Page 5 of Her Billionaire Stocking Stuffers

My tips! Maybe I can afford to stream a cheesy holiday movie with a handsome hero and plenty of swoon-worthy kissing to take my mind off losing Snowflake.

I lunge for my jeans and rummage through the stiff denim with one hand until I yank a wadded ball of bills with a core of coins from the pocket.

As soon as I toss it onto my bed, I realize something’s not right.

Instead of assorted change and a couple of singles like usual, there’s a no-longer-crisp hundred sitting on top. “What the heck?”

I set my paper cup on my garage-sale-find nightstand and reach out shaking fingers toward the money.

A little something extra for the holidays.

Cole! It had to have been him.

But that’s a whole lotta something.

Oh no, what if it was a mistake? When I grab the bill and realize there are several more just like it folded in half so they stick together, I freeze.

You might drop one in there thinking it was a ten, but five of them?

Good grief, they must love their coffees.

Or their business—whatever it is—had an exceptionally good year. I sometimes overhear their animated conversations about marketing plans, reinvestment, and growth strategies.

No idea what it means, but it sounds positive.

I unfold the stack, flattening the cash as best I can.

Running my fingers over it, I sigh knowing Cole touched the same spot earlier.

If they hadn’t already been my favorites, my regulars certainly sealed their place at the top forever after tonight. Not because of the money—my landlord is going to appreciate that more than me—but because they were so dang generous, helpful, and protective.

Snowflake might be the lucky one.

As I’m imagining her snuggling up on Pax’s pillow instead of mine, something else falls out of the tips.

A thick, gold-foiled business card.

On the front, red lettering spells out OnlySantas.com.

What the crap?

I flip it over.

Free Trial Code: SitOnOurLaps

I wonder who put that in the jar.

So many customers swarmed the counter during the peak shopping hours this evening, I couldn’t keep my eye on them all. Probably a practical joke.

Still, what else do I have to do that’s more entertaining than see what this is all about?

Free is free, after all.

Type in the address. Hit enter. Create an account to start a trial.

Promptly lose control of all the muscles in my face.

My mouth gapes open. My eyes bug out.

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