Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Kathryn
" L ook at these numbers." I slide my tablet across Cam's cluttered desk. "Community events at our Wilmington location tripled foot traffic in under two months."
Cam barely glances at the screen. "Local events are messy. Take up space. Interrupt the flow of regular business."
"They create regular business." I pull up another chart. "See these peaks? Farmers’ market Saturdays. And these? Live music nights. People come for the events and stay for the coffee."
Annie, the most experienced barista, pokes her head into the office. "Sorry to interrupt, but I couldn't help overhearing. The Callahans do amazing events at the lodge. Maybe Nolan could?—"
"Absolutely not." Cam's chair scrapes against the floor as he stands. "We don't need the Callahans' help."
Annie flinches at his tone. "I just thought since he does such great work with their marketing..."
"That's all. Thank you, Annie." Cam's dismissal is clear.
She shoots me an apologetic look before disappearing back to the counter. Through the office window, I watch her greet a customer with a warmth that's completely missing from this room.
"Local partnerships are key to?—"
"To what?" Cam interrupts. "To making this place as quaint and inefficient as it was before? We're a franchise, not a community center."
"We're both." I stand my ground. "That's Coffee Loft's whole model. Being part of the community while maintaining consistent quality."
"Quality means standardization."
"Quality means understanding your market." I pull up one more set of numbers. "Look at your customer retention rates. They're abysmal. People come once, maybe twice, but they don't come back. You know why?"
"Enlighten me."
"Because there's nothing here that says 'Elk Ridge.' Nothing that makes this place special."
His jaw tightens. "And you think some local events will fix that?"
"I think they're a start." I take a breath. "And I think Nolan Callahan could help."
"Absolutely not."
"Why? Because he knows what works here? Because the lodge's events are successful?"
"Because he's difficult. Uncooperative. Stuck in the past."
I excuse myself, ostensibly to check on inventory. Annie's wiping down tables, humming softly.
"Tell me about the lodge events," I say casually.
Her face lights up. "Oh, they're amazing. Last month's harvest festival had the whole town out. Nolan coordinated everything—local vendors, music, activities for kids. He even got the high school art club involved with decorations."
"Sounds perfect for what we need."
"It was. Is." She glances toward the office. "Before... I mean, when Mr. Peterson owned the place, we used to partner with the lodge all the time. Nolan would help promote our events, we'd cater their gatherings. It worked."
I think about Nolan at the market, so different from the corporate-wary mountain man I first met. About how he knew every vendor by name, how naturally he fit into the community's fabric.
Back in the office, I face Cam again. "Our quarterly review is in two months. Corporate's watching this location closely."
"I'm aware."
"Then you're also aware we need to show significant improvement." I pull up the projections. "Community events could increase revenue by thirty percent. Minimum."
He stares at the numbers, jaw working.
"Fine." The word sounds like it physically pains him. "Talk to Callahan. But keep him out of my coffee shop."
"Your coffee shop?"
"You know what I mean." He turns to his computer, dismissing me. "Just keep him away from the counter. I don't need his opinions on our drink menu."
I leave the office, mind racing. What happened between them? Why would a franchise owner be so against working with someone who clearly knows this market?
Annie catches my eye as I pass. "Good luck," she mouths.
I'm going to need it. Because somehow I have to convince a man who thinks I'm everything wrong with corporate coffee to help save a place he used to love.
At least I know he looks good in flannel.
Wait. Where did that thought come from?
I shake my head, pushing through the door into the mountain morning. One impossible task at a time.
The steady thunk of an axe leads me around the side of Mountain Laurel Lodge. I find Nolan splitting wood, and for a moment, I forget why I came.
He's shed his usual flannel for a simple gray t-shirt, and the late morning sun catches on his shoulders as he works. The pile of split wood beside him suggests he's been at it for a while.
"Enjoying the show?"
I start, heat rushing to my cheeks as I realize I've been staring. Nolan's watching me with that half-smile that seems to live in the corner of his mouth.
"I was looking for you, actually." I step closer, trying to focus on my mission rather than how the mountain air has tousled his hair. "I have a proposition."
"A corporate proposition?" He splits another log with precise force.
"A community one." I wait until he looks at me. "The Coffee Loft needs help."
"That's putting it mildly." He sets up another piece of wood.
"I want to bring back local events. Farmers' markets, music nights, art shows. Things that make it more than just another coffee shop."
The axe pauses mid-swing. "And what does Cam think about that?"
"He's... coming around to the idea."
Nolan laughs, but there's no humor in it. "Right. And let me guess. You want the lodge's help?"
"I want your help." That gets his full attention. "Annie told me about the events you used to coordinate. How you brought the community together."
"That was a long time ago." He leans on the axe handle, studying me. "Before your corporate playbook took over."
"That's just it. This is not the playbook. Coffee Loft is supposed to be about community. Cam's the one who lost sight of that."
Something flickers in his eyes. "Pretty bold statement for someone who works for him."
"I work for Coffee Loft." I step closer, close enough to catch the scent of pine and wood smoke. "And I've seen what happens when we get it right. In Wilmington, our shop is a hub for local artists, small businesses, families. That's what this location could be."
"Could have been," he corrects. "Before Cam decided efficiency was more important than connection."
"Then help me prove him wrong."
He's quiet for a long moment, just looking at me. I fight the urge to fidget under his gaze, aware of how close we're standing, of the warmth radiating from him in the cool morning air.
"Why should I trust you?" His voice is softer now, almost curious.
"Because I'm not asking you to trust Cam, or even Coffee Loft." I meet his eyes. "I'm asking you to trust that I want what's best for Elk Ridge."
A bead of sweat traces down his neck, and I catch myself following its path before snapping my attention back to his face. He's noticed, if that slight quirk of his eyebrow is any indication.
"What exactly would you want from me?" He sets the axe down, crossing his arms.
"Your expertise. Your connections. Nobody knows this community like you do."
"And when Cam decides my ideas are too 'local' for his franchise model?"
"Then I fight that battle." I lift my chin. "I've got the numbers to back up community integration."
"Numbers." He shakes his head. "Always comes back to numbers with you people."
"No, it comes back to proving what works. And your events? They worked."
He studies me for a long moment. "I'd need complete creative control over the events."
"Within Coffee Loft guidelines?—"
"Complete control," he repeats. "Or no deal."
"I can't just?—"
"Then we're done here." He reaches for the axe.
"Wait." I touch his arm before I can stop myself. His skin is warm under my fingers. "Okay. Creative control. But I need to be involved in the planning."
"Why? Don't trust my corporate-corrupting influence?"
"Because I want to learn." The honesty in my voice surprises us both. "I want to understand what made this place special."
He looks at my hand, still resting on his arm, and I quickly pull it back.
"Fine." He straightens, and suddenly I'm very aware of how he towers over me. "But I'm not doing it for Cam."
"I know."
"And I do it my way. No corporate oversight."
"Within reason."
That gets me a real smile, quick and dangerous. "Afraid I'll corrupt your brand standards?"
"Afraid you'll turn the place into a mountain lodge annex."
"Wouldn't dream of it." He picks up the axe again. "The lodge has better coffee anyway."
"For now." I back away before I can get distracted again. "Meeting tomorrow? We can go over ideas?"
"Make it dinner." At my surprised look, he adds, "Declan's making his famous pot roast. Unless you have other plans?"
"Dinner sounds perfect."
I'm halfway back to the lodge when his voice stops me.
"Kathryn?"
I turn. He's silhouetted against the morning sun, axe resting on his shoulder, looking every inch the mountain man I first took him for.
"This better not be another corporate rescue mission."
"It's not," I say softly. "It's about making something right."
He nods once, then turns back to his work. I definitely don't watch him set up another log. Definitely don't notice how his shirt clings to his shoulders as he swings the axe.
Definitely need to focus on something—anything—else.