grant Tranton while struggling to understand his proposal. It was after three on Thursday, and she’d closed the bakeshop early for the meeting and gave her employees the afternoon off. There was a plate of Knock Yourself Out Blueberry muffins sitting between them on the table, two of which Grant had already wolfed down.

“Exactly. I’ll, of course, hold controlling interest of the venture, as it’s my capital that will get the production up and running. I’ll also be the one handling the business side of things. In return, you’ll retain forty percent ownership of MollyDollys, which also means you’ll receive forty percent of any and all profits. He slid a sheet of paper across the table to Molly. “This is what I’m thinking we can do in sales next year. That bottom line would be your take.”

Molly lifted the sheet and did her damndest to mask her surprise at the figure.

He held up a hand. “It’s a projection, but my projections are right more often than not.”

“Okay.” She swallowed and looked again at the really nice number. She wanted to frame that number. Maybe take it out for dinner sometime. “Can you walk me through how all of this would work?”

“Essentially, we go into business together. Sign a few documents. You bring the truffles. I bring the distribution channels, the know-how, and my connections with several well-known retail outlets. Together, we make lots of beautiful money together. Sound good?”

She shook her head slowly. “But to produce that many truffles, I’d be working night and day. I don’t think—”

He laughed out loud, and there was something about it that made her feel foolish, like she knew so very little that he thought it was cute. “Understand we’d have to commercialize the process a bit. Produce the truffles on a grander scale at a facility in Chicago. We’d hire a group of workers. Correction, I’d hire them.”

“Mass production? The recipe isn’t designed to work that way.”

“Not to worry. They’ll still be handmade, just as they are now. Just in larger volume. We’ll actually be cutting costs in the end. By a lot.”

Molly tried to take it all in. “And what would be my role in all this?”

“That’s the best part. You’ve already done it. You’ve created the recipe. Added a cute little name and a story. I might need you for PR now and then and to sign off on an occasional business decision. But essentially, you get to sit back and reap the rewards.”

Reap the rewards. That could be nice. She could definitely get behind reaping. It was time for a little reaping in her life. She thought of the past due notices that were piling up, the letters from the bank. “How long?” she asked. “Before we actually see money coming in?”

“Well, it’ll take time to get deals in place. We’d have to find a facility and get it up and running. Plus, there’s packaging to think about, Web design. I would love to have MollyDollys out to the world in six months.”

Six months.

The back mortgage payments wouldn’t wait six months. Felix at the bank had already granted her extension after extension. He couldn’t shield her from foreclosure much longer. She asked the question she didn’t want to have to ask. “Is there a possibility of a cash advance?”

He tilted his head and frowned, grappling to understand. He looked around. “Is this place in trouble? Level with me. If we’re going to work together, I need you to be honest.”

She nodded. “I’m a bit behind.”

He sighed and she somehow felt as if she’d let him down. “How much do you need to get by?”

It was a number she hadn’t divulged to anyone, but it was time to swallow her pride. Do or die time. “Seventy-five thousand.”

He whistled low but didn’t say anything. He sat there looking pensive as the tension in the room grew exponentially. This was her last shot. Whatever came out of this man’s mouth next would decide the fate of the shop, her family’s legacy, and her hopes for the future all tied into one. It sounded dramatic but it was all very true. It was one of the most terrifying moments in her life.

Finally, he gave her a long look. “Understand that this money will go against your share of the profits until it’s repaid in full. It would be an advance, not any kind of signing bonus.”

“I understand completely.”

Another never-ending pause. “We have a deal. I’ll put the advance in the paperwork,” he said and extended his hand. They were the most glorious words in the history of words.

“We do?” She felt the most amazing smile break across her face as she stood. Relief flooded her senses, and her body felt so much lighter, like she could easily float away. She shook his hand, but it wasn’t enough. She full on hugged the guy and jumped up and down a few times afterward.

He laughed at her antics and eyed her strangely at the same time. “I’ll leave this paperwork with you and be in touch soon regarding the advance.” She was still rocking out to the imaginary victory music when he left.

Things were coming together. They were going to be all right. She looked at the photo of her parents on the wall and felt such gratitude for what they’d built for her. And she hadn’t let them down. She hadn’t. And with MollyDollys to put Flour Child on the map, business would return to how it had been in the pre-Starbucks era.

When her dancing mellowed to a controlled hopping, she no longer knew what to do with herself. Except that she did. She fumbled for her phone. There was one person she had to share this with.

*

Flour Child was seemingly deserted when Molly came into work that next day, but with the new plan in place, she tried not to let that bother her. She’d given herself the late morning shift so she could enjoy a quiet, celebratory morning at home after the events of the day before. Deserted, of course with the exception of Mr. Jeffries, who was nursing his coffee a bit longer than usual and watching the world go by from his seat by the window. She greeted him, which earned her a customary scowl in return.

She made her way to the back of the shop to put on her apron and get to work. She’d be off by six, and that left plenty of time for evening plans, about which she had a lot of ideas.