The smell of rich chocolate fills the air. The shop reminds me of the inside of a chocolate box. It’s painted in dark brown, red, and gold. The walls are lined with hot cocoa mixes, foil-wrapped chocolates, and candies. On the far wall there’s a glass case full of freshly made truffles and things like chocolate-covered orange peel and chocolate-coated toffee. As soon as we walked in, my mouth started to water.

Jessie and I are seated at a small tasting table near the back of the store. There are a few marble-topped tables with café chairs, secluded from the rest of the shop where customers can sit and have chocolate and coffee in private.

Since Jessie and I are the only ones in the store, Gregory and Martina were more than happy to share the story of their soul mate connection.

“When Erma said to Gregory he’d find his love on the cocoa farm in Peru where he bought his beans, he flew down and spent six months in the village convincing me to marry him,” Martina says.

Martina and Gregory share a look and then she laughs and smacks him again with her towel.

“How did you convince Martina she was your soul mate?” asks Jessie.

“With chocolate, of course,” Gregory says.

Martina laughs and smiles her wide infectious grin and Gregory turns bright red.

“You’re fated, no? I can see it,” Martina says.

“No,” Jessie says.

“Yes,” I say at the same time.

Martina doesn’t hear either of us. She’s walked over to the truffles and ducked below the counter into the chocolate case. She’s pulled on white cotton gloves and has a delicate white china plate. Gregory brings over two cups of water and two long white scarves.

“We’re going to give you a demonstration of how chocolate and love are alike. You’ll be our guinea pigs for the new class we want to teach,” Gregory says.

Martina has lined six truffles on the plate, two each of three different varieties.

“You’re going to have a blind tasting,” explains Gregory. “Put on the blindfolds, feed each other the chocolates, and take turns saying what you taste. You can describe texture, flavor, memory, emotion, a sensation.”

I look over at Jessie and a bright pink blush travels across her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Gregory, but Will and I aren’t together,” Jessie says.

“Yet.” Gregory winks.

The bell at the front of the store rings, announcing a customer.

“We’ll be at the front. Enjoy,” Martina says. She and Gregory hurry to greet the customer. Gregory sneaks in another pinch and Martina smacks him with her towel. I wonder how many times in the past twenty-five years they’ve reenacted that pinch and whack.

Jessie clears her throat. “We don’t have to do this if—”

“Of course we do. You’re teaching me about true love and soul mates. It’s part of the lesson.”