Page 22 of Mistletoe Latte

Without a thought, Emma pulled the chairs off the tables and placed them on the floor. Nick looked up a moment and nodded in thanks before he returned to tending to his equipment. Remembering what she’d put away last night, Emma returned the stacks of coffee accouterments to the counter. “This shaker could use a top off,” she said, lifting the powdered creamer.

She was already walking to the back storeroom when Nick bent down and hefted a large box onto the counter. “Don’t tell anyone I use the generic stuff,” he said.

“I won’t, I promise.”

The smile winding about his lips caused Emma’s heart and hand to jerk, scattering generic coffee creamer across the counter. She blushed, and he was about to clean it up when Nick’s grin knotted into a frown. Emma gathered the spilled powder with her hand to scoop it into a napkin, and she realized he wasn’t glaring at her. Past the darkened windows stood a line of people waiting for the proverbial rope drop. A pulsing vein rose from the side of Nick’s neck as he faced another day of mistletoe latte madness.

“Here ya go,” Skylar announced, slamming a container of grounds to the counter beside Nick. “Enough to get you through the early rush.”

Nick shook out of his dour turn to shout back, “We still need…”

“Can’t. I’ve got homework to do. Didn’t you say grades mattered most?” she called to him before vanishing into the back.

His grumbling made Emma smile in shared frustration. “I could run the grinder if you’d like.”

“Ah, no. It’s…it can bite. I’ll set it up.” Nick slipped away from the growing fans freezing outside and walked to the back door.

Uncertain, Emma gazed around the quiet cafe. “Where do you want me?” she asked, rolling up her sleeves.

Nick froze in the doorway. A passing car’s headlights lit his face a chalk-white before it rolled on. “I want you… You should sit there. Take it easy.”

“Sit here?” Emma wrapped her fingers around the stool. “But I can—”

“It’s not your mess to fix. You’ll be leaving soon.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but there was nothing she could say. Once the mechanic got the part, she would be hitting the road and never see him again. Nick turned away, methodically prepping for the day without talking to her. Not wanting to get in the way, Emma sat on the same stool as yesterday and texted her sister to let her know what was up. She didn’t expect a reply.

“Time to face the gates of hell,” he announced in a voice brimming with dread.

Putting on his customer service frown, Nick approached the front door, undid the lock, and shouted, “There’s no damn mistletoe latte today!” The groans began immediately from people who’d been standing in the cold for God knew how long. If they’d thought coming early would get them a coveted latte they were sadly mistaken. Nick let the door start to close and turned. His gaze landed on Emma. “But…there’s this holly mocha you can try instead.”

“Will I like it?”

“How the hell should I…? Yeah, you’ll love it.” He ushered them in with a wave of his hand. Most followed after, no doubt doing the math and realizing any warm drink was better than frostbite. “Get in line here,” Nick growled, jabbing a finger to the spot behind the cash register.

A woman in a beret hustled past the others who gawked and took pictures of the unfinished ceilings and walls. “Give me a—”

“Wait.” Nick held up a hand to stop her and leaned over the counter to look at Emma. “Cream and sugar?” he asked.

She blushed at the thought and nodded.

“Coming up. Okay, your turn.”

By the time he got through the first glut, a second round arrived who were just as annoyed about the lack of the mythical latte. The lines were backing out of the door as Nick raced from machines to registers. Emma was about to slip to the floor and help when Skylar joined him.

She did better with the customers than the grouchy owner, though Emma could swear she heard her tell them to ask for the mistletoe latte tomorrow. After her second cup of cream and sugar coffee, the tourists died down. A few regulars walked in, dressed in factory fatigues and barely opening their eyes. They grunted their orders and Nick handed the cups over before they finished.

It was nearing six-thirty and Emma had run out of ways to kill time. Feeling like a waste of space and time, she opened her purse and pulled out her ratty notebook. The cover was pink pleather with a unicorn sticker on the front. Inside were the mad ramblings of a some-time chef.

Cracking it open, Emma frowned at the last recipe she had for abeef cheek bourguignon and herbed ricotta. If she closed her eyes, her ears rang with the chef’s screams about the sponginess of the cheek. Emma turned the page, then another two more to a fresh blank sheet.

What should I work on? What about a Christmas pudding but as a trifle?

“I’m sorry, but we don’t have a mistletoe latte,” Skylar said sweetly before rolling her eyes.

He couldn’t actually put mistletoe in there, so what would he add? Hm, a coffee base over ladyfingers. No, a chocolate and coffee reduction for drizzling over fruitcake. Oh, that’s even worse.Emma scratched at the whole mess, but she wrote mistletoe and circled it. There was something to the idea if not the exact poisonous flavors.

“You know, there’s this one thing you should do before you leave.”

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