by Krista Lakes
“Nicholas, I didn’t leave because I was upset with you.” Molly smiled gently. She reached her free hand out to touch his shoulder. “I left because I need to work on my case for you not selling the rights to the store.”
“Work on your case?” Nicholas repeated, confused.
“Yeah, you told me that you would give me the same chance that you gave the investors,” she reminded him “They’d get a chance to try to convince you to sell the store. I’d get a chance to show you all the reasons you shouldn’t.”
“Right. I did say that,” Nicholas agreed. “So you’re going to pull something together tonight? To convince me not to sell the store?”
“I'm going to convince you that Christmas Wishes should stay the way it is,” Molly told him. “That Christmas should stay the way it is.”
“I promise to give you a fair chance,” he told her. “Just like I said I would.”
“Good,” Molly said with a firm nod. “But it’d be nice to know a little bit more about the competition. What do these investor guys usually bring with them? Spreadsheets? Powerpoints?”
“Potential expense reports. Broad financial statements. Revenue estimates for the next five years,” Nicholas replied, listing the business terms off on his fingers.
“Oh...” Molly racked her thoughts for something comparable, unable to think of anything she could do to impress that oh-so-logical side of Nicholas’ brain. Panic tickled at the back of her mind that this wasn't going to work.
Then it hit her.
Her eyes then lit up, realizing that she didn’t have to impress Nicholas as a businessman.
In fact, from the very beginning, it was never Molly’s intention to convince Nicholas to save the shop using facts and figures, was it?
No.
It had always been about convincing Nicholas’ heart that Christmas was worth a try.
That Christmas was fun.
That Christmas was worthwhile.
That Christmas was possible.
“I really do have to go now, Nicholas.” Molly beamed up at Nicholas. She went to her tip toes and kissed his cheek, feeling heat rush through her.
“Wait.” Nicholas caught her in his arms, this time resting his hands on her waist. “Promise me you’re not mad.”
“Nicholas Kerstman.” Molly grinned at him as she leaned forward on her toes again. She planted a soft kiss on Nicholas’ lips before placing her heels back on the ground. “I’m not mad at you. I promise. I'm just determined to show you what that store has to offer. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Ms. Molly.” Nicholas hesitated for a moment before he moved his hands away from her waist. Despite the cold, he waited outside until she was out of sight.
* * *
Molly’s knuckles rapped hard against the front door of Sweetness & Light.
Hannah came to answer with a puzzled expression and a smudge of flour on her face. “Molly? Why are you knocking on my door like you’re looking for the last hotel room in Bethlehem?”
“I got your takeaway plate.” Molly pushed her way inside the bakery, setting her purse and the plate down on the counter. “And now, I’m going to need your help.”
“Alright, did you need some advice with Nicholas or—”
“I need you to teach me how to make a Buche de Noel cake. Like. Right now,” Molly explained. She shrugged out of her coat and left it on the counter. “Please?”
“Molly...” Hannah groaned, and slowly joined Molly at the counter. “I’m sorry. There’s just no way. I’m way too swamped with BakeTown stuff. Maybe after Christmas we could try making one together?”
Molly shook her head. “I don’t have until after Christmas. I need to have them ready by tomorrow.” Molly glanced around the bakery, trying to come up with a workable solution. “Okay, what about if you give me your recipe for the cake, and you let me borrow your kitchen, too? Just the parts you aren't using to get ready.”
“That could work...” Hannah murmured, thinking over Molly’s suggestion. “Anything that needed to be cooled is already in the back of my fridges, and everything else I’ll have to make the day of, so it has that perfect, crispy edge to it.”
“So, you’ll help?” Molly asked, her voice full of desperate hope. “Please say you’ll help me. Please, please, please—”
“Yes! I’ll help. Stop pouting,” Hannah told her. With a laugh, she motioned Molly toward the back of her kitchen. “Come back here for a minute and I’ll show you how everything works. And don’t be insulted if I pop in to supervise, too. I kind of need my bakery not to burn down.”
“I’m not going to burn your bakery down,” Molly promised, rolling her eyes. “At least not on purpose.”
* * *
Eggs.
Salt.
Sugar.
Cake flour.
Cornstarch.
Cocoa.
Food coloring.
Light corn syrup.
Unsalted butter.
Brandy.
Water.
Molly looked over the recipe what felt like a billion and a half times, her eyes focusing in on each ingredient, wanting to make sure she had each one memorized like the back of her hand.
Baking did not come naturally to Molly Carmichael. Unlike Hannah, Molly’s fingers weren’t as nimble and her personal ability to gauge oven timing or know just the right thing to add to a recipe were passable at best. It took her much longer than she’d ever expected to even feel comfortable in Hannah’s kitchen, after having to locate various ingredients and sort through the pots and pans, the cups and sheets, the rolling pins and the cases of flour.
When Molly finally began the process of making the cake, she followed Hannah’s recipe as closely as she could, and then she baked and baked through the night. She lost all track of time as she focused on twisting pans, rolling up parchment sheets and checking on the oven again and again.
Her first attempts at producing an edible cake were miserable failures, with the taste either being something dull and sour, or the cake sheet itself being uncooked in its middle. She’d gone through more flour and cocoa than she’d ever thought she would, and mentally took a note to pay Hannah back for all the lost baking material.
However, unlike her disastrous history with the cake sheets, Molly’s first attempt at making frosting was an unexpected, undeniable success, with the sweetness of the ingredients all blending together just right.
It took until past midnight when she finally finished the first one. When she finally finished putting it all together, she marveled at the sugared creation, even jumping up and down when she realized that she’d done it. She’d managed to make this complicated cake all by herself without burning down the bakery.
Once Molly added the last touches of frosting to the cake, she set it near the back of one of Hannah’s large fridges. She chuckled at the sight of how odd her one little cake looked, sitting all by itself in such a big refrigerator.
And that’s when Molly had the spark of another idea.
She wiped the flour from her hands onto the sides of her Christmas sweater and turned Hannah’s ovens all the way back on.
Chapter 25
Nicholas
Nicholas stepped into Sweetness & Light the next morning with Luke following close behind him. They were both dressed in their best suits with pricey wristwatches and leather briefcases emphasizing their professional businessmen look. Today was a day to impress.
“I’ve never been somewhere without a Starbucks...” Luke remarked as he reached the front counter. “Is the coffee here any good, sir?”
“Oh, trust me, it’s good,” Nicholas replied. “Just be sure to tell Hannah that you want the real stuff, not the junk that’s going to rot your teeth.”
“Who’s Hannah—” Luke’s question was interrupted by Hannah stepping out of the kitchen.
And Nicholas would swear that he saw Luke’s eyes nearly fall out of his head as soon as he laid them on Hannah Johnson.
“Hey, Nicholas,” Hannah greeted him. She smiled over at Nicholas before she turned her attention towards Luke. “Hey, Nicholas’ friend! You’re new. What’s your name?”
“L-Luke...” Luke stuttered and stammered over his own name. “Sorry. I’m just not used to this.”
“Not used to people asking for your name at the counter?” Hannah asked as she rested one hand on her hip. “Yeah, I guess that’s not too common in New York, right? People just want other people to take their orders and leave them alone?”
“That’s not what I was talking about,” Luke mumbled. His cheeks were beet red and he no longer looked like a high powered New York businessman. He looked much, much younger.
“We’ll have two Americanos, please, just the way I like them,” Nicholas told her, and then looked around the shop. “And have you seen Ms. Molly around anywhere? I thought maybe she headed to the shop early, but the doors were still locked on the way over.”
“Aww. You’re worried about her, aren’t you?” Hannah turned back towards the coffee machines. “Well, don’t be too worried. She’s here in the kitchen. I think she spent the whole night here, actually.”
“She spent the night?” Nicholas asked surprised. “Why?”
“That’s for me to know and for you to find out,” Hannah replied. Her attention soon shifted to a repetitive beeping sound that was coming from her skirt pocket. She pulled out her phone, and gave Nicholas and Luke a quick wave. “Your drinks will be ready in a few minutes, gentlemen. I just need to take this call.”
Hannah brought her phone to her ear, and as she nodded along to whatever was being said on the other line, she made a beeline for the back of the bakery.
“Hannah’s not the person you like... is she, sir?” Luke’s inquiry seemed shaky, even as his face looked stoic and calm.
“Nope,” Nicholas assured him. “She’s all yours.”
“All mine? That’s not...I...” Luke groaned, before setting his head down on the counter. “Sorry for being so unprofessional, sir. She’s just so beautiful. It threw me off my game.”
“Throwing people off their game... It seems like the women in this town have a knack for that,” Nicholas said, grinning to himself as he thought about Molly Carmichael. “Speaking of which, where is she?”
“Nicholas! Hi!” Molly appeared from the kitchen, her sweater covered in flour. “What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here? What are you doing here?” Nicholas asked, taking in her outfit. She had flour in her hair, on her cheek, and everywhere on the same sweater and jeans she'd been wearing last night. Her face was pale with shadowed eyes. “Did you sleep in a bag of flour?”
“No, I did not sleep in a bag of flour. I didn't sleep at all, actually,” Molly answered. “I was about to head home, though. I think it’d be nice to change out of this outfit. I look like a ghost.”
“I’ll walk you home,” Nicholas told her, already on his feet and heading towards Molly. “Just show me the way.”
“You’re walking me home? That’s so nice,” Molly murmured. She blinked heavily as she beamed up at Nicholas. She then wobbled a bit on her feet, knocking into Nicholas’ suit and transferring half a cup of flour to him. “Sorry! Sorry! I think I’ve been awake way too long. I think it might be the longest I've ever been awake. Even in college. My body’s trying to convince me that the floor is a great place to fall asleep.”
“You’ve been awake this whole time? You’ve been here all night and you haven’t gone to sleep at all?” Nicholas asked, trying to keep his tone neutral, but his concern still slipped through. “We need to get you home. We need to get you to bed.”
Nicholas didn't like the way she struggled to stay upright or the paleness in her face. She looked like she might fall over at any second.
“I know, I know. Do you know where Trent Street is? My apartment’s right around the block.” Molly yawned, her eyelids fluttering to a close where she stood. “My apartment key is in my jacket pocket. You’ll just need to... uh...”
Molly wobbled again, but this time Nicholas caught her, effortlessly scooping her up into his arms.
“No! Nicholas! Your suit!” Molly’s eyes went wide. “Nicholas, if you carry me, you’re going to get flour all over your suit.”
“Don’t care. As long as you’re safe,” Nicholas told her. He smiled down at her before he continued on. “Besides, I have another suit in my luggage. So, no worries. The suit is always replaceable.”
But unlike the suit, you are not replaceable, Molly Carmichael, and I’d like to make sure you stay in one piece.
Nicholas kept his last thoughts to himself before he turned to face Luke, who was still seated at the counter. “Good call on us leaving a few hours early for the meeting at the shop. You can head over there now, and I’ll meet you when I get back. Call me if you need anything, in the meantime.”
“Will do, sir, will do,” Luke replied. He looked his boss up and down, the girl in his arms. “I’ll try not to call you, though. It looks like you have your hands full.”
“Ha. Ha.” Nicholas’ response came out deadpan, before a smile was soon on his face, too. “I’ll see you later, Luke.”
“I’ll see you later, sir.”
* * *
Molly’s apartment looked just like Molly.
Nicholas noted the bright colors on the walls, the shades of lilac complementing the light pink in her windowsills, making the standard white of the windows stand out as something spectacular in its simpleness. Sunshine filtered in everywhere, lighting various plants in mismatched pots.
In addition to the brightly colored walls, Molly had Christmas lights hanging from every corner of her apartment, and although they seemed to be turned off in the daytime, it didn’t take much for Nicholas to imagine their brilliance as they shone on in the night.
He also caught the array of framed photos all lined up on a wide stand in her living room. There were pictures of her growing up, sitting on the porch of what Nicholas assumed was the Carmichaels’ New York home, and pictures of Molly and Hannah as teenagers, hanging out in various parts of town, their mouths filled with braces and their hands formed into candid peace signs.
There was also a whole shelf dedicated to her students. All kinds of mugs, ceramic apples, pictures, cards and various kid-like drawings covered every inch. It was obvious that she was very loved by her students and their parents.
And out of the corner of his eye, Nicholas noticed the stack of teaching-related books, all piled up in a neat corner of Molly’s living room. There were scattered journals and notebooks sticking out between each of the books, and scattered across various tables. Nicholas was amused at Molly’s version of organization. He had a feeling that if he woke her up and asked her to find something specific located in that stack of books, she’d be able to find it within mere seconds.
Nicholas laid Molly down on her apartment’s living room couch, making sure not to wake her. She’d fallen into a deep sleep as soon as they’d gotten onto the sidewalk outside of Hannah’s bakery.
In-between her dreaming, she’d latched onto Nicholas’ neck, making him feel like he was some kind of superhero carrying her out of a burning building with each step through the town’s streets putting her that much closer to safety.
Nicholas laughed at the thought of himself being able to see through things with X-Ray vision or leap over the tallest of buildings. He felt like he could use X-Ray vision as he walked towards Molly’s bedroom, wanting to find a blanket or two to lay over the Head Elf’s sleeping form.
He tried not to stare at her bedroom. It felt like he was sneaking in. It was just as he'd imagined Molly's room would look like, but he still felt strange being in there without her. As much as he wanted to get into her bedroom, he'd wanted her to be there with him.
He smiled, thinking of the backseat of the car last night. He could still feel her smooth skin and gentle warmth. He ached to kiss her again. He ached to have her alone and all to hims
elf.
After the investors, he promised himself. We'll have time then.
When he’d secured a set of pink and purple blankets, he tucked Molly into the couch as if he were tucking her into a bed.
He looked down at his suit, and frowned. The amount of flour on his suit would take hundreds of dollars to rectify, and it was possible that the situation wasn’t salvageable at all, depending on how far down the flour had set into the fabric.
Nicholas then looked back over at Molly, who was peacefully sleeping on her couch, the slightest bit of flour still tangled in her hair. He reached over and smoothed the hair away from her forehead, loving how she felt.
And in that moment, he decided that Molly Carmichael was worth losing a suit, no matter how much it might cost him.
Molly Carmichael was worth so much.
Nicholas gave a tired sigh, and he sat down on the couch beside her for a moment, his head falling back against the couch.
How did he find himself in such an impossible position?
He’d never imagined meeting someone like Molly, not in this kind of town, and not right in the middle of negotiating a sale of his family’s store. And certainly not at Christmas.
This sale was supposed to be simple and smooth, nothing that required too much thought or exertion. At one point, Nicholas even considered that this would be the closest he’d get to any kind of vacation, a few days where his mental energy could be conserved until he got back to his office desk.
Instead, he’d found himself overthinking every day since he’d first arrived, and every bit of it had to do with the girl snoring softly on her couch.
Nicholas sighed again and he brought his hands to rest over his face.
Nicholas knew exactly what he wanted.
He wanted to be with Molly Carmichael. He wanted to be the guy that she rolled her eyes at before grabbing onto his hand, the guy she’d hide behind while binge-watching horror flicks, the guy she’d sometimes complained about to Hannah while they both shared a frosted cinnamon roll, the guy she’d have to re-introduce to her parents as her boyfriend and wait to gauge their first reactions.