Page 26 of Steeped In Problems

She nodded at Kristy. “You’re the reason I think it might work. Keep running things like this, and I’ll give you as much time as I can.”

Kristy felt her heart leap up into her face. “Thank you,” she managed and hoped no one could see her eyes go shiny.

As the meeting wound down, Rhonda herded everyone together for a group selfie. “First responders, get in the middle. Kristy, you’re the star. Blaze, try to look happy for once.”

Everyone squeezed in. Tanner hesitated, but Kristy grabbed his sleeve and pulled him closer. “Smile,” she whispered, “or I’ll make you wear a tutu at the car wash.”

He snorted, but the corner of his mouth turned up.

They all raised their coffee mugs for the shot. After the photo, Aiden clapped Tanner on the back. “You got this.”

Lindsay hugged Kristy, then whispered, “You’re a force of nature. He’s lucky to have you.”

Kristy almost told her the truth—that she was terrified, that she’d never saved anything this big before. But instead, she hugged Lindsay tighter and nodded.

The shop emptied out fast. Only Kristy, Tanner, Rhonda, and Emily remained. Emily packed up her tablet and then paused at the door. “I’m rooting for you guys,” she told them with a genuine smile, then left.

“We got this,” Rhonda encouraged as she followed behind. “I’ll see you both in the morning.”

Kristy turned and found Tanner at the window, looking out at the street.

She came to stand next to him. For a moment, neither said anything. Then Tanner exhaled, a sound more relief than exhaustion.

“You really think this will work?” he questioned with concern in his voice.

Kristy looked out at the night, the twinkle lights from Main Street and the stars just starting to sparkle over the mountaintops.

“I think if anyone can make it work, we can. And if not, we’ll at least go down swinging.”

He glanced at her, and she saw the spark again. Not just hope—maybe trust. “Thank you,” he whispered— like it was the hardest thing in the world to say.

She leaned her shoulder against his arm, a tiny nudge. “Don’t thank me yet. Wait until I’ve got you in a tutu.”

He laughed, and it sounded real.

They stood together in the empty shop, looking at the messy tables and the crowded whiteboard, and for the first time, Kristy let herself believe.

Chapter Eight

The next day, the last of the regulars—a trio of high schoolers and the old Vietnam vet who lived for black drip—shuffled out with sleepy goodbyes and promises to “see you at the car wash.” Rhonda had gone home to “stress-bake” more muffins, which meant tomorrow’s cases would be full of flavors that weren’t even legal in some states.

The shop’s center of gravity shifted until it was just Tanner, Kristy, and Emily. For the first time since the day started, Tanner’s shoulders relaxed. He took a sip of his coffee—lukewarm and bitter, just how he liked it—and made his way to the whiteboard.

“Didn’t think anyone would stick around this late,” he said, nodding at Kristy.

She turned, startled. Her eyes were brighter than usual. “I’m riding the adrenaline wave. If I stop moving, I’ll pass out, and you’ll have to haul me out to my car.”

He snorted. “I’ll drag you by the ankle. Less effort.”

“Just don’t mess up my hair,” she replied, grinning as she shifted a sticky note two inches to the left. The whiteboard was already half-full: headings in block letters “CAR WASH” “BAKESALE” with bullet points and wild arrows scribbled underneath. “Tomorrow, we start on the flyers and set up the event pages. I want the whole county to know.”

He set his mug on the counter, peering at the board. “You really think a car wash and a bake sale are gonna save this place?”

Kristy rolled her eyes. “Not alone, no. But it’s not about the car wash, Blaze. It’s about getting people here. Once they’re in the door, they’ll remember why they like it.” She paused, growing a little more serious. “I know this town. If you ask, they show up.”

He wanted to argue. He always did, with her. But the truth was, she was right. The meeting had packed the shop wall to wall, and half those people had offered more than he’d ever expected.

He found himself staring, just for a second, at the curl of her hair over her ear, the fleck of blue ink on her cheekbone, the way her eyes moved when she solved a problem. She caught him, and he looked away, picking up his mug. “I can’t believe how many people showed up,” he said, softer than he meant to.

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