Page 64 of Coffee Break with the Billionaire

Pulling Stella over, I tuck my arm in hers and lead her into the bar. “Do you do shots?” I ask conversationally.

“I’ve been known to,” she says carefully.

“Well, that’s something we have in common, because so do I. Hello,” I say to the bartender, who greets us with a frown, that quickly changes to shock and awe when he notices King Magnus behind me.

“Your Majesty—” he breathes, looking old enough to have been around for the previous king.

I wiggle my finger in his face. “You’re talking to me first, so focus. I need shots for all—a round of Jäegarbombs.” I stand on my tiptoes to see over the bartender’s shoulder. “Maybe not, because I’m not seeing it there. Irish whiskey?”

“We’re not drinking Irish whiskey,” Magnus roars. “We’ll drink my mead.”

“Shots first,” Gunnar tells him, crowding beside Stella.

“Fireballs?” I suggest. “Do you mind if I come back there to take care of this?” I ask the bartender. I think we might have overwhelmed him, because he can only nod, eyes full of amazement darting from one royal to another.

“Don’t you ever come in here?” I ask Gunnar as I slide around to the other side of the bar.

“We go to Kalle’s. He gets pouty if we don’t.”

“Is this okay, Wade?” Kalle asks the bartender.

“Sure, fine, be my guest,” he mutters.

“Hello, Wade, I’m Fenella.” I smile brightly as he stands with a stunned expression off to the side. “Give me a minute and I’ll show you how to make a tasty treat, even if His Majesty has something about the Irish. And while I’m doing that, can you tell me who Geri and Freki are, and if they’re here tonight? Since your fine establishment is named after them, I think it would be nice if we met.”

I pour a round of Irish Car Bombs for everyone, and then a pitcher of honey mead. I discover that Geri and Freki, are not people, but the original King Odin’s—he of Asgard, not Laandia—pet wolves.

This leads to a discussion as we continue on to the next bar—which is called Midgard—if Silas’s club should have a Viking name.

At Midgard, Kalle and Stella—who warmed up after the Irish whiskey shot and went head-to-head with Gunnar in chugging a beer—push me behind the bar again. Since this ismore of an upbeat place that caters to the younger crowd, they have a better-stocked liquor supply and I make candy corn shots to celebrate Halloween early.

“What do you think Silas should call it?” I ask Stella after we come back from the dance floor. It was a small, uneven space, and it was just the two of us dancing to Taylor Swift’s country era, but I felt it was important to experience everything the bar had to offer.

“Why don’t you ask him?” She grins.

I cock my head. “Do you know, I don’t even have his number? This place is so small that it’s no trouble to track him down. Gunnar has my phone,” I add. “I need to make sure I get that back before you leave.”

“You don’t need Silas’s number to talk to him.” Stella puts a hand on my shoulder to stop me, then turns me toward the doorway.

Silas is walking into the bar.

Right now. Into Midgard, where I have drunk half a pink to the king's delicious honey mead and two candy corn shots and am now trying to dance everything out of my system.

He's here.

“He’s here?” I gasp, clapping my hands. “Is he real or did that candy corn shot make things wonky?”

“I called Sophie, so they’re both here, but yeah—I do feel a little wonky.” But Stella still drags me over to where Silas and Sophie are greeting the king.

“Congratulations on hiring this force of nature,” Magnus is telling Silas as I desert Stella and skip over to them.

“Hi,” I say, unable to tone down the smile on my face. Silas has changed his shirt from the one he was wearing earlier today to a long-sleeved gray shirt that hugs parts of him that I would love to hug. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Silas turns away from the king of Laandia to smile down at me—which would be tantamount to treason in some countries but makes me feel really good.

“Hi,” I repeat, my smile only getting wider.

“What’s with all the ‘hi’s,” Kalle grumbles, but he crowds Silas out to speak to his father.

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