CHAPTER ELEVEN
EVEN AFTER A second night on the couch, Nick felt more refreshed than he had in weeks. If he wasn’t tone-deaf, he’d have whistled a happy tune while scooping the scattered coffee beans into the trash. At least most of the bag was salvageable. He left the girls in charge of the front while he cleaned up the mess. The bad thing about beans was their tendency to roll. A pile of them had made it clear under the shelves, which he fished out until the broom struck cardboard.
That damn box. Dropping to his knees, he hefted the shelf up and slid out the box. It’d once been white but dust had turned it a muddled gray. Strange, he couldn’t remember it at all. Nick tried to lift off the top, but it stayed stuck. Even shaking the box didn’t free it. He hooked a finger into the gap and started to wedge the lid away.
“Oh, Uncle Nick!”
That wasn’t good. Skylar only used that sing-song voice when she was facing a suspension or worse.
Leaving the box on the floor, Nick stood up and called, “What?”
“Your adoring public is waiting for you.”
“My…?” He wiped the crushed coffee grounds off of his hands while walking through the door and nearly stumbled back. Bright lights blazed from every inch of the cafe. It took him a second to realize that was because someone had replaced the bulb in the dark corner he kept meaning to get to for…a year. An uptempo jazz version of Sleigh Ride was under the sound of gushing steam and happy customer chatter. He looked to the source of the change and found Emma with one hand on the counter. The rest of her body was strained as she placed a piece of pink chalk to the menu board.
She’d erased his threat to not ask for the mistletoe latte and changed it to ‘Please ask about the holly latte and the praline mocha.’ Her lettering was gentle and looped in a cute cursive. She ended her addition with a simple drawing of a cup of coffee and a sprig of holly.
When Emma dropped back to her feet, her ponytail swung in a circle. Cheerfully, she greeted the next customer while Nick stared in awe. Even at five in the morning, Emma was a million bucks in a form-fitting red sweater. She belonged in an upscale coffee shop while he looked like a trapper that wandered in out of the Yukon.
At least he put on deodorant.I did, right?Before Nick could even do a half-sniff, Emma finished with her customer and turned right to him. The way her eyes gleamed under the full lights pulled him back to the night before. They’d wound up on the couch again, Skylar stomping up to her room to complain about the jacket he said she’d have to wear over her dress. Sitting right next to him, Emma’s eyes had sparkled and her lips all but begged for a kiss.
“What are you doing?” Skylar practically shouted. Nick didn’t leap, but he clasped a palm over his ear to still the ringing. “He’s over here.”
“Who is?” Nick knew he asked the wrong question the second he spotted the stylish coat and scarf combo.
“Good morning, Mr. Iverson. I’m with Foodie Gems. We’re a growing podcast of—”
“No, thank you.”
The instant dismissal threw the man. His eyes widened like one of those old cat clocks, the pupils darting back and forth from Nick to Skylar. “We’re a media empire devoted to…”
“Don’t care. If you’re here about the mistletoe latte…” He paused, watching the man nod expectantly and reach for his phone. “We don’t have any. Either order the things on the board or get out.” Nick waved to the menu, forced on a gritted smile, and walked away.
“But your niece—” the man exclaimed.
“Is not in charge. No matter what she says. Order or get out.”
The podcaster gulped, all the color draining from his monologue. “Ah, yes, the praline mocha sounds most interesting.”
Nick left him in Emma’s care and caught said niece typing on her phone. “Why did you do that?”
“Help you get free advertising? Can’t imagine why I’d think that would be helpful.” She rolled her eyes and returned to her screen. He wanted to yank the damn thing away.
“All this mistletoe mess was finally slowing down.”
“About that.” Skylar swung her phone around to reveal a new article from that same Miss B. Nick skimmed quickly, his heart dropping with each word. Whoever it was leaned heavily into the damn legend, even interviewing people who claimed to have found their one true love after drinking his cursed brew.
“Wait. If she’s talking to the locals, does that mean she’s here?”
“There’s this thing called the internet. People use it to communicate instead of the tin cans on strings from your day.”
Nick glared at his niece trying to be cute. He noted Miss B’s promise to suss out the ingredients in the mistletoe latte.Over my dead body.This woman was going to give him an aneurysm.
The bell jangled and he frowned deeper. Assuming the customers didn’t give him a heart attack first. “Great. It’s the snob,” he muttered to himself. The kid that had peppered him with questions and demanded he not burn the coffee beans strode in. Nick was happy to leave him to Emma’s tender touch when he noticed Skylar’s texting had stopped. She turned redder than a baboon’s ass while staring at…
“No. Oh, hell no.”
“What?” Skylar squeaked. The snob glanced over at the sound, and she yelped, hiding behind her phone. Nick fumed harder.
