“Mom,” Carina warned.
“Just kidding.” Emmy chuckled as she made her way down an aisle consisting mostly of décor items—baskets, metal signs, small lamps, and miscellaneous bric-a-brac—to the café area. There was a self-serve coffee and hot chocolate station on a long counter, along with snacks, all available for a voluntary donation. Near the station were several shelves of classic books, along with a few vintage volumes. Last year Emmy had set up the small book section, and she had started taking orders for both old and new books a few months ago. She set her things on one of the four round, blond oak wooden tables and fixed herself a cup of cinnamon hot chocolate.
As she toggled the hot water carafe and placed her cup under thespout, an unexpected memory surfaced. Or rather, a person—her ex-boyfriend, Josh Whitfield. When they had started working together to bring Mistletoe Antiques to fruition, he had been against the idea of providing refreshments on the honor system, insisting no one would put money in the kitty for plain coffee and a cookie or pastry.
“Maybe not in the big city of St. Louis,” Emmy had said, getting in a friendly dig at his hometown. “But things are different in Mistletoe.” She brushed his carrot-colored bangs to the side and put her arms around his neck. “Trust me,” she whispered. “Everyone will pay their fair share.”
He drew her close. “We’re really going to do this, aren’t we?”
“Yes.” She started to smile but saw a flash of doubt in his sea-blue eyes. Their grand opening was the next day, and even though they were still bringing in antiques to sell, she was certain they had enough inventory to open their doors. But this was her dream, not his, even though he’d supported it 100 percent... or at least he seemed to. “It’s what you want, right?”
“Right,” he said. Maybe a bit too quickly. Then he kissed her, and for several lingering moments of bliss, she forgot where she was.
And that had been her weakness—whenever she saw a red flag with Josh, he’d seemed to know what she was thinking. He would distract her with loving words, searing kisses, and promises of their future together. But none of it was true. Two weeks after the shop opened, he’d skipped town with most of her money and all of her dignity.
Hot water stung her hand and dragged her out of her reverie. She quickly let go of the toggle. The cup had overflowed, and she cleaned up the mess, salvaged what she could of her hot chocolate, and sat down at the table. Better to think about accounting than her catastrophic love life.
For the next hour she sipped hot chocolate, crunched numbers,and balanced her ledger. Due to hard work and careful spending, she’d recouped some of what Josh had taken from her, but there wasn’t much room for margin. Most months there wasn’t any margin at all.
She finished calculating the last of the receipts when her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen and saw Sheryl Covington’s name pop up. Emmy quickly answered it. “Hey,” she said to her childhood friend and part-time employee, although Sheryl worked more for her love of antiques and people than for money. Her husband, Ben, made a comfortable living as an architect. “How’s Cancún?”
“Tropical paradise. Not a snowflake in sight.”
Emmy couldn’t imagine Christmas without snow. “No mistletoe either?”
“Oh, there’s plenty of that, along with Christmas lights on palm trees. They even have little green and red umbrellas in the fruity drinks. Very festive. I can’t believe today is our last day. We’ve had an amazing vacation.”
“Uh-huh.” Emmy glanced at her pitiful bottom line. She wouldn’t be taking a vacation anytime soon.
“Uh-oh,” Sheryl said.
“Uh-oh, what?”
“You’re balancing the books, aren’t you? I still think you should take Josh to court for stealing your money.”
Emmy scowled. Not this again. “If I did, I’d have to admit to the world I have awful taste in men.”
“No, you’re just too kindhearted. And Josh is a grade A jerk.”
“It’s not so bad. I’ll earn everything back... in five or six years.”
“But—”
“I’ll be fine, Sheryl. Don’t worry about me or the shop.”
“You’re my best friend,” she said, speaking over her rowdy kids in the background. “I can’t help but worry. But I do love your positive attitude.”
Emmy smiled at the compliment. She was an eternal optimist, and that had helped her through some rough times, including Josh’s deception and desertion.
“Boys,” Sheryl said sternly to her children. “Settle down, or we’re going back to the hotel room.” After they quickly quieted, she said, “Can you do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“I’ve been trying to get ahold of the rental place so I can reserve tables and chairs. We keep missing each other. Do you mind taking care of that?”
“Not at all.”
“Thank you.” Sheryl’s voice was heavy with relief. “That’s one thing off my list, but I’m sure I’ll add ten others later. It’s going to be a challenge keeping Mom’s surprise party a secret from her for two weeks. I still can’t believe she’s turning seventy.”
