Page 8 of A Cowboy Christmas

“Well, no. We’re sinking.”

“So that means something has to give or change.” He folds his arms over his chest. I think this is his way of pouting. “Hear me out, okay?”

“All right,” he grunts, and I do a small victory dance in my head.

I know the diner isn’t mine, and George is a jerk face, but I don’t want to see it go under. No matter how much this town dislikes me. I think there’s something inside me that wants to prove to everyone they’re wrong about me. This might be one of those times my father was right. That I really am making up wild ideas in my mind.

Over the next hour, I go over a lot of the basics with how the programs work to help him see how to plug in numbers that can predict some losses and profits. There are menu items that could change that are costing more to make than they are being sold for. They need to be kicked from the menu or the price adjusted to reflect a profit.

"Well, that's all I have so far," I finally say, and George is quiet for a long moment. Did I push him too far? It might have been too much at once.

“Thank you, Sabrina,” he says, and I smile.

“It’s only a start, but?—”

“You’ve been back here one day, and I can already see a lot of the problems.”

“I’m really glad I could help.” I still need to check in with some distributors to make sure pricing is competitive. I believe George has been choosing options based on convenience or ease of use. He'll even grab stuff from the local grocery store, and those small items add up quickly.

“I didn’t expect this.”

“I’m not?—”

“Like your father,” he finishes for me. “You’re not.” George stands and picks up the list of menu item changes I made. “Why don’t you head on out? I’m going to talk to Joy about some of this.”

I jump up from my chair and do a small happy dance after George leaves the office. Then I wince, and my hand goes to my hip. I’d forgotten it was still sore. It’s better, but the bruise is wicked.

Then I catch the time and realize I need to get going. I’ve got to run home and change real quick and check on Grandpa. After that I can attempt to win Booker over. I'll land this job one way or another because I need it. I’m running out of time to find Grandpa and myself a new place to live.

I've been thinking maybe it’s time to leave Mittenville, but things might be turning for the better. It is the time of year when magic might be in the air...or maybe something more.

Chapter Six

Booker

“You expecting company?” Devin, my business partner, asks when he sees the headlights coming down the driveway.

“I told you earlier I was.”

“Oh, that’s right.” He’s being an asshole, and I glare at him.

He knows damn well that Sabrina is coming over to look at the barn. It’s why I told him to get lost. Sometimes he stays with me when there’s a new shipment of cattle and he needs to be onsite the whole time. But he’s got a place on the outskirts of town and tries to avoid Mittenville if possible. He prefers to be alone but seems to be sticking around just to annoy me.

“It would be rude of me to leave without introducing myself.”

“It will be hard for you to introduce yourself with a broken nose.” I raise a brow at him, and he holds his hands up.

“Fine, I won’t try to charm your girl. But I’ve got to see the woman that has you twisted in knots.”

“Mind your own business,” I grumble as I step off the porch and pull my Stetson down low. Devin follows behind me, and I want to yell at him to leave, but Sabrina is pulling up.

Her car is an older model and looks like something a grandma would drive, not a young woman. She parks the sedan next to my truck, and it’s comical how much smaller it is. Devin’s truck is behind me, and I turn and nod for him to take off.

His feet are firmly planted, and I clench my fist at my side.

“Hey there,” Sabrina says when she gets out of her car, and I look back to see her standing there.

She’s got on fitted jeans that show off her curves and boots that look worn in and soft. Her button-up flannel is snug against her body, and the buttons between her tits are straining. Her cheeks are rosy from the cold breeze, and I wonder if she’s got a coat. Maybe I could give her one of mine because the snow is beginning to come down.

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