Brayden, Melissa - How Sweet It Is

Risa scampered down, already in project mode. “I know I can. I love ballerinas. I am one.” She twirled four or five times for them and after a round of applause headed into the adjacent room to start her quest.

Molly refocused her gaze on Jordan. “The world is gone. Just you and me left. So what do you have going here? International espionage? Code cracking?”

She decided to just go for it. “All right, I’ll tell you, but don’t laugh.”

“Deal.”

“Do you remember the short documentaries I used to work on in college?”

Molly sat down, instantly involved. “Of course I do. The one about the suicide forest stuck with me for weeks. That one won a local award, didn’t it?”

“Two actually. It was that kind of project that made me want to work in film for the rest of my life. But the reality of a big budget studio is nothing like the days of working on something that mattered. The entertainment business pays well, but the intrinsic value is not exactly comparable.”

Molly raised an eyebrow. “Okay. So what does all this equal?”

She met Molly’s eyes tentatively, already feeling the weight of her scrutiny. “I don’t want to go back to the studio once my leave of absence is complete. My friend George and I have been tossing around an idea for the past year or so. He’s just been waiting for my okay, and I think I’m ready to give it. I want to start my own production company. With him on board, of course. Make the kinds of films that I want to make with the people I know I can make them with. And I want to start with documentaries.”

“Wow.”

“And before you say it’s a long shot and that I should stay where the water’s warm, I want you to know that I think I can do this. I’ve given it a lot of thought. It’s going to take an incredible amount of work and time to get off the ground, and I’ll start small at first, but I think the end result will be worth it. I want to make films that count for something.” A pause. “Now you go.” She exhaled, nervous as hell. Molly was the first person she’d let in on her idea, and her response mattered more than she was willing to admit even to herself.

A slow smile spread across Molly’s face. “I think it’s a great idea.”

“But.”

“That’s just it.” She leaned her chin on her palm. “There aren’t any buts. I think you should do it. You’re going to need capital. Have you looked into small business loans?”

Jordan stared at her in wonder. “You’re serious?”

Molly narrowed her gaze. “Are you?”

“It’s just that I was expecting something more along the traditional lines of ‘stop dreaming, kid.’ Or maybe the old standby, ‘have you considered medical school?’ That one’s my favorite.”

Molly’s face softened in sincerity. “I would never say those things to you.”

Jordan nodded because she was right; she wouldn’t. And the extra shot of encouragement was just what she needed. Suddenly, she was excited about her prospects all over again. “Thank you.”

“No problem. Now back to business. How do you plan to fund this venture of yours?”

Jordan bit her bottom lip. “I might have enough in savings to get us off the ground at first.”

“Get outta town.” Molly whistled low, which earned them both a disapproving glance from old Mrs. Robinson three tables over.

Jordan kept her voice low as she refocused her attention. “It’s not a ton, but like I said, studio work does have some perks, and the paycheck is most definitely one of them. They took care of my food and lodging whenever I was on location, so my bank account reaped the rewards.”

“You sure you want to give all that up? You could buy a lot of soccer balls with those dollar signs. Wouldn’t have to break into sheds anymore. Think of that.”

“Valid point, but I’m more than sure.” She stared past Molly in surprise. “Oh. I think our niece is constructing the Eiffel Tower out of ballerina books.” She tilted her head. “Who knew they had so many?”

Molly jumped up. “Yikes. On it. We’ll talk later. Oh, and, Jordan?”

She met her gaze. “Yeah?”

“You look good in glasses. Really.” The comment coupled with the weighted look in Molly’s eyes hit her right in the center of the chest like a line drive. And for one second, she let herself enjoy that twisty feeling she had in her stomach as she watched Molly walk away. Yeah, it was hard to breathe, but she’d work that part out later.

After that exchange, her mind dreamily wandered elsewhere and it was nearly impossible to concentrate on the work in front of her. She closed the book in happy defeat. Oh well, the productivity had been nice while it lasted.

Chapter Eleven

As far as odds went, date number three was destined for success. It had to be, right? At least that’s what Molly told herself as she approached the entrance to The Owl Tree. She’d grown smart enough over the course of the past few weeks to insist that her date travel into Applewood this time around. This would make her escape route that much shorter. But then again, with three times being a charm, she wouldn’t exactly need one now, would she? Good thing too, as Eden’s friend was running out of lesbians.

She had to admit she was feeling confident on this particular Friday. Maybe it was the excitement of the upcoming festival or her recent success with nailing down the recipe for MollyDollys. Whatever it was, she planned to use the extra swagger and was actually looking forward to whatever the night had in store. The optimism felt good.

On the sidewalk, she glanced down at her denim capris and black tank top. Sexy enough, without looking like she was trying too hard. Just the kind of message she was looking to send.

Before she could even make it inside the bar, she spotted a woman making her way up the sidewalk. This had to be her would-be date. She smiled as the woman approached and the woman smiled back. Short dark hair, slim cut jeans and a forest green top. Definitely attractive. One wouldn’t call her drop-dead gorgeous, but she had a warm smile that would snag your attention.

“Molly?”

She extended her hand. “That’s me. You must be Annaleigh.”

“I am. Nice to meet you. I was so excited to hear you lived in Applewood. I’ve always loved it here and look for any excuse to visit.” She blushed. “That sounded horrible. Not that you’re just an excuse, but—”

Molly held up a hand, laughing. “Not at all. I get it. Shall we head in? I’ll give you all the insider secrets.”

Annaleigh smiled. “I came to the right place.”

The vibe was already easygoing, and as Molly held the door open for her date, she didn’t even try to hide the smile she felt creeping through. The night had so many good possibilities.

The Owl Tree was hopping as the town came out in droves to celebrate the weekend. Music played from the jukebox in the corner and a group was gathered around the dartboard in the back. As they passed through the crowded space, Molly paused to say hello to, well, everyone, introducing Annaleigh to her friends and neighbors. Finally, they snagged a table to the right of the bar, just underneath Owlfred, the bar’s giant stuffed mascot. Molly gestured up. “Local flavor.”

“He’s quaint. Lots of character.”

“Right?” They smiled at each other for a moment. She could be wrong, but there might just be chemistry here. Time would tell.

Little Bobby brought over a pitcher of Miller Light and a couple of glasses. “Hey there, Molly. Molly’s friend.”

“Hiya, Little Bobby. How’d you know we were drinking beer tonight?”

He shrugged once. “S’my job to know these kinds of things.”

“Impressive,” Annaleigh said, raising her eyebrows.