Page 27 of Caffeinated in Amesbury
The faint glow of my laptop screen bathed my face in a ghostly light, tendrils of auburn hair cascading over my furrowed brow as I scrolled through my extensive list of literary contacts. Each name was a potential savior, a lifeline for the struggling Caffeinated Bliss, and I wielded my influence with the precision of a maestro.
"Okay, I've got a bite," I declared triumphantly, breaking the silence that had settled in the coffee shop like freshly fallen snow. "Jasper Kline is in."
Thomas glanced up from the mound of papers that had begun to resemble a snowdrift on the counter. "The Jasper Kline? Author of 'Whispers of Winter'?"
"The very one." I smiled, blue eyes sparkling with the reflection of my screen. "And he's promised to bring the first chapter of his new novel. Exclusive sneak peek for our patrons."
"Brilliant!" Thomas exclaimed, clapping his hands together as if trying to ignite a spark that would set our plan ablaze. "Felicity, you're a miracle worker."
I brushed off the compliment with a casual flick of my wrist but couldn't suppress the warmth that spread through my chest. "It's all about who you know—and making sure they owe you a favor or two."
We shared a conspiratorial grin before Thomas grabbed a stack of brightly colored paper from beneath the counter. "Let's turn these into something eye-catching. You're the wordsmith; I'll handle the visuals."
"Deal." I stood, stretching my limbs and feeling the creaks of muscles too long stationary. I approached the counter, where Thomas had begun sketching out a design, his tongue poking out slightly in concentration—a quirk that I found both endearing and amusing.
"Make sure to leave room for the event titles," I said, leaning over his shoulder and pointing to a blank space on the page. "We can call it 'A Literary Winter Wonderland'."
"Perfect." He nodded, etching the words in bold letters at the top of the poster. "How about 'Meet the authors who will make your season read'?"
"Ha! Puns now, Thomas?" I teased, though I scribbled down the phrase on a sticky note. "I didn't take you for the wordplay type."
"Only when it comes to selling coffee and books," he replied with a wry smile.
As Thomas continued to sketch, I perched on a stool beside him, my mind flitting between crafting witty descriptions for the posters and the social media campaign we'd have to launch. I imagined the flurry of likes and shares, the buzz of excitement that would ripple through the town as news of our event spread.
"Let's not forget hashtags," I mused aloud, tapping my lip thoughtfully. "#CaffeinatedChristmas #BlissfulBooks"
"Are those things really necessary?" Thomas asked, looking every bit the literary purist befuddled by modern technology.
"Trust me, they're the breadcrumbs that will lead the whole town to our gingerbread house." My analogy drew a chuckle from Thomas, his green eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Fair enough," he conceded, leaning back to admire their handiwork. "I think we've nailed the festive angle."
"Agreed," I said, standing up and stretching my arms above my head. My gaze landed on the posters, adorned with whimsical fonts and charming illustrations of steaming mugs nestled among piles of books wrapped in bows. A surge of pride swelled.
"This is going to work. We just have to focus on more than just right now. You want to do things that will entice them to come back. Maybe think about doing things like this year around. Punch cards. Things like that.," I proclaimed, meeting Thomas's gaze with fierce determination.
"Let's do it," he agreed, his voice steady yet infused with a hint of excitement that mirrored my own.
Our laughter echoed in the empty coffee shop, a prelude to the harmony we'd create together. As we tidied up, our movements synchronized in the dance of two people united by a common cause, I allowed myself to bask in the moment—a moment filled with the promise of success and the whisper of something more.
The next day, I wove my way through Caffeinated Bliss, adjusting a garland here, straightening a red ribbon there. Each step I took crunched softly on the faux snow that Thomas had insisted on scattering across the floor, despite the inherent mess it would entail.
"Looks like a Winter Wonderland in here," Thomas remarked, his voice carrying over from where he was perched atop a ladder, affixing a string of twinkling lights to the bookshelves.
"More like Santa's library," I quipped, stepping back to assess the handiwork. The warm glow of Edison bulbs cast a cozy hue over the shop, reflecting off the ornaments that dangled amidst the greenery. I watched as Thomas wrestled with a particularly stubborn tangle of lights, his brow furrowed.
"Need a hand?" I asked, suppressing a smile.
"Got it!" Thomas exclaimed triumphantly, the last knot giving way. He descended the ladder and joined me, both surveying the room. "Feels magical, doesn't it?"
"Enchanting," I agreed, blue eyes scanning the setup, ensuring every detail was perfect. Our collaborative efforts had transformed the familiar space into something out of a storybook—inviting armchairs were clustered around a crackling digital fireplace app on a tablet, plaid throws draped over our backs.
"Imagine this place filled with eager readers, hot cocoa in hand, hanging onto an author's every word." My heart swelled at the image, my dreams for Caffeinated Bliss taking shape before my very eyes.
"Hot cocoa with a side of Dostoevsky," Thomas mused, chuckling. "Only you could dream this up, Felicity."
"Speaking of dreaming big," I began, pulling out my phone with a purposeful air, "it's time to work my other magic." I opened my contacts list, scrolling past names that could fill a Manhattan soiree guest list. "Local media and influencers won't know what hit them."
