“I still can’t believe you changed from Tex-Mex to brunch,” Amari said as they drove, scanning the laminated menu card Joy had handed her. “Not that it isn’t amazing, but it’s so different from what I’d have expected from you.”
Joy kept her eyes on the road, but a small smile played at her lips. “That’s kind of the point.”
“What do you mean?”
“Everyone sees me one way—the reckless tomboy. And I am that person.” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “But I’m also the woman who appreciates beautiful things. Who wants to create an experience that feels special.”
Amari studied her friend’s profile. “I like that. That you’re showing a different side of yourself.”
“Bear gets it,” Joy said softly. “He saw the truck and immediately understood what I was trying to do.”
“Of course he did.” Amari grinned. “That man sees all of you, always has.”
They arrived at the festival grounds with just enough time to park in their designated spot and begin final preparations. The scale of the event was immediately intimidating—at least thirty food trucks were already set up, their owners bustling with the practiced efficiency of veterans. Colorful banners hung overhead, and a small stage had been constructed at the far end of the lot for live music.
Joy’s hands trembled slightly as she switched on the equipment. What had seemed doable back in Oak Creek now felt like an impossible challenge.
“Hey,” Amari said, noticing her hesitation. “We’ve got this.”
The first hurdle came minutes after they opened. The line formed immediately—far faster than Joy had anticipated—and she quickly realized their workflow needed adjustment. Amari was struggling to keep up with taking orders while Joy frantically plated food.
Then the espresso machine started making an ominous grinding noise.
“No, no, no,” Joy muttered, abandoning the breakfast sandwich she was assembling to check the machine. A quick inspection revealed a pressure issue—fixable, but not while maintaining their current pace.
“We need to pause new orders for ten minutes,” she told Amari, who was looking increasingly frazzled as the line continued to grow.
“Is everything okay?” a woman at the front of the line asked, concern evident in her expression.
“Just a small technical issue,” Joy explained, forcing a smile. “We’ll be back up in ten minutes.”
Some people left the line with barely concealed irritation. Joy felt her confidence wavering as she worked on the machine. This was exactly what she’d feared—not being prepared enough, letting people down, making a bad first impression.
“Almost done?” Amari asked, casting an anxious glance at the dwindling but still substantial line.
“Almost,” Joy confirmed, tightening the final valve, so thankful Bear had gone over the mechanical basics with her. When she started the machine again, it hummed perfectly. One crisis averted.
They reopened to a smaller but still impressive line. The next hour passed in controlled chaos, with Joy and Amari finding their rhythm. The initial hiccups faded as they settled into a workable system.
Until they ran out of strawberries.
“That’s all of them,” Amari announced, holding up an empty container. “And we’ve got at least fifteen orders that need them.”
Joy’s stomach dropped. The strawberry tartlets and strawberry-topped waffles were two of their most popular items. Running out now, barely halfway through the event, was a disaster.
“We’ll have to substitute,” she decided, already mentally reformulating the dishes. “Blueberries for the tartlets, mixed berry compote for the waffles.”
They managed the substitution with only minor delays, but Joy could feel the pressure building behind her eyes. This wasn’t how she’d imagined her debut. In her vision, everything ran smoothly, people were impressed, and she felt confident in her creation. Instead, she was scrambling, improvising, barely keeping ahead of the next potential disaster.
During a brief lull, Joy stepped outside for a moment, needing just thirty seconds of fresh air. The festival was in full swing now, crowds flowing between the trucks, music playing from the stage. Everyone seemed to be having a good time—everyone except her.
“This is a disaster,” she murmured to herself.
“Funny,” a familiar voice said behind her. “From where I’m standing, it looks like a success.”
Joy whirled around to find Bear leaning against the side of her truck, arms crossed over his chest, a small smile playing at his lips.
“Bear? What are you— How did you?—”
