Page 17 of Mistletoe Latte

“They say if you drink a mistletoe latte, the next person you kiss is your one true love.”

Emma gulped. “That sounds—”

“Like bullshit, because it is.” Nick stormed to his feet and yanked open the fridge. She expected him to grab another beer, but he started to rearrange the food while ranting.

“What about the Thompsons?” Skylar asked.

“Those fools were already dating before they ordered one. That doesn’t count.” He pulled the aluminum foil roll off of the top of the fridge and ripped a jagged edge off.

“Jerry and Teresa?” Skylar asked, her voice rising higher with each couple.

“They come in every day for coffee. It was bound to happen eventually.”

“Roger and Joe?”

Nick froze in mummifying the leftover meatloaf in rolls of foil. “Okay, that one was weird. But it was a coincidence. It’s one of those things where you make something happen, then act like it’s fate.”

“Self-fulfilling prophecy?” Emma asked. He pointed a finger to her and nodded vehemently.

“Fake. All of it. Just bullshit made up by people with nothing better to do. And why in the hell do you know about this? You were just a kid.” Nick stared at Skylar who hid behind her screen.

“Because,” she said, her voice wobbling. “People like to talk in town. They miss it, and people online are talking about it too.”

“Great. I can’t close the cafe until this rolls over.”

“They’re not gonna be happy until they get a mistletoe latte,” Skylar taunted.

“They should get used to disappointment.”

She sighed and slammed her phone down. “Why don’t you just make them again?”

“Don’t you start too.” Nick gritted his teeth and red sprouted over his forehead. “You know full well that…!” His rant faded, and he looked at Emma who was trying to stay out of the argument she didn’t understand. “I’m not gonna give in to peer pressure. And neither should you…for drugs and stuff.”

Skylar snorted and rolled her eyes, but she resumed her death scrolling rather than face her uncle. Nick took to rounding up the plates, his outburst calmed.

“Why don’t I help?” Emma offered, gathering up the silverware. She feared he’d argue her away, but Nick stepped to the side with a laugh, leaving her in charge of the sink.

“You, put the phone down, and get back to your homework.”

The teenager grumbled but did as told. Though she was careful to lay her phone to the side just in case she needed to check it again. Emma rolled her sleeves up and reached into the soapy water. After rinsing the knife under the faucet, she handed it to Nick who buffed it with a towel.

“Okay, do you know a secret for washing dishes faster?”

“Yes,” Emma said, nodding deeply. “Hire an intern.”

He laughed hard at that and a warmth spread across her chest. She held onto one end of a butter knife and Nick clung to the other. Neither let go, the flimsy metal warming from their combining body heat as he stared into her eyes.

“I’m glad you walked into my cafe today,” he said, his voice nearly growling from how low it dropped.

“Oh?” She swallowed deep, her heart pounding faster as she’d swear he moved closer to her.

“Cause otherwise I wouldn’t have…” Nick’s fingers caressed the tips of hers, and he blinked. His hand slipped back, and he took the knife from her. Vigorously rubbing the towel over it, he muttered to the side, “…managed to deal with the latte crowd without breaking a nose.”

“You.” Emma bowed her head, watching the soap bubbles pop across the surface. She was leaving in less than a day. His turning away shouldn’t hurt at all. “You’re welcome.”

By the time all the dishes were done, they found themselves in the sitting room. Skylar took up the armchair, her legs crossed and books scattered over them. It left Emma perched next to Nate on the couch with her second untouched glass of wine on the coffee table. They stuck to polite and distant conversation, the uncle trying to push his niece to study harder with questions about Emma’s time in college.

“I fear I’ll be paying off loans until I’m dead,” she said and added a laugh to punctuate the grim reality. The government would take her pennies for the ferryman if she skipped out early.

---