“Daryl’s?” he asked. Emma nodded. “Good place. Reliable. Course it’s also the only place in town.”
“He said he’d call once he found the problem, but…” She lifted her phone to find no missed calls and the battery at twenty-five percent. The charger was in her purse, but the single noticeable outlet was mobbed by the mistletoe gang. “At least I’m somewhere warm,” Emma said, shaking off the worry.
“Wouldn’t want to break down out on the highway. Not in this weather,” Sam said what she’d been fearing. Though, if whatever was wrong with her car wasn’t easily fixed, then what?
“Dispatch, this is Officer Collins…” the police scanner piped up. Sam wiggled his gaunt shoulders and hunched closer.
Another section of the cafe cleared out, leaving their mugs of varying sizes precariously stacked. Emma glanced to the owner, only to find him white-knuckling a pencil as he wrote down a customer’s order. If that tower fell, he was liable to blow. She dashed to her feet and caught the mug just as it began to tip. A spoon rattled inside, almost flopping to the floor.
“Suspicious character appears to be an inflatable Santa Claus stuck to a fence.”
Emma spread the dishes out on the table so none would break. Nick could get to them later once he had time. It seemed the best answer when the coffee shop’s door opened and fifty people rushed in. They fanned out after the choke point, filling the cafe. Their chattering covered over the police scanner. Sam tried to turn it up, but nothing could compete with the excitement of the mistletoe latte.
“Are there any tables?”
“Get us somewhere to sit.”
“This lighting is atrocious.”
The horde split off into ant trails, lines winding through the place and trying to take every available seat. More grabbed the benches by the wall. One even found an old stepladder and pulled that up to the counter.
“What about this?” A woman hooked her hand around the table and tugged, causing the cups to rattle. Emma reached over to keep it in place and got a withering glare. “What are you doing?”
“I…” She gulped and spotted the abandoned wash basin from earlier. “I haven’t finished clearing this.” With a quick skip, Emma picked up the tub and loaded the plates and mugs into it. The whole time the woman glared as if she was wasting her time.
“Have a good day,” Emma said as she stepped away with the washing.
“What are you doing?”
Her heart dropped at the voice not being directed at the people moving the furniture. The confused wrath was aimed directly at her. Nick uncrossed his arms and poked a pencil to the tub growing heavier with each second.
“You seemed so busy, I didn’t want these to fall. Or break. Can I put them somewhere? A sink in the back?”
He reached to take the tub when the customers surged for the counter. A coffee tin collecting donations for the local toy drive hit the floor, sending pennies and dimes scattering across the tile. “You’ve got to be…” Nick flexed his hand, snapping the pencil in half. “Everyone, take a step back!” he ordered with such authority even Emma obeyed.
Sneering, he stopped the rolling can with his foot. Bent over, he started to shovel the lost coins in, but he kept speaking to her. “Through that door, first left.”
Emma nodded that she understood and quick-stepped for the employee-only door. Another teeth-grating squeal rose through the air.
“If you don’t cease moving those benches, I’ll nail you to them!” Nick shouted, silencing the whine.
Before it got worse, Emma hustled through the door. She expected the back area to be nothing more than plain drywall and dirty tile, but it looked the same as the front. To the left, she reminded herself, pushing on a second door. It smacked into a tipped-over shelf tossing more boxes of paper goods across the floor.
“You, sugar and cream!”
She jerked to find Nick standing at the door into the cafe, his arms crossed. “I’m sorry,” Emma called, “there was a shelf in the way.”
“That’s what she knocked over,” Nick grumbled in a bass that managed to crawl along the floor.
On the far wall, Emma spotted a stainless steel sink with an overhead sprayer. A handful of mugs rested on the drying pegs above, but just as many had accumulated in the bins on the side. Emma dropped the dirty dishes in the sink and hunted for soap.
“Don’t worry about that,” Nick said, causing her to pause before turning on the water. “Skylar’s a wrecking ball in a teenage body.”
He meant the shelf. Emma smiled as she filled the sink with suds and sprayed down the mugs. The heat of the water burned against the chill of her hands, but the sensation made her smile. Even when the chef was shouting her stupid, she could always find solace in dish duty.
“What I wanted to know is…” The door swung open, struck the fallen shelf, and rebounded into Nick. “Sonnofa!” he cursed, his pale skin bright red down the middle of his forehead. He rubbed the wound while hauling up the fallen shelf and shoving the napkin boxes to the side.
Popping back up, he watched Emma hand scrub mugs and place them safely on the drying pegs. He smiled at her and she almost missed the peg. Blushing bright, Emma turned to face him as he asked, “Can I hire you?”
