Since Halloween, we’ve only left the bedroom to work at the café, order food, shower, and prep for my pitch meeting with the grant committee. And three out of four of those tasks are easily accomplished naked, so when it comes down to it, no. We haven’t really left the bedroom much at all.
Goddess, he’s just so amazing. The way he touches me, the things he does with his mouth, the words he whispers in my ear…
My thighs clench at the memories. Conditioned response at this point.
Sometimes, when he’s looking at me like he is now—the eyes, the raised brow, the barely perceptible smirk that tells me he’s got some filthy, sexy comment perched on the tip of his tongue—I wonder what it would be like if he stayed. If our time together didn’t have that pesky expiration date.
But there’s no more room in my life for impossible dreams. So for now, I’ll take Aunt Joslyn’s advice and enjoy every moment, for however long it lasts.
And also have some really,reallyhot freaking sex.
“Speak of the Devil.” Emmie grins at me. Then, “Oh, I almost forgot!” She reaches into her bra and pulls out three crystals. “Citrine, green aventurine, and pyrite. For abundance and opportunity, and a little luck too.” She shoves them into my bra, still warm, then says confidently, “You’vegotthis, Vi. You’re going to do great. And don’t worry about K&C. I’ve got everything in order here, and Darla said she’s on standby if I need backup.”
I lean in for a hug. “I’ll be back to set you free before the Sweet-N-Savories afternoon rush.”
“Take your time. We’ve got you covered.”
“Thanks again, Em.”
Other than Olivy, my family doesn’t know just how desperately I need the grant. They just think it’s a great opportunity for me to upgrade the shop, so I’m letting them roll with it. Devlin still thinks I should tell them what’s going on, but after today, I’m hoping I won’t need to.
It will all work out.
It has to.
“Oh!” I turn back to Emmie. “There’s a clipboard hanging on the back wall with some of the most common blends. Cinnamon and vanilla can be added to just about any of the black teas, although I’ve been experimenting a bit with nutmeg and it—”
“Violet, my love, my sweet sister, my favorite tea witch and all-around badass? Don’t take this the wrong way, but…” Emmie ties on an apron and shoves me toward the door. “Make like a tea… and get the fuck out of here. You’ve got committee stiffs to impress!”
“Any questions so far?” I ask brightly, my colored pie charts beaming down from the big screen at the head of the conference table as I walk the length of it, making eye contact with each of the six committee members.
But ten minutes in, I can already tell.
The committee stiffs are most certainlynotimpressed.
Not by my rock-solid business plan or my ace spreadsheet game. Not by the binders Devlin and I meticulously assembled with enough sections and colored tabs to earn my Virgo-of-the-Month award a dozen times over. Not even by the basil- and vanilla-enhanced charm infusing me from today’s Get It, Girl brew.
I don’t understand. Devlin and I combed over the application together for days, crossing every t and dotting every i in triplicate. I’ve got all the required paperwork, the licenses, the appropriately business-boring outfit,andmy tea-infused zest for life. But despite my efforts, I’ve yet to garner so much as asinglesmile or nod of encouragement from the lot of them.
Least of all from my stupid ex, who spent my introductory pitch scrolling through his phone, undoubtedly checking his investment portfolio.
Just like he used to do in bed.
“I’m surprised at the lack of a social media footprint,” the woman next to Brandt says—Elsie Cunningham, the new teen lit librarian at the high school, not that far out of high school herself. “I did some sleuthing before our meeting and couldn’t find much about the Kettle and Cup on any of the major apps.”
“Cauldron,” I say.
“Is that a new app? I haven’t heard of it, but—”
“No, the name of the café is Kettle andCauldron, not cup.”
She sets down her phone, her glossy smile twisting into a frown. “I think you’re proving my point. You have no brand, no presence. A kitschy name will only get you so far. You need to get the word out about your business, or how will anyone know you exist?”
“I don’t have much time to be online. Most of my time is spent in the café, perfecting brews and interacting with my guests.” I tap my phone and the next slide appears—a clever bit of tech magic Olivy hooked up for me. “But the grant will help me invest in additional marketing and—”
“Have you thought of hiring an influencer to help promote your brand?” she presses. “Influencers are known to help juice the algos and increase reach across key demographics…”
She’s rambling on, speaking an entirely different language Devlin and Olivy would definitely understand, but all I hear is the sound of a giant toilet flushing my dreams down the drain.
