Page 4 of Captiva Café

“YouTube?” Maggie blinked. “Are we on YouTube?”

“I thought maybe someone posted a drone video of the gardens or something,” Millie continued, fanning herself with a linen napkin. “But every caller said the same thing. They heard about us from atravel channelfeaturing a woman in a white van.”

The silence in the kitchen thickened until Iris whispered, “Oh no.”

Oliver dropped his spoon.

Lexie barked once.

Maggie set her scone dough down slowly. “You don’t think…”

The front door slammed open, and rapid footsteps clattered down the hall.

“MOM!” came Sarah’s voice.

A second later, Maggie’s daughter swept into the kitchen, hair flying, cheeks pink from the sun and holding up her iPad like a search warrant. “You need to see this. Right now.”

Behind her, little Sophia and Noah hovered in the hallway, peeking in curiously while their toddler sister, Little Maggie, toddled in behind them carrying a plastic flamingo.

Maggie held up a hand. “Slow down. What happened?”

Sarah plunked the iPad on the kitchen island and hit play.

There on the screen, in high resolution and full charisma, was Maggie’s mother, and Sarah’s grandmother—wearing a straw hat, turquoise capris, and standing proudly in front of her beloved Garrison Getaway.

“Hello, Silver Wanderers! It’s Grandma Sarah, and I am back in beautiful southwest Florida, parked just over the bridge from one of my favorite hidden gems: The Key Lime Garden Inn in Captiva. If you’re traveling down this way and want peace, palm trees, and the best scones on the Gulf Coast, look no further…”

Maggie groaned. “Oh. No.”

“Oh yes,” Sarah said, grinning. “She tagged the inn’s address. Included the phone number for reservations. There are slow pans of the garden, the porch, your kitchen window, and a three-minute monologue about the lavender linen spray you use on the pillows.”

Millie turned red. “That’s my spray.”

“She called it ‘an oasis for the seasoned soul,’” Sarah added. “And she ended the video by saying, ‘Tell them Grandma Sarah sent you.’”

Oliver reached for a pastry and muttered, “We’re going to need more scones.”

Millie threw her hands up. “I can’t keep up with the calls! We’re already booked through next month, and now people are asking about ‘the van influencer package’—whatever that means.”

“We don’t evenhavea van package,” Maggie said, rubbing her temples.

“She’s gone viral, Mom,” Sarah said, showing the screen. “Seventy-two thousand views in two days.”

Just then, Paolo walked into the kitchen from the garden, carrying a small basket of cherry tomatoes and wiping his hands on a towel. “What’s all the commotion?”

Maggie turned, hands still on her hips. “Did you know anything about this?”

Paolo blinked. “About what?”

She jabbed a finger at the iPad screen. “My mother’s YouTube campaign for the inn.”

Paolo winced. “She said she wanted to take a few photos of the place before she left on her trip. Something to show her friends. I thought it was just for fun.”

“She tookdrone footage, Paolo,” Sarah added. “She used that slow zoom you taught her.”

“I did teach her that,” Paolo said proudly, then paused. “Oh.”

Maggie stared at the ceiling. “My mother is a senior influencer. We’re running a travel destination by accident.”

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