The list is impressive: bite-sized lemon cheesecakes, chocolate cream puffs, and strawberry basil tarts. Orange Creamsicle macarons, rosemary shortbread, and salted caramel cookie sandwiches with espresso cream filling, just to name a few.
It’s a monumental amount of work, but I’m determined to pull it off. Not just for my brother’s birthday, but to help Zoe to keep the café afloat. At some point in the past few months, Higher Grounds became more than just a place where I work a part-time gig. It’s a community.
My community, I realize as I slip out into the main room to find that Mrs. Kaminski has turned into a full-on drill sergeant, barking orders at Jacob and José Luis as they attempt to hang a HAPPY BIRTHDAY sign over the coffee counter.
It’s a bit early for decorations—the café is still open for regular customers today and tomorrow—but Mrs. Kaminski insisted. I think she’s secretly thrilled to be included in our big project. I’m reminded again of the impression I had of her during my Very Bad Year, how I thought she was just a grumpy old bat. Now I know that she lives alone, her husband died years ago, and she’s not allowed to have pets. Higher Grounds is where she found connection, the same way I did.
“Move that to the right. Over there.” Mrs. Kaminski flicks a crooked finger in the general direction of José Luis’s right hand.
“Here?” José Luis tugs at his end of the sign.
“No. That’s all wonky.” She waves to the left of Jacob. “It needs to go that way. Pull it to the left.”
Narrowing his eyes in concentration, Jacob carefully slides the sign an inch to the left, and then looks to Mrs. Kaminski for confirmation. “How’s this?”
“Too far now. Go right,” Mrs. Kaminski snaps. But I notice a glint in her eye, and I swear now she’s just messing with them. Jacob and José Luis play tug-of-war with the sign for a few more minutes until Mrs. Kaminski decides she’s tortured them enough and orders them to climb down. In a graceful movement, Jacob braces his hand on his chair back and hops off, landing right in front of me. He shoots me a wink, showing he knows what Mrs. Kaminski is up to, and damn it, my heart slides sideways like layer cake on a hot day.
I quickly tear my gaze away from the man in front of me and take stock of how the rest of the setup is going. “Love the decorations, Mrs. Kaminski.” Though she only growls a response, I can tell by the way the corners of her lips twitch for just a second that she’s pleased with the compliment.
We’ve all been working on this party for weeks, and I can’t believe everything is finally coming together for the big event tomorrow. José Luis practiced a dozen different cocktail recipes until we settled on our favorites, Zoe handled the food and special events liquor license, Mrs. Kaminski took charge of furniture arrangements and decorations, and Jacob pretty much did whatever I told him to do, including Ubering all over the city to pick up supplies and putting together a killer playlist to pipe through the café’s speakers.
“How’s it going with the desserts, Sadie?” Jacob asks, his gaze skimming over my chef’s coat.
Suddenly, I remember that the ingredients for hundreds of mini pastries are covering the prep tables in back. “Oh my God. I have so much to do. I have to go.” I spin on my heel and run for the kitchen where thankfully, I’m in time to pull two dozen gluten-free almond cookies out of the oven.
I fly around the kitchen setting the mixer to whip egg whites into stiff peaks and stirring choux pastry dough in a pan on the stove. I’m just starting to spread icing on an endless row of miniature dark chocolate cakes when someone slips through the door behind me. Immersed in my multitude of tasks, I only vaguely register that the person is at the sink washing their hands. I don’t have even a second to look up and see who it is until suddenly, a strong male hand gently reaches over and slides the icing spatula from my grasp. Startled, I spin around to find myself staring up into Jacob’s dark chocolate eyes, only inches from mine. I blush brighter than a red velvet cake.
“I’ll ice them, you decorate,” he says. “Does that sound okay?”
I nod, and the next thing I know, Jacob has swiped my tray of mini cakes along with my bowl of icing. “Zoe told me you’re in a time crunch because you have to do some work for your boss tomorrow morning.” He gracefully smooths chocolate buttercream over each delicate cake top, surprisingly good at this. I guess those piano-playing hands are pretty skilled with instruments of the nonmusical variety.
But let’s be honest. I already knew that.
I busy myself with filling a pastry bag full of vanilla cream and not staring at his forearms. “Yeah. It looks like it’s going to be an all-nighter for me.”
“Not if there are two of us tackling it.” Jacob glances up from the cupcakes and lowers the spatula to the table. “If you want my help, that is.” His face flashes with uncertainty, and I realize this is the first time we’ve been alone together since that kiss in my apartment.
These past few weeks, Jacob and I have been too immersed in party planning to act weird about that night, and we seem to have come to an unspoken agreement to pretend nothing happened between us. But it’s one thing to hang out with the group in the café while making lists about party supplies and talking about streaming my brother’s favorite bands. It’s entirely another to spend a whole day covered in sugar and cocoa powder while enclosed in a hot kitchen together.
Just thinking about it makes me want to wriggle out of this chef’s coat to cool down.
But Jacob doesn’t feel that way about me, I remind myself. So, instead, I say, “That’s really nice, Jacob. Thank you.”
Jacob shrugs it off. “I admire how hard you’re working to make this Higher Grounds venture a success.” He gives me a crooked smile. “But to be honest, I’m really just sucking up in the hopes that you’ll let me cut in the long lines when you open your own bakery.”
I laugh, and despite our messy interlude in my apartment, I’m reminded of how far Jacob and I have come this past year. It’s almost unimaginable that he was around for most of my life, and I barely knew him. I certainly didn’t appreciate him the way I should have. This friendship with Jacob is a second chance I’m truly grateful for. “You know you’ll always be welcome in my bakery.”
He flashes me a grin across the table, and with a flourish, gives the last cake on his tray a swipe of chocolate buttercream. “Now that these are done, what would you like me to do next? I’m at your service. There’s just one thing I ask.” He has a smear of chocolate on his cheek. It’s killing me not to reach over and gently wipe it off.
Instead, I twist the pastry bag in my hands. “What is it?”
He laughs. “Please go easier on me than Mrs. Kaminski.”
Chapter 26
It’s the evening of Owen’s birthday party, and Jacob and I are finally done with all the baking. So. Much. Baking. I’m coated in a fine layer of flour and powdered sugar that’s going to take weeks to wash off. But it was more fun than I expected. And, thanks to Jacob’s help, not only did I get everything done for Owen’s party, but Xavier is serving up some beautiful cream puffs as we speak. I survey Mrs. Kaminski’s decorations, José Luis’s bar setup, and my pastry table. The café looks amazing, the pastries are delicious, and I’m really proud of us for pulling it off. We finish the last-minute details—lighting candles, polishing cocktail glasses—and the guests begin to filter in. I make the rounds greeting people, and when anyone compliments me on the great space I picked for the party, I hand them one of the business cards that José Luis designed for Zoe.