At the coffee shop, the line to the counter was all the way to the door. I made the most of the wait and snuck a bite of sandwich, my nose wrinkling at the stench of over roasted coffee beans.
A little boy peeked around the line and tugged his mother’s coat. “Hey, Mommy, isn’t that the lady who was supposed to feed the reindeer?”
Sweat dripped along the slope of my back. This winter coat and polyester costume combo wasn’t doing me any favors. How did the kid recognize me all covered up? There were millions of long-haired girls in the world. The peppermint stockings and glittery makeup must’ve given me away.
“Maybe she’s getting him a treat,” the mother said.
By the time I reached the cashier, I was a mess. Crumbs stuck to my fingers and I didn’t want to suck them clean or wipe them off on my jacket. A used plastic bag poked out my pocket. Hopefully, that didn’t ruin the magic for the little kid, who was still watching me with rapt attention as I stepped up to give my order.
I had to fix this.
My tongue stuck to the roof of my parched mouth. “One carrot cake, one hot chocolate, and one coffee, please.”
“What sizes?” the cashier droned, gesturing to the stacked cups to their left.
“Small hot chocolate, normal coffee, please.” I didn’t know exactly what Chestnut wanted, so hopefully, a handful of creamers and sugars would be enough to customize his order.
“What’s your name?” The cashier tapped a few buttons, their ill-fitted Santa hat slipping down their brow.
I glanced at the kid behind me and chewed my lip.Would they remember my elf name?
Sighing, the cashier popped a hip.
“Sugarplum,” I decided. My elf name suited me fine.
The cashier rolled their eyes, then punched it in and took payment. “We’ll call you when it’s ready.”
“Thank you.” I put a few wrinkled dollar bills and a candy cane into the tip jar with its fancy red ribbon, hoping it’d spread some holiday cheer and make up for the weird name.
The little boy from earlier talked loud enough I could hear him even as I passed the coffee bean grinder. “Reindeer eat carrot cake? That’s awesome.I want a piece.”
His mother patted his shoulder. “Only if you’re good. We still have three more stores. Do you promise to play your games and be good for me?”
“Yeah.” The kid trotted over to me. “Do they let you hang out with the reindeer?”
“They’re busy training for the big day. However, I know from our snack sessions that they’re very nice and strong,” I said, flexing. “They’ll probably stop by your house on Christmas, but only if you’re sleeping. Reindeer can be shy, like me.”
“Really?” The kid's eyes widened.
I made chit-chat for another minute, enjoying the brief, grateful smile of the parent who just bribed her kid for a few more minutes of peace. They got their order and left, giving me more room at the pickup area to explore.
The seasonal cup sleeves stacked by the creamers came in an array of bold colors. I flipped through the different designs: snowflakes, stars, sleighs…
A deep voice dripping with sarcasm sounded from across the counter. “Oh, good. I was hoping someone would touch every single sleeve. Please, unstack everything. Not like anyone else needs them.” A hand with black-marker-coated nails started collecting my personal gallery.
Gasping, I drew my elbows tight to my sides. “Sorry.”
The barista wiped his terse brow, dark brown hair curling out from under an olive green cap.
Wait, was this the same guy who saw my wipeout in the parking lot? The one I accidentally bombed with a snowball?
I froze, tensing under his scrutiny. Up close, this man was the most beautiful, intimidating barista I’d ever seen. He had cheekbones that could’ve been hand-crafted by the world’s best dollmaker. Light glinted off his lip and brow piercings with the gloss of ornaments on a Christmas tree. His saggy olive cap had one of those thin paper New Year’s Eve crowns tucked into the inseam. He tilted his chin up, powerful and fair. He was a prince. A king?
And wow, I wasthirsty.
3
Bells and Baristas
