Giving up on getting clean, Emma scooped her phone away. She put in her passcode and opened the app. Nick remained, nervously clawing his scruff. “You got it all figured out?”
No. She was on a wait list. Every time it moved her up a spot, her phone beeped at her until she accepted that she wanted to stay on it. If she was a minute late, they’d send her to the back of the line. But it wasn’t his problem to solve. Putting on a smile, Emma pressed her phone tight to her chest. “Yep. It’s all good.”
“Good. That’s…” Nick stumbled back. He picked up the box he’d just put down and muttered. “It’s good.”
Her phone beeped again, and she secured her spot in the line. After washing her hands and loading up the lone tray, Emma emerged into the cafe to find the windows splattered with snow.
“Ooh, whatcha got this time?” Sam asked.
“Bear claws, and I wanted to try an eggnog eclair.”
“Gimme.” He snatched up the eclair and nearly had it to his lips before Nick coughed and pushed a button on the register.
After the drawer shot out, he said, “That’ll be four-fifty.”
Sam grumbled and slapped a five into his hand. “That’s highway robbery, that is.”
Emma dropped her eyes, too nervous to see what he thought, but if she really didn’t want to know she could have run into the back.
“Oh, oh goodness.”
Was that bad? Good?She’d used too much nutmeg. Not enough?
“How is it?” she asked. “Can you taste the rum?”
Sam placed his wizened hand on hers and patted it. “Round of applause for the bandits. This is the most eggnog-y thing I’ve ever had, and that includes the nog my sister makes that the revenue men don’t know about.”
Emma smiled brightly at the compliment as Sam took an even bigger bite than before. She glanced to Nick, who’d turned away to write ‘Eggnog Eclairs’ on the menu. He hadn’t shown any interest in trying her eclairs, donuts, or even the tarts. Save for one kiss, he didn’t seem interested in anything of hers.
All the drawings from Skylar were still up, the tree too. Though a single blue snowflake kept catching on a small breeze. The end flapped as the tape came undone. What if she pointed it out? Would he slap it down? Get a stool for her? Or lift her up into his arms again?
“What is this angel creating tomorrow?” Sam shouted for the whole cafe to hear.
Emma blinked rapidly and focused on the old man. “Ah, well… The thing is.”
“Nothing,” Nick said. He met only Sam’s eye but—as he turned to stare at the front door—Emma caught a flash of pain. No, she was imagining it. He obviously didn’t care if she came or went.
“Are you out of your mind? You don’t keep Sinatra from singing and you don’t stop this lady from baking.”
Oh, dear.Emma’s entire face burned red hot. It reached the tips of her ears, and she bent lower to hide it. But nothing, not even a nuclear meltdown of shame, could stop the old man.
“Look at this place. It ain’t ever looked this nice and you can thank her for it.”
Nick sighed and punched keys on the cash register just to spit out blank receipt paper. “Uh-huh.”
“Not even Rachel could have turned it around like this.”
Emma stared at the old man at the same time Nick jerked upright. He slammed his palms to the counter and dug in, the veins on his neck thickening. Instinctively, Emma took a half step back, when Sam said, “You’ve got everyone tiptoeing around like she’s dead. It ain’t right.”
Only the dulcet tones of an unaware Dean Martin filled the air. Nick glared at Sam like the two were facing off for high noon at the OK Corral. The tension was thicker than cream patisserie. Sam reached for a second eclair without taking his eyes off of Nick, while the coffee-slinger folded his arms.
A loud beep sent Emma leaping into the air. “Oh jeez!” She fumbled for her phone, nearly tossing it twice before getting a grip. They’d moved her up another spot in line. She was only one behind securing a room.
“If anyone needs me…” Nick yanked his apron off and tossed it to the counter. “I’ll be in the back.”
The burgeoning anger transformed to sorrow. His shoulders slumped, and he shoved one into the door to slip through the door. Emma gulped and looked at her phone. Her thumb had pressed the accept button when she’d clasped it to her chest. But that was a good thing. She should get out of there because the last thing she needed was working in another powder keg restaurant.
Right?
