Page 21 of All You Need Is Macchiato

"I know they will." Her conviction is almost tangible. "Look at Old Joe. One farmers' market, and he's already asking for knitting lessons."

"Well, well." Cam's voice cuts through the moment. He's standing in his office doorway, eyeing our work with obvious disdain. "How... quaint. Though I suppose every corporate initiative needs its local flavor."

I feel Kathryn tense beside me. "Actually, the Wishing Wall has been incredibly successful in multiple locations."

"Mmm." Cam's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Just keep the riffraff to a minimum, dear. We are still a business."

He disappears back into his office, leaving an unpleasant silence in his wake.

"Charming as ever," I mutter.

"He's..." Kathryn sighs. "He just doesn't get it."

"And you do?"

She turns to face me fully. "You don't think I do?"

I choose my words carefully. "I think you believe in this. But Elk Ridge isn't Wilmington. People here, they've been burned before."

"By Cam?"

"By promises." I start arranging blank wish cards, needing something to do with my hands. "Community connections sound great, but what happens when corporate decides they're not profitable enough?"

"Is that what you're worried about?" She touches my arm, and I still. "That this is just another fleeting idea?"

"Isn't it?"

"No." The firmness in her voice makes me look up. "This isn't about profit margins or corporate initiatives. This is about creating space for hope. For connection. For people to help each other in ways they might never have thought possible."

She's close enough that I can see flecks of gold in her eyes, count the freckles across her nose. Her hand is still on my arm, warm through my sleeve.

"You really believe that."

"I do." She reaches past me for a wish card, her hair brushing my shoulder. "Because I've seen it work. I've seen people find friendship, support, even love through these wishes. And I’ll keep repeating myself until I get it through that thick skull of yours."

We both reach to straighten the stack of cards, our hands colliding. Neither of us pulls back immediately. Her fingers are soft against mine, and for a moment I forget about corporate initiatives and past disappointments.

"Nolan?" Her voice is barely a whisper.

"Hmm?"

"You're holding the cards upside down."

I look down to find she's right. We both laugh, breaking the tension, but something has shifted between us. Something that makes it hard to remember why I was so determined to keep my distance.

"I should go." I step back, immediately missing her warmth. "Lodge stuff to handle."

"Right." Is it my imagination, or does she sound disappointed? "Thanks for your help."

At the door, I turn back. She's already hanging the first wish card, stretching up on her toes to reach the perfect spot. The evening sun catches her hair, turning it to fire.

"Kathryn?"

She looks over her shoulder. "Yes?"

"I hope you're right. About the wall. About..." About everything I can't say out loud.

Her smile is soft. "Want to make a wish and find out?"

---