“I'm going to convince you that Christmas Wishes should stay the way it is,” Molly told him. “That Christmas should stay the way it is.”
“I promise to give you a fair chance,” he told her. “Just like I said I would.”
“Good,” Molly said with a firm nod. “But it’d be nice to know a little bit more about the competition. What do these investor guys usually bring with them? Spreadsheets? Powerpoints?”
“Potential expense reports. Broad financial statements. Revenue estimates for the next five years,” Nicholas replied, listing the business terms off on his fingers.
“Oh...” Molly racked her thoughts for something comparable, unable to think of anything she could do to impress that oh-so-logical side of Nicholas’ brain. Panic tickled at the back of her mind that this wasn't going to work.
Then it hit her.
Her eyes then lit up, realizing that she didn’t have to impress Nicholas as a businessman.
In fact, from the very beginning, it was never Molly’s intention to convince Nicholas to save the shop using facts and figures, was it?
No.
It had always been about convincing Nicholas’ heart that Christmas was worth a try.
That Christmas was fun.
That Christmas was worthwhile.
That Christmas was possible.
“I really do have to go now, Nicholas.” Molly beamed up at Nicholas. She went to her tip toes and kissed his cheek, feeling heat rush through her.
“Wait.” Nicholas caught her in his arms, this time resting his hands on her waist. “Promise me you’re not mad.”
“Nicholas Kerstman.” Molly grinned at him as she leaned forward on her toes again. She planted a soft kiss on Nicholas’ lips before placing her heels back on the ground. “I’m not mad at you. I promise. I'm just determined to show you what that store has to offer. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Ms. Molly.” Nicholas hesitated for a moment before he moved his hands away from her waist. Despite the cold, he waited outside until she was out of sight.
* * *
Molly’s knuckles rapped hard against the front door of Sweetness & Light.
Hannah came to answer with a puzzled expression and a smudge of flour on her face. “Molly? Why are you knocking on my door like you’re looking for the last hotel room in Bethlehem?”
“I got your takeaway plate.” Molly pushed her way inside the bakery, setting her purse and the plate down on the counter. “And now, I’m going to need your help.”
“Alright, did you need some advice with Nicholas or—”
“I need you to teach me how to make a Buche de Noel cake. Like. Right now,” Molly explained. She shrugged out of her coat and left it on the counter. “Please?”
“Molly...” Hannah groaned, and slowly joined Molly at the counter. “I’m sorry. There’s just no way. I’m way too swamped with BakeTown stuff. Maybe after Christmas we could try making one together?”
Molly shook her head. “I don’t have until after Christmas. I need to have them ready by tomorrow.” Molly glanced around the bakery, trying to come up with a workable solution. “Okay, what about if you give me your recipe for the cake, and you let me borrow your kitchen, too? Just the parts you aren't using to get ready.”
“That could work...” Hannah murmured, thinking over Molly’s suggestion. “Anything that needed to be cooled is already in the back of my fridges, and everything else I’ll have to make the day of, so it has that perfect, crispy edge to it.”
“So, you’ll help?” Molly asked, her voice full of desperate hope. “Please say you’ll help me. Please, please, please—”
“Yes! I’ll help. Stop pouting,” Hannah told her. With a laugh, she motioned Molly toward the back of her kitchen. “Come back here for a minute and I’ll show you how everything works. And don’t be insulted if I pop in to supervise, too. I kind of need my bakery not to burn down.”
“I’m not going to burn your bakery down,” Molly promised, rolling her eyes. “At least not on purpose.”
* * *