by Jenny Hale
Putting her hands on her hips, Charlotte fanned out her long winter coat and assessed the place. “Kind of rustic…”
Lila had to admit that the online photos of the town must have been taken at a very good angle, with lots of filters, because Main Street—which had looked like a quaint Christmas escape in the photos—more resembled a tiny spot along the road. The shops were quaint, their picture windows filled with wares, but only a few folks strolled about, the sidewalks mostly empty. Perhaps it was a winter lull. There was a used bookstore, a café, a small market, and a gas station. “Let’s go check it out,” she said, trying to make the best of it.
She took in the simple, unsophisticated décor of the coffee shop as they stood at the entrance. It was a no-frills kind of place. A log table sat outside with a view of Main Street, but the porch was empty, buried under snow. Lila could imagine the old oak trees in the fall, set against the backdrop of the small town with the hills in the distance, and what looked like a grand farm just beyond. She was willing to bet that it would be stunning when the leaves had all changed color, a little different than the barren empty branches that now reached out toward the heavens, as if grasping for their lives.
They all walked in, and Lila found herself standing in the center of a cramped and dark dining area dotted with only a few odd customers. A stone fireplace flickered, the fire only dancing when the door to the place was open. It had an old, bare wood bar that stretched across the wall in front of them, and there was nothing by the register or on the tables to let anyone know it was Christmas. Encased in thick shellac on top of the bar were old guitar picks and sheet music, clearly paying homage to Music City. A soft bluesy country music track hummed above them. And a sad, forlorn Christmas wreath, which might have been alive last year, hung from the center wall above the bar. The barista standing under it didn’t appear to be full of festive spirit either. He was about their age, as rugged as a lumberjack, and staring at them with a frown and piercing blue eyes.
His gaze landed on the sparkly lettering of the T-shirts Charlotte had made, which they had all put on over their long-sleeved shirts. Then his head turned to the side and he leaned over to look past them, the skin between his brooding eyes wrinkling. “Can you shut the door, please?” he asked, as if he was bothered by their mere existence. “It gets cold in here.”
“Oh!” Lila jumped to follow his command. “Sorry.” She turned around and grabbed the doorknob, shutting out the view of her old Volvo with the giant Christmas tree tied to the top, and wondering what he thought of it. She closed the door just as Piper joined them from the bathroom. “We saw your sign outside. Is that the name of this place?” Lila asked, making light conversation.
“Sure,” he answered.
“Sure?” Edie contested his answer, clearly put off by his lack of manners and obvious annoyance that they were even there. “So the coffee shop doesn’t have a name?”
“The locals don’t need a name. Do you, Johnny?” he called over to a man in bibbed overalls, who was reading the paper with a mug in his hand.
“Nope,” he yelled back.
“Charming,” Edie said under her breath. “Like Prince, but coffee. Marketing nightmare…”
“We’re vacationing here,” Charlotte told the man behind the bar, but he didn’t seem fazed by it, so she just went ahead and put in her drink order.
The barista huffed condescendingly at Charlotte’s selection as he grabbed a cup.
Lila asked for her usual latte and then plopped down into one of the chairs, ready to get their vacation started. The coffee shop wouldn’t be the height of their Christmas merriment, certainly, but it was at least warm and the fire was nice.
“I read an article about this place last night when I was researching the area to get ideas about things to do this week, and it suggested that someone mysterious owns it,” Piper whispered into the center of their circle once they were all settled, one eye on the barista who still wasn’t giving them a minute of his attention. Piper was a walking celebrity aficionado by accident, due to her love of music and reading; she knew anything and everything about music. She could give you endless strings of concert dates, celebrity musician sightings, and song lyrics.
Piper stretched her long arms out onto the table casually, her beaded bracelets tapping together. “No one knows who the owner is for sure. The article I read said all the transactions have been made under the pseudonym Brian Brown, but no one believes he exists. There are no records of anyone in this area with that name. If you ask the barista, they say he won’t utter a word about it. Maybe he’s undercover or something. Or famous.”
Lila tried not to be conspicuous while she stole a look at the guy behind the counter to whom she’d just given her drink order. His face was strikingly attractive, with dark hair to match the shadow of stubble and those bright blue eyes. He had a resigned look on his face while he reluctantly frothed the latte he was making. Then suddenly he made eye contact and her blood ran cold.
“Hey, I don’t have any almond milk for your latte,” he said to her, in a way that made it seem like he was resentful at having to use his energy to speak. “All I’ve got is real milk.”
Lila got up so they didn’t have to yell across the dining area. “You’re a coffee shop and you don’t have an alternative to dairy? What if I was allergic?”
He frowned. “Are you?”
“No, but still.”
With his eyes on her, he picked up the jug of whole milk and tipped it, letting it glug into the frothing cup as if to spite her. When he’d finished topping off the espresso in her cup, he said, “Lids are at the back,” and slid it toward her, nodding to a small stack of supplies at the end of the counter.
“Well, if we’re going the dairy route, I want whipped cream,” she said, sliding it back to him.
“It’s extra. Twenty cents.”
“No, it’s not. Because I ordered an almond milk latte, which you have on your menu.” She pointed to the wooden sign with the list of drinks on the wall above the bar. “And if you’re out of ingredients,” her words came out syrupy sweet, “no matter what I’d ordered, you should give me some whipped cream as a consolation for making me take a drink I wasn’t prepared to have.” Just before he denied her, she added, “But none of that matters because you charge an extra twenty-five cents for almond milk when I only got dairy milk, so you actually owe me a nickel.” She scooted the cup a little further toward him. “But we’ll call it even.”
Those blue eyes glistened with interest for a moment, and she had to work to keep herself steady, but then it was gone, his face irritated and smug again. He unenthusiastically added whipped cream onto the top of her latte, but the can was empty, causing it to spit out all over her and the cup. Lila jumped back with a squeal, brushing the white globules off her coat as he handed her cup back.
“Anything else?” he asked.
“That’s all. Thank you,” she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes and returning to her friends. “I don’t think he’s anyone famous,” Lila said quietly, disgust on her face. She glanced back over at him once more.
Charlotte leaned forward. “Even though he is pretty cute.”
“Definitely not,” Piper said with a chuckle. “Famous, I mean. As for the cuteness factor, he’s got that going for him.” She tucked her long white-blonde hair behind her ear and reached for her coffee.
“So tell us about your date, Lila,” Charlotte piped up, changing the subject. “I’m dying to know what Kyle was like!”
Lila made a face. “I’ll never trust your blind date suggestions again,” she told her friend.
Charlotte burst into laughter.
“I can hardly match my Tupperware lids to the correct bowls on a regular basis, and that guy had me dangling from the edge of a mountain. I had to put all my faith in staying alive with these little color-coded hooks jutting out from the rock, and the tether that I prayed I’d clipped on to it correctly. Never again.”
She should hav
e seen the red flag when he told her to be sure to have cash for the parking.
“You aren’t coming to pick me up?” she’d asked, while drawing her lip-gloss across her lower lip in preparation for what she thought would be a romantic evening. She hadn’t worn lip-gloss in ages. She’d bought the new shade especially, since this was the first date she’d had since she and Razz had broken up a few years ago.
“I’m playing hockey with some guys after, so we should drive separately,” he’d told her.
She’d thought they were going to spend a nice dinner talking and drinking wine, not climbing a mountain where her life flashed before her eyes with every placement of her fingers. She couldn’t believe it when he’d said that was what they were doing.
She had almost cancelled right then, but she remembered how Charlotte had told her that she had to give people a chance if she ever wanted to find Mr. Right. Charlotte had also said that every new relationship began with a first step (even a step onto a mountain, apparently). Lila knew she should try, but it wasn’t easy. Ever since her breakup with Razz, she’d found it hard to get close to men. She just never felt herself with them. She knew it wasn’t healthy to close herself off, but she couldn’t help it.
“I nearly plummeted down the mountain,” she continued as the barista brought her the drink she’d ordered. His eyes narrowed at her statement, but he didn’t interject.
“He took you mountain climbing?” Charlotte asked, horrified. Her idea of danger was realizing she’d lost her Bloomingdale’s coupon while holding the last pashmina on the clearance rack. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you,” Lila said to the barista.
He eyed Charlotte and then looked back at Lila curiously before he retreated to the bar. Lila ignored him and settled in, telling the girls everything about the date and sparing no details. It was what they did. They shared all kinds of stories with each other, especially the ones about their once-nonexistent love lives. That was how their little group was born.
“I can’t believe it,” Piper said. “You don’t take a girl on a mountain climb for a first date. That’s ridiculous. This guy Kyle is clearly inexperienced.”
Edie, who’d been quiet the whole time, cut in. “I agree with Piper,” she said. “It’s a ludicrous first date.”
“I think you should give him another chance,” Charlotte said, sticking up for him. “His date option wasn’t great, and he’s not good at romance, obviously, but he’s really nice. Once you dig down to his underbelly…”
Lila shook her head emphatically. “No way.”
“Let’s ask the guy behind the bar what he thinks,” Piper said, playfully putting them all in cringe-mode.
“That guy?” Edie whispered. “He definitely looks like the mountain-climbing type. That’s not a neutral party.”
“If we’re giving out second chances, let’s see if he’ll warm up to us. Maybe we’ll just give him a nudge. Excuse me,” Piper said, getting his attention. She waggled her finger for him to come over. “Would you settle something for us?” When he was standing by them, eyebrows raised skeptically, she asked, “Do you think it’s okay to take a woman mountain climbing on a first date?”
His gaze swept across the table. “It depends on the woman,” he said bluntly, before giving them a condescending look. He headed straight back behind the bar and began wiping down glasses.
“What did he mean by that?” Lila asked.
Charlotte leaned over to her. “Maybe he meant that it’s okay if the woman is the outdoorsy type.”
“I think I should ask him,” Lila said, feeling a little annoyed that he’d suggest she wasn’t the “right” kind of girl when they were his customers, buying coffees, and trying to enjoy themselves on vacation. “I hope he wasn’t being a jerk. If he was, we need to spread a little Christmas cheer to this guy.” She got up and headed over to the bar once more.
“Hello again,” Lila said, forcing a smile.
The man’s hands stilled, the glass and towel in his fingers unmoving as he looked at her expressionless, clearly waiting for whatever it was she had to say.
“I’m Lila Evans,” she said, as he continued to stare at her. “What’s your name?”
He gazed at her a tick before answering, “Theo.” He resumed wiping the glass, set it upside down onto the shelf behind him, and grabbed another from the line of dripping glassware.
This guy’s attitude had to be bad for business. No wonder the coffee shop had barely a soul in it. Perhaps she should give him a wake-up call and suggest she was going to complain about the service.
“Well, Theo, I’d like to speak to the owner.”
He put his items down and leaned on the bar with both of his strong, masculine hands, his face overly close to Lila’s, his unique scent of soap and spice making her heart patter with nervousness despite herself. “I am the owner.”
She heard Piper gasp over her shoulder.
Still nearly nose-to-nose, she replied, “You haven’t exactly given us a warm welcome. And where’s the holiday cheer? You don’t have a Christmas tree. Or candles, or a garland, or Christmas music…”
“No,” he stated, righting himself.
“I think you need some festive sparkle in here. Candy canes. A few red bows,” she offered, knowing she was winding him up. “I’m aware that you’re a guy, so you could make it… more casual if you didn’t want bows.”
“You think guys like any of that stuff?”
She squared her shoulders and looked him directly in the eye. “Depends on the guy.”
Charlotte stifled a snort of laughter and Edie quietly shushed her.
Lila expected Theo to be ready to throw them out, but instead, his sapphire eyes remained locked with hers in challenge and the corners of his lips rose ever so slightly, offering the hint of a grin. She’d gotten him, and he seemed to like it, giving her an unexpected flutter. But just as soon as the look came over him, it left. He cleared his throat and turned his back to her, moving to rearrange the mugs on the shelf behind him. And when he did, she realized that she hadn’t been breathing until then.
Two
“Well, that was weird, wasn’t it?” Edie said from the backseat, as Lila drove them further into the Tennessee hills to their vacation home for the next week. A flurry of snowflakes escaped from the blanket of clouds in the sky, the car tires shushing through the wet roads that would most certainly be a sheet of ice come sundown.
“Definitely,” Lila replied, the memory of Theo’s sort-of-smile lingering. “But we’ve got our own coffee machine at the cabin, I’m sure, so it’ll be nothing but Christmas vibes all around from here on out.”
They were moments away from Fireside Cabins now, described online as a home away from home, a place of serenity that will have you wishing you could stay forever. Lila couldn’t wait until they were all nestled inside their own little hideaway, making mugs of hot peppermint cocoa in their red-and-white striped socks, hanging ornaments on the Christmas tree to the tune of festive classics. As was tradition, she’d packed the wrapping paper, bows, and all her favorite decorations. Charlotte had been in charge of the wine and snacks, Edie was bringing cookies and chocolates, and Piper, of course, had stockings chock-full of bath bombs, bubble bath, soaps and lotions, and the most delicious smelling Christmas mulberry candles.
“I’m so excited,” Charlotte said, clapping her hands.
“We’re almost there.” Lila rounded the last turn.
This week was Lila’s favorite of the year, and she was determined to make it the best trip yet. Christmas had been especially difficult for Lila—and every December the holiday reminded her of just how alone she was. This vacation had been Lila’s saving grace through her breakup with her boyfriend, Razz Malone. Razz was the nickname he’d gotten when he was a boy because of the loud dirt bikes he used to ride. He’d razz the engine just to hear it growl. She’d known him since they were kids, and his entire life he’d had his heart set on becoming the next country music superst
ar.
She and Razz had taken all the savings they had, which was about nine hundred bucks in total, and headed to Music City to follow his dreams. What she hadn’t anticipated was that the strain of living in his van during all the gigs he played, trying to make enough money for them to live on and surviving on pennies, would begin to tear them apart when she’d thought it would make them stronger. And then he’d hurt her in the worst way, leaving her for someone he barely knew.
As she matured, she realized that they’d become two totally different people. While she used to love his playful nature, she began to resent it when she was pulling double shifts and he wouldn’t help her pay the bills, taking the money he’d earned from gigs and staying out with his new friends in the bars downtown, forgetting all about her. He didn’t help her establish friendships as a couple, or work with her to find them a modest place to live where she could relax after a long day’s work. And after a while, she started to wonder if he had ever really been in love with her at all. He never asked how her day was or what she’d been doing, and as he spent long nights out with his friends, it occurred to her that she was alone.
After only a few weeks together in Nashville, she’d found him in the van they shared cuddling up with the stylist he’d hired for his first video shoot, and it was then that he’d admitted he was moving on. In that instant, he’d broken her heart and cheapened all the years they’d been together, making Lila feel like she’d tagged along on the move to Nashville rather than making the journey by his side. Ever since, she kept waiting to hear his name on the radio, but to this day, she hadn’t. If she were a betting woman, she’d guess that if she looked hard enough for him, she’d find him in some old honky tonk, still playing every night and never once thinking about her.
In the aftermath of the breakup, she vowed to never put herself in that kind of position again, and instead she put all her energy into her friendships. This wonderful group of women was something she didn’t know how she’d live without. But she might have to learn how. Charlotte’s new job with the TV network was going to require a considerable amount of travel—so much that she’d already mentioned the possibility of moving to California, where the network was located. Piper would soon be too busy with work and house hunting in Colorado. She was considering going back to school there so she could take a few business classes, since her career was building so quickly, and expanding her soap company. And Edie had met someone special—a man named Jarod. That was why Lila wanted to make this year even more special and have one final Christmas blowout together with her best friends.
