Page 41 of Steeped In Problems

“Is this the famous Clear Mountain outpost?” Joe bellowed, scanning the room. “Looks better than the pictures. Hey, kiddo.” He winked at Kristy, who grinned in spite of herself.

Emily was already circling, tablet in hand, laser-focusing on every detail. She made notes, snapped pictures, and muttered to herself as she paced out the new floor plan.

“Morning, Joe,” Tanner greeted.

Joe shook his hand, then Kristy’s, with a grip that could juice an orange. “You the reason this place still has a pulse?” he asked Kristy.

She blushed. “I just keep the coffee flowing.”

“That’s what keeps the world going,” Joe corrected.

Emily finished her inspection and then turned to Kristy and Tanner. “This is excellent,” she told him, voice clipped but almost complimentary. “You implemented all of the suggestions. The reading corner is especially strong.”

She clicked a pen, marking something on her list. “We’ll want to adjust a little. These tables should angle toward the counter for faster service. And the new lighting gives the space a premium feel. Well done.”

Kristy caught Tanner’s subtle flinch at the word “premium,” but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he just sipped his coffee, eyes set on the door like he was prepping for a tactical breach.

Joe ambled around, tipping his hat to the space and looking at the Hero Wall. He traced his fingers over the frames, then glanced at Tanner. “You’ve done good by your people. Don’t forget that, no matter what the numbers say.”

Tanner didn’t answer, but his chin lifted a degree.

Emily pointed her pen at Kristy. “You’re running point on the auction and dance tomorrow?”

Kristy nodded, suddenly nervous under the intense scrutiny.

“Good,” Emily nodded. “The schedule’s tight. If you need support, grab me. Otherwise, make sure the transition from auction to dance is seamless. We want everyone to walk out of the event with a reason to visit the Brave Badge after.”

Joe interrupted with a laugh. “Let the girl breathe, Emily. She’s got this.”

Emily actually paused. “Sorry,” she murmured, not really sounding sorry. “I get intense.”

“That’s why I hired you,” Joe told her with a pat on the back. “You’re the perfect bulldog. Once you get a hold of something, you don’t let go.”

The door opened again as Rhonda entered, hair spiked in all different directions and arms full of bakery boxes. Within minutes, the shop was bustling with activity—Rhonda and Kristyprepping trays, Emily checking every logistical box twice, and Joe sharing war stories with Tanner by the coffee bar. Kristy felt the nervous energy buzzing in her fingers, but underneath it was something new—a sense of belonging, of being part of a team that might just pull off the impossible.

As the sun crept higher and the first regulars drifted in, Kristy took her position behind the counter. She felt Tanner watching her from across the room, and when she looked over, he didn’t look away. He just nodded, almost imperceptible, and she smiled.

The day sped by fast, Kristy taking any dips in customer traffic to make last-minute calls for the fundraiser. By the time they were closing up the shop, she was certain they would be ready.

Joe clapped his hands and called out, “All right, troops. Let’s go see what you put together for the big event. We’ve got a barn to string up, a dance floor to prep, and a crowd to wow.”

Kristy looked at Tanner, excitement fizzing in her chest. “You ready for this?”

He grunted. “I’ll survive.”

Joe took the lead with Tanner by his side, surveying the street as if he’d single-handedly tamed the entire town. Emily was lost in her phone, thumbs moving at a speed that would have impressed a teenage girl. She didn’t look up as she walked, only pausing to snap a photo of the shop’s new window decal. Kristy trailed after with Rhonda, content to bring up the rear as they climbed into Joe’s black SUV.

Even from a half mile away, she could see the rental trucks parked out front of the barn at the edge of town. Volunteers moved in and out, and someone was already putting together a photo-op area at the entrance. Inside, an army of moms from the PTA was arguing about tablecloth color, while a knot of highschool kids balanced on a ladder stringing LED lights from the rafters.

Kristy’s brain instantly shifted into ER triage mode. She weaved through the chaos, clipboard in hand, a force of nature in her yellow jacket and scuffed sneakers. “You, careful with those cords—last thing we need is an electrical fire,” she called. “Can someone check the outhouses? Make sure there’s toilet paper and not, you know, raccoons?” She spun around and found the first mom in her line of sight. “Where’s the auction stuff? Is all of it ready, or do we need to prep it?”

The woman blinked, then pointed toward the back. “There’s a whole table of baskets ready to go—some of them are still shrink-wrapped, though.”

“I’ll find someone to handle it,” Kristy promised, already moving on.

She found the coffee and dessert table in the far corner, Rhonda and two helpers unloading box after box of supplies. “That’s a lot of Brave Badge Blend,” Kristy said, peering at the sheer mass of coffee beans.

Rhonda beamed. “If people don’t buy it, I’ll drink it all myself and go down happy.”

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