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ELEVEN

AMOS

I glanced at my phone as I approached Special Blend twenty minutes early to my meeting with Mickey and Bo, not that I was eager or anything.

When I’d left Sparky’s after helping during the breakfast rush, Sage had commented on my leaving extra early, but I’d brushed it off as wanting to get out and walk around a bit. Get some fresh air.

I couldn’t admit that I was eager to see the guy I was crushing on and arriving early—even though he wouldn’t be there—made absolutely zero sense. But I was antsy.

The Special Blend window was painted with a charming scene of falling leaves in classic autumn colors. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted out as a customer left.

“Hey.” Mickey’s greeting was smooth as butter.

I hadn’t noticed him approaching from the other direction and couldn’t help my wide smile at seeing him. “Here early to grab a seat before the late morning rush?”

Mickey’s smile widened. “Something like that. How about you? Taking some time to pick out a new book before our meeting?”

It took great effort to stop thinking about how good he looked with the dark-gray beanie complementing his blue-gray eyes and reply to him with something other than, “You look really cute.”

“Something like that.” My smile grew even wider.

“Hey, guys! Welcome in,” Caspian called while pulling an espresso shot.

We moved to the long counter on our left and waited for Caspian to finish making the drink.

“Americano with room?” Caspian asked Mickey, who nodded. Then Caspian turned his attention to me. “Is today an iced coffee, a cappuccino with extra chocolate, or an Americano with room day?”

My eyebrows rose. “You remembered my drinks?”

Caspian smiled easily. “Of course. You’re becoming a regular.”

“Thanks. I’m in a cappuccino mood today.” I’d gone to the same coffee shop near my office in Boston daily for six months, ordered from the same barista ninety percent of the time, and they still hadn’t remembered my order.

We had our drinks within a few minutes, and I followed Mickey to a table in the back of the coffee shop-slash-bookstore. Only one other table had people sitting at it and they didn’t pay any attention to us.

“I picked up a new book yesterday and stayed up until one finishing it.” I shook my head. “When will I learn to quit starting new books after eight at night? I always think I can read a reasonable chunk before bed and then put it away, but have I ever successfully done that? Absolutely not.”

Mickey relaxed into my seat. “That’s the most relatable thing I’ve heard in months. What book was it? I’m about to finish the series I’m working on.”

“It’s book one in The Briefcase Chronicles. ”

“I loved that one! I’m a sucker for time travel in fantasy books. What did you think about that twist at the end?”

“Didn’t expect it at all .”

For the next several minutes, we dissected the book in all the detail I’d been craving to go into with someone all day. I didn’t know anyone who read the same books as me. Sage read thrillers and the business bros I’d worked with hadn’t been fiction readers, at least as far as I knew.

“That plot was similar to one we had in a Dungeons and Dragons campaign a couple of years back. It was so fun.”

“You play D&D?” Watching Mickey get animated and eager about something was quite possibly the most adorable thing ever. I couldn’t help but feel like he was showing me a side of him that not everyone got access to. It meant a lot that he felt comfortable with me.

A blush crept up Mickey’s cheeks. “Yeah. Dorky, I know.”

“I think it’s cool. I’ve always been curious about it, but never knew anyone who played, so I didn’t get into it.” The only people I’d spent substantial time with for years were ones who got paychecks from the same place as me. Not exactly a group I could ask about starting a D&D game.

I bit back a laugh at how high Mickey’s eyebrows rose.

“Really?”

“I’m nerdier than you think I am.”

He tilted his head. “But you were so popular.”

“Can’t popular kids be nerds?”

Mickey arched one eyebrow.

I laughed. “Fair enough.”

“Do you remember Alex MacDougall from high school? He’s our dungeon master and runs all the games. It’s all high school people, actually. Finn Hunnicutt, Jason Zervudachi, and Sam Thatcher. Bo even plays once in a while when his schedule allows.”

All those names were familiar, and I could place most of the faces.

I had even been friendly with one or two of them back then.

“It sounds like a great group. I’m jealous you have such a tight-knit squad.

” My social life was barren in comparison.

I had countless acquaintances but few people I could call true friends.

Mickey’s eyebrows pinched together. He looked like he was thinking through something, but as he opened his mouth to speak, the chime over the coffee shop entrance dinged.

“There’s Bo.”

Bowie stepped halfway inside while shaking his umbrella off outside.

“Pick the book talk back up later?” I asked.

Mickey’s charming smile sent a jolt of electricity through my veins. “Can’t wait.”

Bo exchanged a few quick words with Caspian and left cash on the counter, then strode over to us, taking the chair next to me. “How’s the menu coming along?”

Mickey pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, unfolded it, and handed it to Bo. “Good. We finished, assuming it’s not too many dishes for the volunteer kitchens to handle.”

He scanned the page. “I’m impressed. This looks good. Can you email me a copy?”

“Did it before I got here.”

“You’re the best.” Bo aimed a teasing smile at each of us. “And people thought you guys couldn’t work together.”

“We grew up in restaurants. Menu planning comes second nature,” I said.

Bo laughed. “I wasn’t too worried, but it’s a relief this is running smoothly.” He gestured between Mickey and me.

“Why?” Mickey took the question from my mouth.

Bo leaned close. “I know I said all I needed you guys to do was prepare the menu, but I need more help. Something exciting has happened that will be pulling a lot of my time.”

I’d half expected that to happen with everything Bo seemed to have going on.

The impression I’d gotten was that he was drowning at work.

The caterers in the area were probably all booked up with Christmas gigs, and the estimated attendance was more than Sparky’s and Red’s kitchens combined could handle.

Even if the diners decided to close for Christmas Eve breakfast and lunch, it still wasn’t enough time and space to do all that cooking.

“Is it something you can share with us?” Mickey asked.

Bo’s demeanor was even more eager than at the last Holiday Hoopla meeting when he’d sprung this event on us. “I wasn’t planning to say anything since I didn’t expect it to happen. Never in a million years.” His voice was low despite no one sitting near us.

“Last month, I saw a social media post from Good Morning, USA, where they said they were accepting submissions of the best Christmas celebrations around the country. They planned to visit some for their Christmas Day special.” Bo shook his head in disbelief. “They’re coming here!” he said loudly.

Caspian approached with Bo’s coffee in a to-go cup. “Who’s coming here?”

“Rumor has it Poppy is considering a return for the Maplewood Music Festival next year,” Mickey said easily.

“No way! That would be amazing! She was incredible. When I moved here, I didn’t expect we’d get such top-tier performers coming to town.” Caspian nodded his goodbye and moved to bus a table.

I hadn’t believed Sage when they’d told me that one of the world’s biggest pop stars was playing a music festival in Maplewood of all places. Poppy in my hometown. I still couldn’t believe it.

Mickey leaned in close. “You’re telling us that the biggest national morning show in the country is coming here ? For our festival?”

Bo’s nods grew more bobblehead-like with each word he spoke.

“We’re still ironing out the details of what they want to cover and when, specifically, they’ll be in town.

It could be any event in the two weeks leading up to Christmas.

This is going to pull a lot of my attention to make sure we’re prepared for a national spotlight.

” He smiled apologetically. “I’m going to need you guys to take over a bit more of the Christmas Eve Community Dinner planning. Is that okay?”

“Sure,” I said quickly. I hoped that meant more visits to Mickey’s house with great cheese and, if I got lucky, picking up where we left off on Halloween. I tried to push the desire away, but it was like stopping a freight train with an open hand.

“No problem,” Mickey said, words overlapping mine.

We smiled at each other, and my crush grew even bigger.

Bo seemed oblivious to the unspoken excitement between Mickey and me.

“Great. That’s going to help a ton. I’ve already done some brainstorming on people to reach out to who might be able to offer food, labor, or commercial kitchen space.

I’ll give that to you guys so you can make the rounds.

I’ve also put together a budget with the grant funding that I’ll email to you when I get back to the office.

” As if on cue, his phone buzzed. “I’ve got to run.

I’ve got another meeting starting in five.

Thanks so much.” He stood. “And keep that news between us, okay? I don’t want to tell anyone else until things get a bit more ironed out.

That includes your families. Some of them have loose lips.

” Bo smirked and clapped Mickey’s shoulder before walking toward the door and waving at Caspian on the way out.

After Bo left, Mickey and I stared at each other.

“I can’t believe it,” Mickey said.

“Maplewood featured on the most popular morning show in the country? This could be amazing for the town.” I knew my family would be over the moon about increased traffic to Sparky’s.

“Dad’s going to lose it.” He stared off into the distance. “It’s a big spotlight on the diners.”

I couldn’t quite read his expression.

“So, how do you want to handle things once we get that list from Bo?” I asked.

“Maybe we can start after Thanksgiving? It’s going to be pretty swamped at the diner the next few days.”

I nodded. “Same with Sparky’s. It’ll be all hands on deck. Plus, we host our Thanksgiving at the restaurant. What about you?”

Mickey chuckled. “That sounds rowdy but fun. Mine is small. Usually Dad, Aunt Ingrid, and any random family members in town.”

“What about your mom?”

Mickey’s smile dimmed. “My parents divorced when I was in college, and now she travels or spends Thanksgiving with her family.”

As soon as he said it, I remembered hearing that gossip years ago. One of the many random tidbits I’d heard about the Brewers and Red’s over the years. Now I wished I remembered them.

“I’m sorry. That had to be hard.”

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “It’s fine. I get why she left.”

Something in how he said it made my heart break.

“Anyway, let’s start after the holiday?”

“Perfect. Split the list or go together?” I wanted to spend more time with Mickey, but I didn’t know if he felt the same. Maybe the prospect of doing all this work together sounded about as fun to him as a root canal. Or maybe he was feeling the same as I was.

“You’re far more outgoing than I am. I think we’ll do better if we team up.”

I smiled at the eagerness in his eyes. “And you know way more people in town. So, we’ll use my extrovertedness—is that a word?—and your connections.”

“The dynamic diner duo.”

I leaned forward and smirked. “Alliteration is so sexy.”

Mickey blew out a breath while laughing. “This might kill me.”