From my perch on the seat beside Mrs. Kaminski, I take it all in. The café is bright and festive, packed with people mingling around the dessert trays, chatting in small groups at the café tables, and dancing to the band onstage. At some point in the evening, José Luis dug up a couple of gold feather boas and plastic New Year’s headbands, and both he and Mrs. Kaminski are wearing them proudly.
Customers come by to rave about my pastries to José Luis, and he points to me. “The artiste is right here!” he declares in a voice loud enough to make me wonder if he’s also been hitting the Kahlúa.
My phone buzzes on the counter, and I grab it like it contains the secret to the universe. Which, at this point, it does. My universe anyway. Midnight is approaching, and I haven’t heard a word back from Jacob about my rambling message. I check my texts, and my shoulders slump. It’s a message from Owen, wishing me a happy New Year and asking me what I’m doing.
At Higher Grounds.
Cool.
What are you doing? I’m shamelessly hoping he’ll mention Jacob.
The usual, Owen replies, telling me exactly nothing. Or maybe it’s telling me everything. If Jacob and Owen are together, Jacob would have said something about my message. The fact that my brother is completely silent on the subject doesn’t seem like a very positive development. I drop my phone back on the counter.
Zoe, who’s been absent since I arrived, pushes open the front door of the café with an armful of milk jugs balanced in her hands. I run over and grab two of them to lighten her load.
“Thanks, Sadie.” Zoe hefts the rest of the plastic containers onto the coffee bar, handing one to José Luis to mix up another batch of cappuccino cocktails. “I had to run to the deli down the street. With the mad rush for your pastries over the holidays, we’ve been selling out of drinks, too.” She gives me a grin, her white teeth contrasting against her dark skin. “Not that I’m complaining; you’ve been amazing for business. In fact, if there was any chance you could come in and bake a couple more days a week…”
I turn to look at her, shaping the idea in my head like a ball of focaccia dough.
Zoe holds up a hand, probably taking my silence for lack of interest. “Sorry, I don’t mean to pressure you. I know you’re stretched thin already. And,” Zoe gives me a rueful smile, “baking at Higher Grounds isn’t exactly your dream.”
And suddenly, it’s so clear, I can’t believe I didn’t see it.
“Actually, Zoe, what if it is my dream?”
Zoe rounds the counter so she’s standing on the other side, facing me. “What do you mean?”
“I love this place, you give me tons of creative freedom, I make my own hours, and I work with the best people in the world.” I lean on the counter, my excitement building. “What if I want to work here full time? Or… even better. What if we were partners? I have some money saved. Why would I open my own place when everything I need is right here?”
Zoe’s mouth drops open. “I—You’d want to do that?”
“You’re selling out of everything I make. What if I could really focus on increasing the pastry offerings and building our private events? And we haven’t even talked about catering. I know some really hardworking people who unfortunately might be out of a job soon—” I think back to the customers marching out of Xavier’s restaurant. We could hire the chefs and servers to cater our events. “There are so many possibilities.”
“Sadie,” Zoe says, looking a little dazed. “I completely love this idea. But, what about your dream of opening your own bakery?”
I think about that dream. Of all the dreams I’ve been chasing during my Very Bad Year. I was so wrapped up in what I thought I wanted I didn’t stop to recognize what I actually had.
I’ll never make that mistake again.
By some miracle, I’ve been given a second chance on my second chance, and I’m not about to blow it.
“Zoe, I don’t really want my own place. I want to work with people I care about, who care about me. And that’s you.” I grab her hand and squeeze. The combination of caffeine, alcohol, and adrenaline leaves me a little light-headed, filling me with emotion. I turn to José Luis. “And you.” He blows me a kiss. “And you, too, Mrs. Kaminski.” I smile at the older woman. Her eyes are glassy from the cocktails, her HAPPY NEW YEAR’S headband askew, and she smiles back at me for maybe the first time ever.
Finally, my gaze slides back to Zoe. “So, what do you say?”
Across the room, the band pauses the music and the singer steps up to the mic. “Only one minute until midnight!” he announces. And suddenly, we’re swallowed up by the crowd jumping to their feet. Noisemakers rattle, José Luis pops corks on bottles of champagne, and the band plays a drumroll.
“Ten…”
Someone slides a bubbling glass into my hand.
“Five…”
Someone else wraps a gold feather boa around my neck.
“Three…”
And then Zoe is back in front of me, clutching my hand. “Yes. Let’s do this.” She flashes me a grin. “Partner.”
“One…”
I throw my arms around her.
“Happy New Year!”
Chapter 40
The party carries on for hours, and I’m swept up helping José Luis make drinks and refilling pastry trays. I jump in to restock bar supplies, arrange piles of chocolate-dipped profiteroles and lemon shortbread stars on the dessert table, and mingle with the crowd, handing out dozens of cards and talking up Higher Grounds’ special orders and private events.
The last partygoers don’t trickle out until sometime after 4:00 a.m. Mrs. Kaminski is nodding off in her chair, but she insisted on staying until the end, and she rallies when José Luis pops open one more bottle of champagne to toast Zoe’s and my new partnership. We crowd into a corner booth, lifting our glasses and talking about ideas for the future of the business. I toss back the champagne with a wide smile, but inside, I’m starting to lose a little bit of steam.
Jacob should be here tonight. He’s a part of Higher Grounds too, and it doesn’t feel right for us to celebrate this new chapter without him. My phone hasn’t buzzed since my brother texted hours ago, and Jacob must have gotten my message by now. His silence can only mean that he’d rather pretend nothing ever happened between us, and I guess I have to accept that.
I guess I have to be happy with the fact that I gave it my best shot.
Zoe slides in next to me and puts an arm around my shoulder. And then it’s like she can read my mind, or maybe it’s all over my face, because she says, “Jacob should be here, shouldn’t he?”
It hits me at once, and my eyes fill with tears. It’s going to be a long, long time before it stops hurting. I guess maybe I deserve a little hurt, because Jacob felt this way about me for years, and I was clueless. But he moved on, and someday I will, too. But today is not that day. My throat tightens, and all I can do is nod. “Shit,” I mutter, wiping my cheeks with the heel of my hand.
Zoe gives me a comforting smile. “Don’t give up on him yet. I bet he’ll come around.”