laughed. “I don’t like holding people up.”
“I don’t think that bothers you one little bit,” she told him.
“What are the two of you smiling about?” Sarah asked as she joined them, plopping into a chair next to Joseph. “I want a really, really strong mocha,” she added. “It’s been a killer day.”
“We’re smiling because it’s Christmas Eve,” Joseph told Sarah. “And why has it been a day?”
Chloe began making Sarah an eggnog mocha, her most popular order of the day, while Sarah sighed. “Noah has been secretive all week and leaving hints he wanted me out of the house, though not very good ones. I think he’s making me something, and he’s behind. Brooke wasn’t feeling well, so I found her and did some shopping, but she’s exhausted, and I still have a bunch of presents to wrap. Every year I think I’ll be more organized, but it only seems to get worse as time goes on.”
She thanked Chloe when her hot cup of coffee was set down in front of her.
“Maybe I should be grateful I’ve been here all day. It seems much less stressful and certainly calmer,” Chloe said. “That is, when I’m not interrupted a dozen times.” Her smile took away any sting to her words.
“You love us visiting, so don’t try any guilt trips,” Sarah said. “This is the best coffee I’ve ever had. Yummy.”
“You should try some tea; it’s healthier and calming,” Chloe said as she sipped on her own cup. “And you look mighty jittery as it is. I’m a little worried about giving you more caffeine.”
“I do love a good cup of tea with a ton of honey in it,” Sarah said. “I’ll have that next, with a blackberry scone.”
“Coming right up,” Chloe said.
Sarah and Joseph chatted while she made more drinks and grabbed pastries. With how many she’d been eating that day, she was going to be lucky if her pants buttoned by the end of the shift. And though she’d been on her feet for hours, her staff were incredible, and they were getting everything finished.
They had a very limited menu that day, as they used the week of Christmas to make to-go meals. It brought in a nice bonus flow of cash at the end of their year. Knowing the amount of work it took to prepare a full holiday meal, if she wasn’t already a chef, she’d probably order it out like so many others were doing more and more each year.
The cost might’ve been a little high, but the savings on time made it totally affordable. She should’ve ordered the smallest package for herself to take home for Christmas, but by the time she was done cooking the stuff for a week straight, she was sick of looking at turkey and stuffing. She wasn’t sure she could eat it again Christmas afternoon.
Now, the pastries were a whole different story. She could eat those day in and day out. She was really grateful for a fast metabolism. She’d probably die if she were forced to go on a keto diet. No bread, pasta, or potatoes was the cruelest form of torture, in her opinion.
Her bell chimed again, and she smiled as her mother walked in, looking beautiful in her red jacket and leather boots. She moved to the counter and sat beside Sarah.
“How are you, darling? I haven’t seen you in forever,” Genevieve said.
“Wonderful, Mrs. Hitman,” Sarah said as she hopped off her stool and gave her a hug.
“That’s fantastic,” Genevieve said, then turned to her daughter. “I want your strongest, sweetest coffee. Merry Christmas.”
“I thought you and Father were going to be on a plane today,” Chloe said as she began making her mother a white mocha eggnog latte. It was extra sweet and extra decadent.
“Yes, yes, but there are delays as usual, so I wanted to swing by to see my only child before we head off to the sunshine.” Chloe’s parents had been heading to the Bahamas for Christmas since she’d gone off to college. They’d invited her every year, but she preferred to be in the cold for the holidays. She’d done one in the Bahamas and discovered it didn’t feel like Christmas at all. She was so used to her parents being gone it didn’t upset her at all.
“Why would you leave during Christmas?” Joseph asked.
“My husband and I get too restless without some sunshine. We definitely love this area, but we need to get away every few months, or we fear we’ll wrinkle