Olivia

The scent of sweet and gooey chocolate fills the air. The cloth I hold in my hand is cold and damp. I use it to wipe away the stray flour that had gotten onto the counter while I was baking. I inhale the scent of the room again. This is why I love working here.

After school I come right here and start baking our last batch of the day. It's nice to come in here after a hectic day of school and calm myself down with some music and the rules of baking. There's just something about baking that calms me. It's always the same recipe and steps, I never have to worry about anything different being thrown at me.

I finish cleaning the counter before heading over to the sink and rinsing the cloth out before throwing it into our dirty rag bag that sits by the sink. Then I take a quick peek at the fudge in the fridge. It still looks wet and whipped. I shut the fridge, grab my timer and my school bag before heading out of the kitchen through our swinging door and to the actual store part of the bakery.

The bakery isn't normally that busy at this time, but when I exit the kitchen for the first time I notice how noisy it is out here. There's a line that leads almost all the way to the door. The few tables that are set up throughout the small area are all crowded with groups of people.

I rush over to the till where Nick stands taking payment from a customer. "Can you grab me a Peanut Butter Fudge please?" he asks me, his blue eyes flicking towards me for a moment before flicking back to the customer.

I nod, grab a baggie and our tongs and then head to our display case. I reach in and grab the tray with the pb fudge and pull it out before grabbing one with the tongs and putting it in the baggie. I tie the bag before handing it off to the customer.

"Can I get a regular?" Nick asks.

"Regular coming right up!" I exclaim.

For the next hour we continue this routine. Only stopping for me to go and grab the last batch of the day to stock up. When the rush is finally done I lean against the counter and run my hand over my forehead. "That was exhausting," I say.

Nick nods and runs his hand through his black wavy hair which pushes the long strands backwards. "It's never been that busy before."

I nod. "Today must be international fudge day."

He chuckles. "Is that a thing?"

I shrug. "It must be based on how busy it was."

Nick nods before looking down at his watch. "My shift is almost up. You good if I go early?"

I nod. "After the hard work you did, definitely. I'll be fine for the rest of the day. Take a piece of fudge for the road too."

"Really?"

I grin and nod. I can never say no to this man.

He smiles one of his big smiles that shows all his teeth and that makes him squint. "Thanks, Olivia."

"Anytime. Have a good rest of your day."

He grabs his bag from the floor and a piece of fudge as he makes his way over to the door marked employees only. "You too." He gives me a little wave before pushing through the door and leaves.

When he's gone I sigh. Even if I didn't get to talk to him very much, every moment with him is amazing. Those blue eyes shine so bright when he's happy or laughing, and they dim to the darkest blue when he's sad or mad. And his long black curls, everytime I see him I want to run my hands through them.

"Miss?"

I blink. "Sorry!" An older lady stands before the till. "What can I do for you?" I ask. I hadn't realized I'd been zoning out. Dang that boy and the things he makes me do.

"It's my daughter's birthday and she just loves the fudge here."

I smile. "I'm glad to hear that. All of our fudge is hand made and fresh each day."

The lady smiles. "And that's what makes it special. It's all made with love."

I nod. "What can I get for you today?"

The lady turns and looks at our display case. "They all look so good."

I laugh. "They are. But I might be a little biased."

She smiles. "Which is your favorite?"

I bend down and search through the different types. "I don't really have a favorite. They're all really good. You said it was your daughter's birthday?"

I see her nod through the different trays blocking my vision of her.

I stand up and walk over to one of the cases farthest from the till. "I think I have a perfect one for the occasion then." I grab one of our fancier bags (which just has little stars on it), grab some tongs and grab one of the special fudges. It has white chocolate and colored sprinkles in it. "This is our birthday cake fudge," I tell the lady as I spin back towards her.

"That sounds just right for the occasion." Her face is lit up like a christmas tree.

I smile. This is one of my favorite parts of this job. Anytime someone doesn't know what kind of fudge they want I can always find one for them that they'll end up liking. Or, like this instance, I can find the perfect fudge that fits the occasion.

"How much will that be?" she asks.

I wave her away as she tries to hand me some cash. "It's on the house."

Her eyes grow large. "I can't possibly take this for free."

"And I can't take your cash."

"Are you sure?"

I nod. "I hope your daughter has a good birthday."

The lady tears up. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

I smile. "You're welcome."

For the rest of the day I don't see anyone as happy as that lady. I love when I can do that. I'm not allowed to or supposed to just give out fudge for free but sometimes if I can tell that they're the right person I'll give it to them for free. Sometimes I can just tell when they need their day made, or it's a feeling I just get in the pit of my stomach, but other times it's just me wanting to make a day special for someone random.

As the clock hits five o'clock I get up from the till and the homework I had been working on and grab the keys to lock the front door. I make sure no one looks like they're about to walk in before closing and locking the door. Then I flip our open sign to close and pull the blinds down that hang over our windows. I then grab all the trays and bring them into the back. The ones without any fudge leftover I throw right into our dishwasher. Before I can do that with the ones that do have fudge I put each flavor into a different bag and then place them into our fridge. They'll be good for a while and we can use them as our first batch for tomorrow morning before the fresh batch is done.

"Olivia?"

I spin around right as I dump the last trays into the dishwasher. "Over here!" I call.

My mom walks around the corner. Her brown hair pulled tightly into a ponytail. "How'd closing go?" she asks. Her green eyes scanning the kitchen.

"It went pretty good," I tell her as I switch the dishwasher on.

"Have you thought anymore about what I asked?"

I sigh and roll my eyes. "My answer remains the same."

Mom walks closer to me so that she's close enough to rest her hands on my shoulder. "But honey, you love this place."

I shake her off and cross my arms. "I do. And you know that. But that doesn't mean I want this place to be my future."

"Why not? You know how to do almost everything. You know it'll be a successful career."

I roll my eyes. "I wouldn't call running a fudge bakery, making the same amount of money every day a successful career."

Mom juts her lip out.

I sigh. "I'm sorry." I walk over to her. "But I just can't see myself working here for the rest of my life. I'm not like you and dad. I love to bake but I can't see myself getting up at the crack of dawn to make fudge every day. I can't even see myself wanting to make fudge forever. I'm also just not into the business and math side of the bakery. So why should I see this as my future?"

My mother closes her eyes and rubs the bridge of her nose like she's dealing with a toddler who's throwing a tantrum. "But this is a family business. How can it remain that way if you don't take over?"

I throw my arms up. "I'm not the only child you have!" And I know for a fact that Sasha would love to run this place one day.

"She's not old enough yet."

I roll my eyes. "And I am?"

She nods. "Of course you are. You'll be graduating this year."

"And she'll be graduating in two years! Two, mom. You can wait that long for her to take over. It's not like you'll die during that time."

"You don't know what could happen!" Her face is dangerously close to mine.

I roll my eyes.

"Plus, you don't even know what you want to do. At the very least you can try and work here until you do know what you want to do with your life."

I roll my eyes. "Whatever." I pick up my school bag from where it sits on the ground before heading to the back door. "I'll see you at home." Then I push out and let the door slam behind me.