Page 4 of Christmas Treasures (Sugarville Grove #6)

CHARLIE

S tomach in knots, Charlie set the reclaimed wood box on the prep counter of her restaurant.

Four wheels of Bramblewood Ash cheese nestled inside like hidden treasure, still cool from Max’s deli case, was no joke.

Yet the victory felt hollow, given Max’s obviously troubled state.

He’d clearly had more important things on his mind than cheese.

Still, handing over the cheese without a fight had been unexpected.

She had spent many years battling men during her time in tech, so she had been prepared for a more ruthless reaction.

She flashed back to Max’s appearance during cheese-gate. His neck had been flushed with splotches of pink and his eyes glassy and unfocused. His hands had trembled when he reached into his deli case to pull out the cheese. Her cheese.

He’d been different all right. Not at all like the smooth, sure-footed man who had just come in for lunch.

A twinge of guilt for the way she’d acted made her stomach clench all over again.

She’d come in hot. Ready for a fight. Instead, he’d listened to her and apologized.

Unthinkable. At first, she’d been suspicious, waiting for him to lay some demand on her.

In tech, a person never gave up something without wanting something in return.

She shook off the encounter. Whatever had happened, it wasn’t her business. The cheese was back in her possession. That was what mattered.

“Oh wow,” said a voice behind her. “He gave it back? Cheese-gate problem solved?”

Charlie turned to see Nina Mercado, grinning as though she’d won the lottery.

With her ink-dark curls pulled into a bun and a dusting of flour on her cheek, Nina was part firecracker, part food nerd, and the best thing that had ever happened to Sugarville Slice.

Fresh out of culinary school, she’d possessed a gift for flavors and a knack for predicting customer preferences that bordered on eerie.

More importantly, she understood Charlie’s silences, precision, and refusal to compromise.

Well, perhaps understood was a strong word.

She understood how to give Charlie space and not bombard her with personal stories like so many other people.

She accepted Charlie as she was—quiet, cerebral, and without any interest in chitchat or gossip.

Nina, on the other hand, had thrown herself into the community of Sugarville Grove as if her life depended on it.

She was constantly chattering away with the other staff about a party she went to or a public screening of some movie at Little Bear Lake, and she practically lived for the Christmas tree lighting.

Charlie had never been to any of these events and had no plans to attend in the future.

Despite her father’s chastising from heaven about how she needed to connect more with other people.

Why would she do that? Connecting only led to heartbreak.

When she’d left the Bay Area and headed back to the Vermont town where she and her father had spent one beautiful week together when she was sixteen, it had taken months for the nightmares to stop and the tightness in her chest to loosen.

The less she interacted with people, the better she felt.

Her staff was one thing. They were all competent and deferential to Charlie.

A boss was a boss. But the rest of the town? She had no interest in making friends.

“So I was right?” Nina asked. “Whitaker sold them to Max.”

When the Hayes brothers had been in earlier, Nina had heard Max mention how he was getting four wheels of the popular cheese. When Charlie’s order hadn’t shown up, Nina had mentioned it to her, and they pieced it together. Max had her cheese. Cheese-gate.

“Yep, all three wheels,” Charlie said to Nina. “Max gave everything he had to me. Without a fight.”

Nina let out a slow whistle. “Christmas came early. But why did he have it in the first place?”

Charlie arched a brow. “According to Max, it was probably a mix-up.”

“I doubt that.” Nina folded her arms. “Regardless, it was nice of Max to let it go.”

“I know. He didn’t even hesitate.”

“Huh.” Nina leaned on the counter. “That’s oddly generous. Or suspicious.”

“Exactly. People around here are so odd. I mean, in a different way from California. Like, why would he just give it up so willingly?”

“Max Hayes has a reputation of being kind, generous, and an all-around trustworthy guy. All the Hayes brothers are, as far as I can tell. They do a lot for the community.”

It would seem so. Still, it was hard for Charlie to believe. Regardless, she was going to have one heck of a talk with Whitaker. “I’m going to my office to call Whitaker.”

“Good luck, boss. And try not to scare him too badly.”

“I plan to. Scare him, that is. ”

Tucked behind the kitchen, the office she shared with Nina was a small, windowless room that smelled faintly of oregano and printer ink.

The space was minimalist to the point of stark—white walls, a single metal filing cabinet, and a reclaimed wood desk she’d found at a furniture store in Burlington.

Everything had its place: labeled folders in neat stacks, a sleek monitor with dual screens, and a leather-bound notebook positioned at a perfect right angle beside her keyboard.

Charlie took a breath and dialed the number for Whitaker Cheeses. It rang five times before a gravelly voice answered.

“Whitaker Cheeses.”

“Hi, Earl. It’s Charlie Keene, from Sugarville Slice.”

“Charlie Keene from Sugarville Slice.” Earl sounded as if he was leaning back in a rocking chair, with an almost mocking tone in his voice. “What can I do for you?”

She pressed her fingers to her temple. “It’s about your Bramblewood Ash inventory. I ordered four wheels. Only one came. I found out my other three wheels were delivered to Max Hayes.”

“Oh. Yeah. I meant to call you about that. Thing is, Max called in the day after we opened the winter allocation. He got his order in first. You were a couple of days behind.”

Charlie’s jaw tightened. “I’ve been ordering from you for two years. Consistently. You know I always design a winter pizza with it as the main ingredient. Why didn’t you tell me that when I ordered it in the first place?”

“Right, yeah,” Earl said. “We had a lower yield than I thought we would. And Max got to me first. Plus, I’ve known him a long time. That store of his is a Sugarville treasure. Plus, he’s a good guy.”

Her stomach twisted. “And you didn’t think to let me know before I had menus printed with the winter special? ”

“He’s local. Grew up with my boy, actually. Played third base together in Little League. I’m loyal to him.”

There was a pause. Charlie stared at the photo of her and her father in front of the country store back when they had visited on their hunt for the best cheeses. What a road trip that had been.

“So,” she said slowly, “Max got the full order because he’s local. And you didn’t bother to tell me because you think it’s funny?”

“Not exactly,” Earl said, chuckling as if she were being too serious. “He called first. And I know him. I trust him.”

The words hit harder than she expected. She gripped the edge of her desk, knuckles whitening. “That still doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell me.”

“Just slipped my mind, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart . Now she was sweating. If this guy thought he was getting any more of her business, he was delusional.

“I see. You can cancel the rest of my orders for the year. I’ll go elsewhere for my cheese.”

“Hey now, no reason to be dramatic.”

Dramatic? Her hands curled into fists. She would love to show this jerk what drama really was.

“I am a businesswoman. I had a deal with you, which you reneged on. Thus, I will change my cheese supplier. Simple as that. What did you think, sweetheart , that I would just accept a lack of communication from my major supplier like a good little girl?”

“Kinda. I guess.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not how it works with me.

I’m no one’s sweetheart, good girl, or whatever other demeaning pet names you’d like to use to keep me in my place.

I used to eat guys a lot smarter than you for breakfast. I sure hope Max Hayes orders a heck of a lot more cheese from you next time to make up for my loss of business because I’m out. ”

She hung up before he could say anything else.

For a moment, she just sat there, fuming.

She didn’t know what she’d expected. Fairness? An apology? For him to speak to her with respect? She’d had that tone directed at her many times before. In boardrooms. At investor meetings. All her life, men had underestimated her. Other than her father. He’d thought she hung the moon.

But the rest of them? Not so much. Even though ForkCast was her baby, her invention, and her coding, men on her board had treated her like a silly child.

Look, no one’s questioning your talent—we just need a grown-up in the room.

We’ll circle back once we’ve heard from your CFO.

You remind me of my daughter—she’s sharp too.

How about we bring in someone with a little more…executive presence?

She hadn’t heard those exact words from Earl, but it was close enough.

And now she was going to have to find new cheese.

By the time Charlie pulled into the gravel drive to her farmhouse, it was nearly dark. Her dad’s old Chevy, still bearing the faded sticker of his pizza joint, rattled to a stop in her garage.