Page 39 of Emerald Moon (Pitch Mountain Pack #2)

twenty-six

Jo woke up earlier than usual to steal away a small corner of the bakery kitchen from Emmaline and make a very important batch of macarons — a few batches, actually, of what they considered to be their best flavor combinations.

There were classics like vanilla, but also bolder combinations like their milk chocolate and earl grey.

It worked with the right balance and they were determined to make these as perfect as they could.

When they were finished, they were tired but satisfied.

Mostly. Jo knew what perfection looked like.

Perfection was Parisa’s Persian bread or Emmaline’s pear and sage tartlet or Billie’s orange blossom tartlet.

These macarons were okay. They were Jo’s best attempt, but it was easy to see which batches were made towards the end when their hand got tired of making perfect piping circles.

A hundred little voices in their head told them to give these to friends and try to talk to Parisa about selling these in the shop another day, but if the past few days had been a lesson in anything, it was that there was never a perfect time. They just had to go for the things they wanted.

They boxed up every single macaron, even the less-than-lovely looking ones, took a deep breath, and made their way back to the pack house, through the front door, and down the hall to Parisa’s office.

The door was cracked, but Jo knocked anyway, careful not to drop the boxes of macarons as they balanced on their raised knee. “Alpha Parisa?”

”Come on in, Jo.”

They tensed their entire body, head to toe, then let everything go, hoping their nerves would disappear, too.

Pushing open the door with the corner of a box, Jo realized Seraphine was in the office, too.

Parisa sat behind her desk, an array of planners and documents on her desk, while Seraphine sat opposite her in a chair with her red binder propped up on one knee as she crossed her legs.

Two sets of eyes landed on Jo and they lost their voice for a beat before they forced out the words they could manage until they got their footing, “I made lots of macarons, like, my favorite, or, like, my best ones. I made my best macarons for you today and I made a lot, but it’s for a reason.

I really respect what everyone does at the bakery and I love being able to help bring everyone else’s creations to life, but what I really want —“

One of the boxes slipped and Seraphine reached out to push it back into place.

Jo dipped their head in thanks and kept going.

“What I really want is to contribute, too. Not just by cutting fruit and getting things prepared. I want to make things. Macarons. I want to make my macarons and sell them in Violet Moon. And maybe these aren’t ready for that yet, or maybe I’m not ready for that yet, but I think I could be, but it’s up to you to decide. So here’s some to look at and try.”

They robotically stepped forward and placed the boxes on Parisa’s desk. They glanced at Seraphine who was beaming from ear to ear.

Parisa opened the top box for a second and closed it. She tucked a piece of brown hair behind her ear and smiled. “I was wondering when you were going to ask. I’d love to.”

”What?”

”I already know the quality of your work and how much you’ve improved. I think the macarons in these boxes would be a welcome addition to the cases out front — today.”

Jo stared at her, mouth slightly open, glancing between Parisa and Seraphine and waiting for her words to sink in.

Seraphine flashed them two thumbs up.

”Thank you,” Jo managed, looking back at Parisa. “Are you sure you don’t need to look at them and check? The things we sell are so beautiful and I’m not sure these are up to those standards yet. I can make a few more batches before —“

”You can if you want to, but I know what you can do. These are ready for the store. We’ll have to clear some space for them, but I know no one will mind.”

”Are you sure?”

Parisa puffed out a laugh. “I’m certain.”

Seraphine leapt out of her chair, binder clattering onto the floor. “Let’s go! Let’s go! We can make a spot for them, make a sign letting customers know there’s something new, get cute little cards for each flavor to show them off. We can go now!”

”Are you sure you don’t want to try any first? I brought them here for y’all to see.”

”I mean, if you’re offering a macaron, I’m hardly one to say no to anything sweet and delicious,” Seraphine said.

Parisa unstacked the boxes. “Which flavor would you recommend we try?”

”If you want classic — vanilla. If you want weird, either the chocolate and earl grey one, the coffee and orange one, or the savory one.”

”The savory one?” Seraphine questioned.

”Yeah, my girlfriend doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, so I experimented and made a sort of everything-bagel type shell with cream cheese filling.”

“Girlfriend, huh?” Seraphine’s grin widened again, but she mercifully turned back to the boxes, wiggling her fingers. “I’m going to try one of each.”

”You’re going to upset your stomach, eshgham ,” Parisa reminded her.

Seraphine waved a dismissive hand. “The savory one will balance out all the sugar, obviously. I’ll have that one first so all the others are dessert.”

”You know, the more you eat, the fewer we’ll have to sell,” Parisa said.

Seraphine stopped short of grabbing her first one and looked at Jo. “Are you sure I can have some?”

“Yeah! I brought them for y’all. I never even thought they’d make it out there today,” Jo said. “Whatever we sell today is a bonus,” they added, still mentally pinching themselves to make sure this was really happening.

Later that day, just before the after dinner dessert rush, Jo took a step back from the cases and saw their creations in neat, little rows behind the glass, each with a gold-lined sign noting the flavor and the price.

A few were already gone because customers had purchased them while they were stocking the case.

Wil popped up beside them, bumping against Jo’s shoulder. “They were always meant to be there. Look how good they look.”

“You think?”

“Without a doubt.”

Jo leaned to the side and rested their head on Wil’s arm. “I think I’m going to let myself be proud of this.”

She let out a soft laugh and wrapped an arm around their opposite shoulder. “That’s what I want to hear.”

“I saw your new piece for sale on the wall.” Jo motioned towards the painting — a stylized landscape of a forest view, familiar around Hickorywood.

“What do you think?”

“A little more abstract. I like it.”

“Tried something new. I like how it turned out. Don’t think I’ll do it again, though.”

Jo picked up their head and looked at her. “You won’t? But it looks so cool!”

Wil shrugged. “Time to try something else new, I guess.”

“Lots of new for us lately.”

“Think we need to celebrate?”

“I celebrated like whoa with those bottles of wine the other night.”

“I was thinking more like maybe we deserve a dinner outside of the pack house together.”

“Ooh yes, let’s! Where do you want to go?”

Back and forth, they named their favorite spots until picking one for the next evening. Wil ruffled Jo’s hair and excused herself so she could get ready for her shift at the bakery.

Jo snapped a photo and texted Cass, giving the quick version of everything that had happened that day. They also sent the picture to Krista and Wil, adding about a million exclamation points and pressing send.

They weren’t scheduled to work, but Jo couldn’t bring themselves to leave. From behind the counter, they watched as Violet Moon regulars commented on the new offerings before grabbing a couple and new customers picked out a few macarons to go with their other treats.

Krista popped into the bakery before her shift at the restaurant that evening. “Babe! I’m so proud of you! Look at you — doing the thing.”

“I did the thing! I worked up the nerve to ask Alpha Parisa, and I’m so glad I did. Worth it. Now I’ve got to figure out a macaron-baking schedule — if I want them to be a daily thing or a sometimes thing — but the first hurdle is cleared.”

“You can always start as a sometimes thing and build up to more, if you like. Plus, it might not be bad to have a bit of a buffer for those yucky brain days we get.”

“Good point. Maybe I’ll make my macarons like Alpha Parisa’s bread — a regular, but not daily thing. And I can keep the flavors fresh — maybe have a few I always offer and then some other flavors that I include because I felt compelled to create them.”

“What’s been selling so far today? And can I have some? I’ll totally pay for them.”

“A little of everything, but I’m nearly out of the chocolate and earl grey ones. I thought folks would avoid those. And, yeah, of course.”

“Just too bad I couldn’t be your first sale.”

“But you’re my most important sale of the day.”

Krista rushed forward to give them one of her usual too-tight hugs. “At least until Cass buys some, right? Ooh, I’m still so happy that my flakiness and my hectic work schedule made your love happen.” She took a step back and pointed at herself. “Me! I made this.”

“I may have had something to do with it, too.”

“Like, a little bit.” Krista laughed.

She bought her macarons, ate over half of them in fewer than five minutes, and gave Jo another hug before leaving.

When Cass walked through the doors, Jo was elated but hardly surprised.

“You’re here!” Jo said.

”Of course I am. I came as soon as I finished closing up at the butcher.” Cass’ eyes drifted along the row of macarons.

”They’re not totally perfect, but Alpha Parisa said I could sell them!”

”They look plenty perfect to me.” Cass leaned forward on the counter and said in a low voice, “I’d kiss you now to celebrate, but there’s too many people here.”

“I’m technically not on the clock. I’ve just been here selling macarons because I can’t believe it’s happening.” They gestured towards the front door. “We could go for a walk. I don’t think it’s a million degrees out anymore since the sun set.”

“A walk would be great,” Cass agreed. She waited for Jo to slip around the edge of the counter before taking their hand in hers.

They made it a few steps outside, just far enough to get to the corner of the building, before Cass lifted Jo into her arms and pressed their back into the side of Violet Moon.

Jo wrapped their legs around her middle, both of them smiling too much as their noses touched.

Cass tilted her head and kissed Jo through smiles that slowly melted into something sweeter.

”I’m proud of you,” Cass whispered against Jo’s lips when they parted.

Jo wanted to say something about how it was silly to be proud of this, how it was just baked goods in a shop, but they were tired of downplaying how they felt. “Thank you. I’m happy. A lot of good things are happening right now and I feel really lucky.”