Page 23 of Caffeinated in Amesbury
"January's usually dead around here," Thomas interjected. "That could work."
"Street banners, local radio spots, and I'm thinking an Instagram live Q&A with each of you to drum up excitement. People love seeing who's behind the counter," I proposed, my thoughts spinning faster than the ceiling fan above.
"An interview?" Cole chuckled. "I hope you're ready for my five minutes of fame."
"Only if you can share the spotlight with your brother here," I teased, winking at Thomas, who rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the budding enthusiasm.
"Sounds like we've got ourselves a plan," Thomas conceded, unfolding his arms to lean in and examine the detailed schedule now filling the pages of my planner.
"More than a plan," I said, the corners of my mouth lifting in a triumphant smile. "A holiday campaign to breathe life back into Caffeinated Bliss."
"Here's to hoping it's more miracle on Main Street than nightmare before Christmas," Cole quipped, but the twinkle in his eye matched my own shimmering optimism.
"Trust me," I replied, voice filled with the magic of the season and the certainty of success, "it's going to be legendary."
The glow of the laptop screen illuminated my determined face as I perched on a stool at Caffeinated Bliss, fingers flying over the keys. Outside, snowflakes danced like confetti in celebration of my plan, but inside, the warmth of possibility kept the winter chill at bay. My long auburn hair cascaded over my shoulders, creating a vibrant contrast against the backdrop of mahogany bookshelves laden with festive decorations.
"Okay, let's see who owes me a favor..." I murmured to myself, tapping into my extensive network of authors and publishers. I shot off emails like arrows, aiming for commitments to the literary events that would save the beloved cafe. Each sent message was accompanied by a silent prayer, blue eyes reflecting hope with every click of 'send.'
"Got a big fish?" Thomas asked, leaning against the counter with a cup of steaming coffee, his green eyes curious.
"Trying to reel one in now," I replied, lips curving upward as I hit send on another email. "If I can get Jackson Avery here for a reading, folks will line up around the block."
"Jackson Avery?" Cole whistled through his teeth, his hazel eyes alight with excitement. "The mystery writer who makes Stephen King look like Dr. Seuss?"
"Uh-huh," I grinned. "And he owes me one for saving his last manuscript from being a complete disaster."
"Speaking of disasters," Thomas interjected, gesturing to the café around us, "how are we going to transform this place?"
"Leave it to me," I stood, closing my laptop with a decisive snap. "This is where the magic happens."
Together, we surveyed the café. The scent of pine and cinnamon wafted through the air, mingling with the rich aroma of coffee. I envisioned garlands of holly draped across the bookshelves, twinkling fairy lights casting a soft glow over the tables, and a grand Christmas tree standing sentinel by the window.
"First things first," I said, pointing to a corner by the fireplace. "We'll need a cozy nook for the readings—pillows, blankets, maybe even a makeshift stage."
"Sounds cozy," Cole agreed, already dragging over a plush armchair. "I can build a platform, something simple."
"Simple but sturdy," I added, watching Cole size up the area. "We don't want an author taking a tumble mid-sentence."
"Can you imagine?" Cole laughed. "That's one way to make an event memorable."
"Let's stick to memorable for the right reasons," Thomas said, pulling out a toolbox. "What else?"
"Window art," I decided, my mind painting the scene. "Snowflakes, maybe quotes from famous winter tales. It'll catch the eye of anyone passing by."
"Quotes?" Cole raised an eyebrow. "You mean like, 'Baby, it's cold outside'?"
"More like Dickens or Frost," I corrected, playfully rolling my eyes.
"Done." Thomas nodded. "I'll sketch some designs tonight."
"Perfect," I beamed. "And we'll need a display for the books—front and center so they can't be missed."
"Got it," Cole chimed in. "A table with red and green cloth, some decorative stands, and a sign: 'Autographed Copies Available!'"
"Exactly," I confirmed, heart swelling with pride at our collaboration. "With a little elbow grease and a lot of holiday spirit, Caffeinated Bliss will become the literary winter wonderland of our dreams."
As we set to work, I marveled at how seamlessly our ideas intertwined, like strands of tinsel twining around a Christmas tree. With each decoration hung and each plan made, the bare walls of the cafe transformed into pages of a story yet to be told—a story of community, hope, and the enchanting power of a small town Christmas.
