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"I do. Thank you." I pop my hands on my hips. "Now give it back."
She looks me up and down thoughtfully. "Take your shirt off."
I cross my arms protectively over my chest. "Look. I get that you're in a strange place, grieving your ex-fiancé or whatever, but I'm not getting naked for you in my shop." I might, however, consider getting naked for her in a more private location.
She waves a hand and smiles indulgently. "You are so high drama. I'm not trying to have sex with you. I think we ought to post pictures of you shirt-less and making candy on your socials and your website."
"I don't have socials and you aren't posting photos of me anywhere. You're going to give me back that candy and go about your day."
She moves like a damn cat and is suddenly standing in front of me, her soft palm against my cheek. "Oh, sweet Xavier, you need my help so badly and you don't even realize it."
Her skin against mine is a revelation I want to sink into. I want nothing more than to lean in and kiss those soft lips. Then her words register. I jerk back before she can completely possess my soul. "I don't need help, sweetheart. And I sure as hell don't need your help."
"You don't see it now, but I'll send you some mock-ups of my ideas. It might seem like a lot of money at first, but trust me, it'll more than pay off in the end."
"Nope." I move behind the counter and out of her reach, so I can think straight. "I don't know what you're talking about, but the answer is no."
"Your branding, Xavier. I'll save your business and possibly your hermetic, grumpy life and you'll help me get RJ back."
"Nope."
She strides toward the door. "When you think about it, you're getting the better deal by far. No more RJ in your sister's life and your business rescued from the doldrums of despair."
"I said no. Alice is already pissed at me. I'm not interfering in her love life, and I'm sure as hell not paying you to ruin my shop."
My words echo against my closed shop door.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Cherry
As time is of the essence, I've put Peach to work on deciphering RJ's frequent social media posts to determine the best place to 'accidentally' bump into him. Lucky for us, he posts about sixteen times a day. Plus, I've made friends with Rita at the local market who works as a cashier and gossips like her life depends on it.
All signs point to Mistletoe Coffee being his first stop of every day. It's early, just after eight in the morning, and the shop is bustling, but not overly busy.
I scan the crowd, but RJ isn't anywhere in sight. My plan is to get in line for coffee ahead of him to make our 'bumping into each other' more natural. There's even mistletoe hanging not too far from the register. If I can manage it, we'll be standing under it at just the right moment.
I take up a position in view of the door, but close enough to the counter that I can hop up to it without being too obvious about getting ahead of him.
Today, I'm wearing ankle boots, a miniskirt, and a practically see-through blouse with a red bra underneath. The red bra feels festive. It's not snowing, so my hair is still perfection. I slide off my puffy coat and hang it over the back of an empty chair so my look is perfect.
"Miss?" a barista calls in a deep baritone of a voice. "Are you ready to order?"
I look over to see a stunningly handsome man, dressed with all the hipster vibes, and wearing reindeer antlers on his head. "Thank you, hottie." I flutter my lashes at him and give him my most flirtatious smile. I spent more of my teen years than I like to admit perfecting both. "I'm waiting for someone."
He nods and goes back to whatever he was doing. It occurs to me he might say something to RJ to make it sound like he thinks we're together. Like he might take RJ's order before he gives me my total, or ask if we're paying together. That would be a disaster.
I glance out the window, but don't see RJ on the street. I hurry over to the counter. "Hey, Finch." I read his name off his name tag.
"What's up?" he asks, giving me his full attention. I get suddenly nervous. What if he's a good, honest small-town barista and will ban me from his shop for my scheming?
"You okay?" he asks.
I clear my throat and pull myself together. "I'm great. It's just that the person I'm waiting for…" I lean in closer and lower my voice. "He doesn't know I'm waiting for him. I want our meeting to be organic, so please don't say anything about us being together."
His eyes widen. "Is this a good meeting or a bad meeting? Because if you're planning to yell at him or ambush him with another woman—"
"Nothing like that." I straighten. "I'm setting up my perfect meet-cute."
