Sugar Rush (18 page)

Grams was in the front row, more beautiful than Sophia Loren, sitting ever so still in her red dress and heels, but Nick was nowhere to be found.

Dulcie shifted in her own heels, cursing again that she’d worn such uncomfortable shoes, but she wanted every advantage, and like it or not, a contestant’s appearance at one of these things was a direct reflection on her store.

A few other finalists wore chef’s outfits, but that wasn’t Dulcie’s style; she’d never worn a chef’s coat in her life—since she wasn’t a chef and all. She knew a couple of the others wearing them weren’t, either, but she supposed everyone used whatever advantage they felt necessary, just like with her heels.

Dulcie took a deep breath, vowing to find Nick the second the judging was over. Because now, it was too late. It was almost her turn.

The judges had arrived at the finalist next to Dulcie, who unveiled his masterpiece. And what a masterpiece. Layer upon layer upon layer of varying shades of chocolate. The textures were varied as well, from a truffle-like filling, to fudge, to a harder, glossy coating on the top. There had to be thirty thin layers in each piece. A few people in the crowd gasped and Dulcie had to hold her mouth closed not to do the same. It was a work of art. It must have taken hours.

Of course, her creation had, too, but suddenly she felt even less confident than before.

The judges took their first bites, the woman judge’s eyes rolling into the back of her head. It had to taste as good as it looked. The contestant gave Dulcie a little smirk, which she wanted to slap right off his pretentious face (he was one of the chef coaters), then a second later an involuntary memory of a different smirk, one much more mischievous than cocky popped into her head.

She closed her eyes, relishing the memory.

Then Dulcie took a deep breath and concentrated on her feet. Perhaps the pain of her heels was a good thing after all. She shifted back and forth, reveling in the way the back of the shoe wore on her left foot, and the toes pinched on her right one.

The distraction worked and in what seemed like an instant, the judges stood in front of her.

She inhaled through her nose, hoping she didn’t look as shaky as she felt, though her hand gave it away as she reached for the cover.

She closed her eyes and pulled it off.

A gasp rose from the crowd, which may have been even louder than the one for the guy beside her. She was sure the short judge even let out a little sound of delight as well.

Dulcie’s heart leaped.

She glanced at her chocolate creations and as she’d hoped, the lights glinted off the delicate pink spun sugar that she’d painstakingly crafted and molded into perfect stained glass–like bowls to house the rest of the confection, a subtle rosewater truffle made with the finest quality white chocolate and the perfect subtlety of rose petals, which Dulcie boiled herself to get just the right infusion. The truffle was enrobed in a delicate light pink outer coating of white chocolate and topped with a handmade candied rose petal piece to top it off.

It appeared almost organic, like it had been created by nature over time in a magical sun-streaked paradise of flowers.

“It’s called the Crystal Rose Truffle,” Dulcie said, trying her best not to let her voice shake.

Under the lights, they came alive, the most sparkling, delicate creations even Dulcie had ever seen; certainly different from the rest of the dark colored confections lining the table.

Whispers floated through the crowd as they strained to view Dulcie’s work.

The judges marked for appearance as they discussed it, and Dulcie turned her head so one ear was toward them, but still, she couldn’t hear. Seriously, they must take courses in lip reading to even understand each other.

Giving up on trying to hear, Dulcie glanced around, her eyes falling on the competitor beside her. He shifted away from her table, having leaned in to get a better look at the Crystal Rose Truffles. Now his mouth, which had mysteriously dropped open, slowly clamped shut.

Dulcie tried to stop it, but a smirk, ever so tiny, found its way to her own lips as he cleared his throat and turned to stare straight ahead, pulling his shoulders back and crossing his hands in front of himself.

The judges finally picked up her confections, carefully, like they were a delicate treasure—exactly what Dulcie had been going for—and each one smelled their sample. Dulcie hoped the scent of rosewater was just strong enough to make them feel like it was a beautiful spring day in the park.

The judges glanced at one another with anticipation and bit into Dulcie’s creation at the same time. The female judge let out an involuntary noise of pleasure, which was almost a bit uncomfortable, to tell the truth. The male judges remained silent but they both had their eyes closed, savoring the flavors for as long as possible.

Grams practically jumped up and down in the seating area.

Whatever the outcome, Dulcie would never forget that moment.

Chapter Eighteen

Nick stood at the edge of the large room, ducking behind a pillar like he’d ducked behind the plant in the same hotel not so long ago. The first time, he’d been nervous about getting caught by his father or her grandmother, but this time his only worry, his only thought, was Dulcie.

Nick had never witnessed anything more beautiful.

Sure, the candies she’d made were spectacular—he’d never seen a food so magical, so delicate—but it was Dulcie who really shone. As the judges reacted to her work, she glowed.

The rest of the contestants seemed to want to crawl under the table and cry. The moment the cover lifted, the entire row of faces had fallen. Nothing like Dulcie’s Crystal Rose Truffle had ever been in the competition before.

They all knew who the winner would be. Everyone in the entire room seemed to know the competition was over…except for Dulcie.

She couldn’t seem to wrap her head around what was right in front of her.

Nick hadn’t needed to sabotage How Sweet It Is’s entry; Dulcie would have taken the competition all on her own. Still…he didn’t regret it for a second.

“You did a nice thing for her, kid.” A voice from behind him made him jump.

Nick turned and recoiled a little as he discovered Dulcie’s grandmother. “Oh, uh, Ms. Carter. I didn’t see you walk up. I’m…I’m really sorry for everything that happened.”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I know you were the one who planned that whole watermelon thing, and anyone who can put that man in his place is a friend of mine.”

Nick’s face reddened. He didn’t want to be known as the guy who betrayed a family member. “Er…that’s not really why I did it.”

“I know, I know,” Ms. Carter said, smiling. “You did it for her.” She motioned with her head toward Dulcie.

Nick cleared his throat. He wasn’t too comfortable that Ms. Carter had picked up on his feelings before he even got a chance to admit them to Dulcie.

But Ms. Carter just chuckled at his silence. “Like I said, it was a good thing you did. Now let’s hope you fell a long way from the tree and you can keep it up.”

Nick’s eyebrows knitted together. “What did happen between you and my father, anyway?” He shouldn’t be asking, but the curiosity proved to be too much.

Ms. Carter shrugged. “Oh, you know how these things go. Passions gone awry. I guess sometimes you need to find out the hard way that business and romance don’t always mix, even if it
is
the candy business.” She smiled a little sadly.

“He said you stole a recipe.”

Ms. Carter laughed a little. “Yes, I suppose he did say that. And well, maybe it was partially his, but the original idea had been mine. We made it together, borne out of our passion for chocolate and for each other,” she said with a flourish.

“If there was such passion, why did it matter who used the chocolate?”

Ms. Carter tilted her head. “I suspect it was
because
of that very passion,” she said. “The thing with passion…the kind we had, it finds its way into everything. Into love, and into fights. It’s why the feud has gone on so long, I suppose,” she said with a sigh. “When a relationship like that ends, a person still longs for the passion, even if it is…misdirected.”

Nick raised his eyebrows. “Sounds like maybe it’s something a person shouldn’t give up so easily.”

Ms. Carter shook her head, chuckling as she walked away. She turned back for a moment. “Treat her right, Nick, you hear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, a smile crossing his face.

But his smile fell quickly when he saw Ms. Carter was in a beeline—heading straight in the direction of his father.

Neither one of them seemed to realize they were on a collision course.

“Evelyn!” Nick’s father said, jumping back as they nearly ran into each other. He was mopping his head with a tissue.

Ms. Carter pulled her shoulders back, composing herself before speaking. “Ashton,” she said with a little nod. “That was an, er…interesting confection you had up there.”

His father squinted at her; Nick knew the expression very well. It was the one his father wore when he was trying to come up with a great comeback. But then his expression changed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. He swallowed. “Your grandaughter’s chocolate was beautiful,” he said.

Nick raised his eyebrows. That was about the last thing he’d expected his father to say.

Ms. Carter’s expression softened a little, too. “Thank you,” she said graciously.

Nick wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, or if they were actually leaning slightly toward each other.

“Well,” Nick’s dad said, clearing his throat. “It was nice seeing you, Evelyn.”

“Nice seeing you, too, Ashton,” Ms. Carter said, watching his father walk away.

Nick had been so busy watching the exchange that he realized too late what his father was walking toward.

Him.

“Hi, Dad,” he said, straightening.

In the short distance from Ms. Carter to him, his father’s face had become redder than Nick had ever seen it. “Come with me
now
,” he said through gritted teeth. He yanked on Nick’s arm, pulling him into a small area off the side of the conference room.

“I can’t believe you would stoop so low,” he said.

“You stole a chocolate recipe from a girl’s dead mother and you think
I’m
the one stooping low?”

“I did not raise you to shame the family this way,” his father said, as if he hadn’t heard a single word. “How could you put that disgrace of a chocolate on the table? Do you have any idea what this will do to my reputation? To your
family’s
reputation?”

Nick shook his head. “That kind of guilt isn’t going to work on me, since you’re the only family I’ve got, and these last couple weeks have showed me a new side to you. A side I wish I had never seen. A side I can never forgive you for.”

“Forgive
me
?” his father said, teetering on the edge of losing it. “I haven’t put shame on this family. I haven’t taken the steps to ruin our only source of income. Can you even imagine what this it going to do to our customer base?”

“Actually, Dad, you
are
the one who has put shame on this family. I’m just the one who called you on it.” He leaned in close, and for the first time, relished in the fact he was so much taller than his father. “And I don’t give a good God damn what the hell happens to you…or the family business.”

Of course, Nick knew full well that How Sweet It Is would be just fine. Spending so much time with Dulcie at Candy Land Confections had made him realize that his father’s customer base wasn’t composed of the die-hard foodie blog people. No, they’d been catering to the mass customer base with their low prices for too long. Nothing was going to stop that automated ball from continuing to roll on.

“After all I’ve done for you—” his father said.

“All you’ve done for me?” Nick said, incredulous. He sucked in a deep, calming breath. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me, I do. The business degree from Harvard; the condo and the car. But those were things
you
wanted for me, Dad. You made it so the only thing in life that would ever be good enough for you was for me to follow in your footsteps.” He stood straighter, taking a step toward the door.

His father was stunned into silence for once, but Nick knew it wouldn’t last long.

He had to say what he’d wanted to say for years, and he had to say it now.

“But candy isn’t my thing, and I’m pretty sure deep down you always knew it. So that’s why—and I need to make it clear that I’ve been wanting to do this for a very long time—I quit.”

His father’s face went through a myriad of emotions, particularly because Nick hadn’t given him a chance to say his piece, and his father was not a man who tolerated not being heard.

Which made it so much more satisfying when Nick walked right out the door.

His father would have to remain silent.

…

Dulcie watched as Nick emerged through a door off the conference room.

She tried to move toward him but was stopped by a blogger, “just for a few questions.” Soon she was surrounded by people shooting questions at her faster than she could answer.

Nick hung around the back of the crowd for a minute, then disappeared.

Ten minutes later, she could only hope her answers had been coherent and her exit more graceful than she thought, praying she hadn’t actually spit out that she “really just had to get to a bathroom.”

She fled the room as if heading in that direction but stopped just outside the door, looking each way, searching for Nick.

He was pacing across the hall.

“Hey,” she said, suddenly shy.

“Hey,” he said back nervously. “Listen, I just need you to know how sorry I am about everything. You don’t have to belive me, but I swear, I knew nothing about what was going on with the Salted Caramel recipe.”

“I realize that now,” she said, clearing her throat. “That was quite the creation you had there.” She laughed a bit, motioning to the judges’ table. “But aren’t you worried about your store? The embarrassment was nearly the end of me last time.”

Nick shrugged. “You’re more important than the store
or
my embarrassment. Besides, I have no ties to How Sweet It Is anymore.”

Dulcie’s eyes darted to his. “What do you mean?”

“I quit.”

“But you can’t quit your store; it’s your family,” she said. “It’s all you’ve ever done.”

“Then it’s high time to try something else, don’t you think? And no, I won’t quit my family, but that store is not my family. It stopped being about family a long time ago when everything became about money.”

Dulcie’s heart raced. “I’m sorry, too. About everything, I mean. I was so awful to accuse you, and then I didn’t think you’d want to see me. God, I was so mean,” she finished, her mouth open, needing to say more.

“So…you don’t hate me?”

Her eyes widened. “God, no. Of course I don’t hate you.”

The hallway had cleared out, everyone off to catch a few rays of sun or a nervous smoke or two before the judges called the contestants back. They were the only two people left.

The silence engulfed them like a candy getting coated.

Dulcie’s mind went blank.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. A million thoughts flew through, but none of them could find her vocal chords.

How he was standing right in front of her. How he’d saved her store. How in a roundabout way, because of him, she had been forced to finally suck it up and create something new, something all her own.

How she’d remembered the rose he had given her. How he had been the inspiration for the Crystal Rose Truffle.

Thankfully, in the desperation of that silence, Nick found something other than words.

He leaned down and kissed her passionately, like he was vowing never to let some stupid feud or competition ever get in the way of their future again.

“Woooo!” a scream came from the lobby a moment later.

Dulcie turned to catch Grams peeking around the hall. Nick glanced over and Grams shot them a wink before disappearing again, leaving them with the silence.

It was Dulcie’s chance to return the favor and pulled him in for a kiss that would last almost as long as it took for the judges to come back with their final decision.

“Pssst…,” someone whispered.

Dulcie looked up.

“It’s time,” Grams said, motioning for them to come back in.

“Before we go,” Nick said, “I just need you to know…I want to be with you, Dulcie. Like, really with you; no more sneaking around or hiding out at the market. I mean, this feels real, doesn’t it?”

Dulcie nodded, her eyes watering. “I want you to come with me,” she said.

“Come where?” Nick asked. “You have to go up for the judging. We can’t go anywhere.”

“No, I mean come up for the judging. I don’t want to go alone.”

“I don’t think they want me there,” he said, pulling his arms away slightly. “Take your grandmother up with you.”

Dulcie shook her head. “Grams won’t come. Besides, I want you with me. You were, after all, the inspiration for my recipe.”

“I was?”

“Remember the pink rose you gave me that night when you came to the shop?”

“Yeah,” he said, looking a little embarrassed.

“Well, Grams told me the secret to great candy making.”

“Oh, there’s a secret, is there?” he asked, smirking.

“Yes, there is,” Dulcie said matter-of-factly. “Grams told me, ‘a good candy is like a good memory. Take people away, make them think of the best times in their lives. If you can turn your creation into a feeling like that, you’ve got a winner.’”

Nick raised his eyebrows. “Your grandmother is a smart, smart lady.”

“Yes, she is,” Dulcie said, smiling. “So I remembered that day, and how the rose was so beautiful…but how everything sort of went downhill.”