Page 18 of The Huckleberry Bookshop

“What? Oh. You can dust the debris off their skin with a soft brush.” Her tone was wary, her face red.

“But aren’t they grown in…” Mullens looked at the camera. “Can we swear?”

“Definitely not. Start your conversation over from the top,” Howell said.

“We’re making a simple, delicious egg-white omelet today,” Athena said, her voice rising with stress.

“No,” Howell said in exasperation. “Talk about the mushrooms.”

“Hey, how about you critique the video once we’re done? And while you’re gone…” Mullens moved around the counter, using his size to edge Howell toward the kitchen’s back exit that led into the storage area and then out to the alley “…how about you Google how to deliver a compliment burger?”

“What’s a—”

“Nuvella, you can go out there with him. He’s going to need help with this.”

The publicity manager scooted out the door like Mullens was chasing her.

“What’s it called again?” Howell peered at his phone screen as he typed in a search query.

“It’s a compliment, then constructive criticism, followed by another compliment. Compliments are the buns.” Mullens pushed the man outside, where it had started to rain. “Athena’s the real talent in this video series. Figure it out or don’t come back.”

“But my—”

“I said figure it out.” He shut the door in the protesting man’s face.

Athena hustled back to her spot behind the counter and tried to appear as though she hadn’t been eavesdropping. Or swooning over the way Chad had shoved Howell from the building without even touching him.

Swoony.

Delicious.

And so off-limits.

And why was she swooning? The man was a hot mess. Who brought a “hostess gift” to a video shoot? And expensive jewelry at that?

He was trying to bribe her into forgiving him, even though he didn’t deserve it.

She ought to return his gorgeous little earrings out of principle.

As Chad rounded the corner into the kitchen, she schooled her expression, set down her phone, where she’d been pretending to text her sister, and lifted her eyebrows. “I have a family supper in an hour.”

He gave a curt nod, his expression dark, hinting at protectiveness or anger. She wasn’t sure which. He glanced at the camera. “That thing still rolling?”

She shrugged and pulled at the neck of her sweater. It felt hot in here all of a sudden.

“All right,” he announced. “From the top.”

Suddenly he was all business, taking the cooking as seriously as his practices. Yeah, she’d watched a couple. It was her job. She needed to see what her players were doing on the ice so she’d know how best to fuel them. That was all.

“What’s your deal?” she asked Chad.

“There is no deal.”

There certainly was. He’d rammed his way into this project, was being charming but not smarmy, and then he’d defended her like she was someone important to him.

“Do you need to wash mushrooms?” Chad held up a handful. “Because I was told they grow in manure.”

“Commercially grown mushrooms aren’t,” Athena said.

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