Page 21 of The Huckleberry Bookshop

“He’s the local animal control officer and veterinarian.” She gestured toward the back of the building. “There’s a broken vent that leads to the alley that Clem uses as a cat door.”

“Will you take him home once you open up shop?” Having a cat in a working café was surely a no-no.

She shrugged and passed a chipped white cup his way.

The drink smelled heavenly.

She took a sip of her own latte, her lashes fluttering as she enjoyed the hit of hot liquid. And then it was back to business with her watching him warily over the rim of her cup.

This would be a good time to confess that he didn’t flaunt her rules nearly as much as he let everyone believe.

“Wait. I get the name. Clem as in Clemens?”

Athena nodded, a lock of hair falling forward and brushing her cheek. She quickly tucked it back behind her ear, but it escaped again.

“You named him?”

“Brant did.”

“Clem,” Mullens mumbled, petting the cat. Named after Samuel Clemens, the man who wrote Huckleberry Finn under the famous pen name of Mark Twain. “Clever.” He said to the animal, “ Suits you and your giant head.”

Mullens took a sip of his latte and the sweetness hit his taste buds with a one-two knockout punch. His eyelids drifted shut. He missed sugar.

“Good, right?”

He opened his eyes to find Athena grinning at him.

Mullens set down his cup, feeling uncomfortable. He gestured to the mishmash surrounding them. Unassembled bookshelves, stacks of boxes and dishes.

“When do you open?”

“Next month.”

He choked on an inhale. “And you’re doing this while publishing a cookbook and working for the Dragons?” He’d pegged her as an overachiever, but this was crazy. “Don’t enjoy having free time, huh?”

She sipped her coffee, not answering, just glancing around the room as though adding things to her mental to-do list.

“I’m the same,” he said. “What do you do when you’re not working?”

“Open stores, obviously.” She grinned, and he chuckled.

“Are those boxes in your office at the arena for here?”

“Hey, do you want that in a cup to-go? It’s Christmas Eve.” She checked her watch. “I’m sure you have places to be.”

She was kicking him out? Already?

“Thanks.” He handed her his cup. As tasty as it was, he’d seen how much sweetener had gone into it. Taking the drink with him would be a polite way to avoid finishing it, as well as the inevitable sugar crash later tonight.

Athena opened a box, pulling out a stack of paper cups. She grabbed his mug, poured the contents into the disposable one and handed it to him. “Sorry, I’m not sure where the lids are.”

“You know, I can recommend a good business coach if you need one.”

“We’re going to run this ourselves,” she said, gently herding him toward the shop’s front door.

“No, not a manager. A coach. Basically, they help you prioritize, deal with overwhelm and mindset, as well as keep you focused on your vision.”

Athena had been reaching for the door’s lock, but lowered her hand, peering at him. “Do you have a business coach?”

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