“I think magic is your specialty, not mine,” Harvey said, and my toes curled with glee.
The register dinged. Mario rifled through cash and receipts as another group of customers walked in.
Harvey got up and gripped his chair. “I saw your review, by the way.”
I gulped down my hot chocolate, my muscles contracting. “Was it everything you wanted?”
“Maybe.” His fingertips played at the edge of the chair back, his tone teasing. “Did you mean all those nice things you said?”
I nodded and lowered my lashes. “There’s a reason I come back every shift. Even if I probably shouldn’t.”
“Why not?” He frowned.
“I don’t know. My car is ancient. I should really be saving up to repair it. Get Christmas presents. Go back to school or something.” I scratched my arm and glanced at the incoming customers.
Harvey leaned over the table to whisper, “Is that your way of fishing for a free cookie again?”
I held up a hand. “N-no, I–”
“Stay there, troublemaker.” He walked back to his station and snagged some cups to start on the new batch of orders.
Wait, was he really going to get me something?
It was impossible to keep track of my book’s story and Harvey’s efficient strides. My fingers shook with each page turn. I even dribbled some hot chocolate down my chin.
He swung by to drop off a stack of napkins, his lip quirking up. “Ma’am, please stop making a mess.”
“I didn’t need this many.” I laughed, wiping my face with the back of my hand as I reached for the top of the stack. Something was under the paper. I peeled it back and gasped. A frosted sugar cookie was nested inside the napkins, the cookie snowman’s scarf sparkling red.
My heart grew three sizes. This was for me? I gazed at my barista. “Thank you, sir.”
Harvey rolled his lip ring under his teeth. “I figured you could use a treat. ‘Sugar’ is in your name, after all.”
I made a tiny squeak of joy and picked the snowman up, torn between breaking him to devour in sweet devotion or sitting him against my hot chocolate for a photo op.
Harvey smirked as he strode back to his station. “Just don’t expect stuff like this all the time.”
“I will manage my expectations.” Swaying to the punk cover of a Christmas song, I beamed at the snowman cookie, then at Harvey. “You know, despite some mishaps, I think we have a serious chance at getting on the Nice List.”
Harvey chuckled and fixed his apron. “Glad to hear it. I’m going for manager, so I’d love for the Big Man in Red to put a good word in.”
“Aw, I’m sure my bosses would…" My insides fluttered at the way I’d intended to finish that sentence: I’m sure they’dloveyou as much as I do. Because they wouldn’t. Love was an awfully strong verb, although my admiration for Harvey was growing with every visit. Should I leave him something besides a nice review and a tip? Then again, if he wanted my number, he could’ve asked for it.
He glanced over from his work between bursts of steam. “What?”
“N-nothing.” I stuffed the cookie into my mouth so I wouldn’t slip out of my mall persona. That was close. I had to preserve the sanctity of our holiday magic. However, if he kept giving me cookies and teasing smiles, I wasn’t sure I would last the week.
11
Advent
It wasn’t easy to visit the coffee shop every shift, but I did make an effort over the next few days. Just the thought of Harvey’s smile was enough to set my heart fluttering. But sometimes our shifts didn’t sync. Maybe the stars wouldn’t align for us to form a deeper relationship.
“How’s Harvey?” Chestnut sang the second I got back from break.
“Didn’t see him.” I’d half-considered walking out, but Chestnut needed his coffee. Plus, Mario saw and heard me because of my bells, and if I left just because Harvey wasn't there, then, I'd be a creep. And a crappy friend. I stuck Chestnut’s coffee in the cove and power-walked into position.
A kid in line coughed without covering their mouth.
