Carrie knew all of this because for two years she too had stumbled out of bed at the crack of dawn to dip and dust truffles. That was when she had been Zoe's partner in the business—a business they had started together and worked on happily, until one day Carrie felt the walls start to close in. She'd begged Zoe to please understand that she still loved her but there had to be more meaning to life than candy. Zoe had argued that they were on the verge of landing their first big account with a chain of trendy Manhattan grocery stores, which they had both busted their buns for, and Carrie would be ripping herself off if she sold out. Carrie couldn't explain why she had to dump the business which had been her idea in the first place. She just knew if she had to wrap one more truffle in one more piece of gold tissue she was going to start throwing pots of chocolate around Zoe's apartment. She'd left the business, and six weeks later, Zoe, as sole owner, had landed the coveted account. Now Zoe could afford to hire people to help with the wrapping, although she was still doing the dipping and the dusting herself. And soon she'd be reclaiming her living space because she'd be renting a professional kitchen in Brooklyn.

As Zoe swirled the first of the truffles in the coating, the hot chocolate released a whisper of a scent from the frozen ganache. Carrie sniffed the air. “Basil?” she asked.

Intent on her candy, Zoe didn't look up. “It's still the most popular flavor,” she said. “Bean and Brown can't keep it in stock.” She placed the coated truffles on a piece of parchment paper and prepared to start rolling them in the cocoa.

“Hang on,” Carrie said. She opened the cabinet under the sink where the hairnets and gloves were kept, and suited up. “It'll go faster if we work together.”

Zoe threw her a funny look, but mercifully she didn't say anything. They worked side by side in silence, falling into the familiar rhythm they'd established over so many mornings, until five cookie sheets covered with finished truffles were back in the fridge. “You still have the feel for it,” Zoe said as they stripped off their rubber gloves. “You know how many people I've hired and fired over the last four months because they didn't have the touch?” She hesitated, then said, “You know … if you wanted to, Carrie … you could buy back in.”