Page 10 of All You Need Is Macchiato

"I think they're a start." I take a breath. "And I think Nolan Callahan could help."

"Absolutely not."

"Why? Because he knows what works here? Because the lodge's events are successful?"

"Because he's difficult. Uncooperative. Stuck in the past."

I excuse myself, ostensibly to check on inventory. Annie's wiping down tables, humming softly.

"Tell me about the lodge events," I say casually.

Her face lights up. "Oh, they're amazing. Last month's harvest festival had the whole town out. Nolan coordinated everything—local vendors, music, activities for kids. He even got the high school art club involved with decorations."

"Sounds perfect for what we need."

"It was. Is." She glances toward the office. "Before... I mean, when Mr. Peterson owned the place, we used to partner with thelodge all the time. Nolan would help promote our events, we'd cater their gatherings. It worked."

I think about Nolan at the market, so different from the corporate-wary mountain man I first met. About how he knew every vendor by name, how naturally he fit into the community's fabric.

Back in the office, I face Cam again. "Our quarterly review is in two months. Corporate's watching this location closely."

"I'm aware."

"Then you're also aware we need to show significant improvement." I pull up the projections. "Community events could increase revenue by thirty percent. Minimum."

He stares at the numbers, jaw working.

"Fine." The word sounds like it physically pains him. "Talk to Callahan. But keep him out of my coffee shop."

"Your coffee shop?"

"You know what I mean." He turns to his computer, dismissing me. "Just keep him away from the counter. I don't need his opinions on our drink menu."

I leave the office, mind racing. What happened between them? Why would a franchise owner be so against working with someone who clearly knows this market?

Annie catches my eye as I pass. "Good luck," she mouths.

I'm going to need it. Because somehow I have to convince a man who thinks I'm everything wrong with corporate coffee to help save a place he used to love.

At least I know he looks good in flannel.

Wait. Where did that thought come from?

I shake my head, pushing through the door into the mountain morning. One impossible task at a time.

The steady thunk of an axe leads me around the side of Mountain Laurel Lodge. I find Nolan splitting wood, and for a moment, I forget why I came.

He's shed his usual flannel for a simple gray t-shirt, and the late morning sun catches on his shoulders as he works. The pile of split wood beside him suggests he's been at it for a while.

"Enjoying the show?"

I start, heat rushing to my cheeks as I realize I've been staring. Nolan's watching me with that half-smile that seems to live in the corner of his mouth.

"I was looking for you, actually." I step closer, trying to focus on my mission rather than how the mountain air has tousled his hair. "I have a proposition."

"A corporate proposition?" He splits another log with precise force.

"A community one." I wait until he looks at me. "The Coffee Loft needs help."

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