“The festival is fine. I love you! Go find our treasure!”
When he ended the call, she was still clinging to the counter. Her phone vibrated, and a text popped up from Birdie. Treasure hunter fudge???
Shoot. She needed to get her head on straight. She had a business to run.
She forced herself to move, and carried the tray of fudge into the shop, greeting customers and trying to push thoughts of Zev and the expedition to the side. But her mind sprinted down that path. What else did they find? What was happening with the concretions they’d worked on? Had he made arrangements for the coins to be evaluated?
Carly put the fudge into the display cabinet, catching a curious look from Birdie. She felt like a fraud with her forced smile and thoughts that refused to fall into line.
But she wasn’t a fraud. She’d grown this business, nurtured relationships with customers and vendors. She’d colored within the lines for almost a decade, building a safe, predictable life that had been instrumental in her healing. It was okay to want to color outside them sometimes, wasn’t it? That wouldn’t mean she was throwing in the towel at the chocolate shop; she just wanted more.
She wanted Zev and their adventures. Couldn’t she be two people at once—chocolate-shop Carly and adventure-girl Carls?
Birdie touched Carly’s shoulder, startling her.
“I can color outside the lines if I want to!” came out before Carly could stop it.
“You can color any way you want to,” Birdie said with an amused expression. “But are you sure you want to eat all that fudge?”
Carly realized she was still bent over the tray, which was sticking halfway off the shelf, and there were two glaringly empty spots where fudge should be. Her fingers were coated with the sticky sweets…and so was her mouth.
As she rose to her feet, Birdie lowered her voice and said, “Are you okay?”
Not even close. Carly looked at the customers milling about, none of whom were ready to pay, and she said, “I’m okay. Marie said something this morning that’s got me overthinking things. Do you ever feel like this is a pit stop for you?”
“Why? Did Quinn tell you I was flirting with the hippie guy who came in?” She crossed her arms and said, “You can’t fire me for giving him my number, can you?”
“No, of course not. I’m just curious,” she said lightly.
“Well, it’s a ridiculous question. I mean, I guess it wouldn’t be if I had other aspirations, but you know how much I love this business. Ever since the first day I worked here, it’s all I’ve wanted to do.”
“So you never feel like you’re missing out on something bigger or better?”
“Like what? Working in a clothing shop? As much as I love clothes…boring. Or a bank like Quinn? I’d shoot myself in the foot if I had to do that. College is out for me, because you know, my brain is way too busy for that nonsense. I’m a creative person, and in case you haven’t noticed, I need to be doing ten different things at once. Case in point.” She picked up her phone and showed Carly the Divine Intervention Instagram feed, and then she flipped to three other social media sites, all of which had pictures of the beautifully displayed chocolates, the Divine Intervention shirts and sweatshirts, the shop filled with customers, and the sidewalk bustling with festivalgoers. Each had a different enticing post with hundreds of comments. “What other job would allow me to make delicious confections, handle marketing, deal with customers, flirt with cute guys, maintain killer social media profiles, and work with my two best friends? You’re stuck with me, boss. I love my job, and when I’m not dreaming of the hot bikers my brothers won’t let me near, I’m coming up with new ideas for us here at DI.” She lowered her voice and said, “Although tonight, Hippie Dude is going to be front and center in my mind. If you catch my drift.”
A customer flagged them from across the room, and another came to the register with a basketful of merchandise.
Birdie whispered, “My X-rated drift.”
The next few hours passed in a blur of dealing with customers, restocking displays, and overthinking. When they finally closed for the evening, Carly went with Birdie, Quinn, and Cutter to watch Kaylie Crew’s last show. They met up with Birdie’s family at the park, which was packed with people sitting on blankets and gathered in small groups. Kaylie stood