Chapter 20 Simone
Chapter twenty
Simone
The clink of a spoon against glass cut through the cheerful chaos of conversation.
I turned to find Krampus moving to the center of the room.
He held a glass of spiced cider that looked absurdly delicate in his hand, and his expression carried a gravity that sent my heart skittering against my ribs.
This was it. The announcement. I smoothed my hands down my dress.
Manager. I was about to be named manager.
Official. Permanent. The thought should have been purely thrilling, but something deeper twisted beneath my breastbone, a hunger I hadn't allowed myself to acknowledge until recently.
A desire for more than just a title. For true belonging.
His eyes found mine across the room, and the corner of his mouth lifted in the barest hint of a smile that only I could see. "Tonight," he began, "we celebrate the heart of this café."
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd. Several guests raised their glasses in my direction. I felt heat creep up my neck.
"When I purchased this building centuries ago," Krampus continued, "it was merely an investment. A place for supernatural beings to gather without drawing mortal attention. A practical solution to a practical problem."
He paused, his gaze sweeping the room before settling on me again.
"But investments don't create community.
They don't remember that Mrs. Howlson prefers lavender in her tea on full moon days to calm her cubs.
They don't craft special mugs with cooling charms for vampires with temperature-sensitive fangs and don't stay after hours to listen to a lonely lich complain about modern literature. "
The lich in question harrumphed from his corner but didn't actually disagree.
"People do these things," Krampus said, his voice softening fractionally. "Extraordinary people who see others, truly see them, and respond with kindness that goes beyond service."
The café had gone quiet, every eye in the room had turned to me, and I resisted the urge to fidget or make a self-deprecating joke. Instead, I stood straighter, accepting their gazes.
"Tonight we celebrate not just our new manager—" Krampus paused, his eyes glinting with something mischievous and fond.
Wait. What did he mean 'not just'?
"—but the new owner."
The words hung in the air for a heartbeat before their meaning penetrated my shock.
Owner? My hand flew to my mouth. The room erupted in gasps and exclamations, a wave of sound that washed over me without fully registering.
From the inside pocket of his jacket, Krampus produced a rolled parchment tied with a pink ribbon that exactly matched my dress.
He extended it toward me, and the crowd parted further to create a path between us.
"The café is yours," he said. "I'm just the backing. The soul of this place has always been you."
The parchment glowed faintly in the light, magic radiating from it in gentle pulses I could feel even before touching it. A binding contract. A transfer of ownership.
"I don't understand," I whispered.
His eyes softened in a way I'd seen directed only at me. "You built this," he said simply. "You made it a safe place for any and all. The deed should reflect reality."
I extended trembling fingers to accept the scroll, half-expecting it to vanish like some cruel joke.
But the parchment was solid, warm beneath my touch, the ribbon sliding against my skin.
The moment my fingers closed around it, the café itself seemed to respond, the magical wards that protected the building from harm pulsing with golden light that traced the walls and windows in glowing patterns before settling into a contented hum.
The crowd erupted in cheers and applause.
Glasses clinked, magical sparks shot into the air, and somewhere a werewolf let out a joyful howl that others quickly joined.
Through my tear-blurred vision, I saw Silas openly crying despite his earlier claims that no one was allowed to cry and ruin their makeup tonight.
When Bramble zipped over to point this out, he loudly proclaimed that he was "perspiring dramatically from his eye region due to the subpar ventilation. "
Bramble herself looked suspiciously misty as she presented me with a bouquet of black roses dusted with glitter that smelled like midnight rain. "Knew he was up to something good," she whispered, her hand squeezing mine before she darted away.
I looked down at the deed in my hands, then back up at Krampus, who watched me with an expression I'd never seen before, a look that appeared dangerously close to adoration.
"Say something," he prompted gently when I remained speechless.
I turned to face the crowd in my café.
"This café isn't just a business," I continued, gaining strength with each word. "It's a home. For all of us who need one. And I promise to keep it that way, you are always welcome and safe within these walls to be yourself."
The cheers that followed vibrated through the floorboards, making the lights dance overhead. But all I could focus on was Krampus's face as he watched me transform from someone who served to someone who led. Who’d learned to own her power as readily as she now owned these walls.
"Thank you," I whispered to him as the celebrations resumed around us.
"No," he rumbled. "Thank you for showing me what this place could be. What you could be, when you finally believed in yourself."
I clutched the deed to my chest, feeling as though my heart might burst from the fullness within it. Owner. Mine. Home. The words echoed inside me, filling spaces that had been hollow for too long.
And for the first time in my adult life, I felt completely, utterly enough.
The party drifted into that gentle lull that comes after peak celebration.
Laughter still bubbled from corners where clusters of supernatural beings shared stories over the dregs of spiced cider.
Empty mugs formed abstract patterns on tables alongside plates that held nothing but crumbs.
The lights had dimmed to a warm glow that matched my mood, content, a little dreamy, and humming with a quiet joy that felt too big for my body to contain.
I stood by the counter, the deed to my café tucked safely in a drawer beneath the register, my fingers occasionally drifting to the handle as if to reassure myself it hadn't vanished.
Gift boxes were piled nearby, each one representing a connection, a relationship, a thread woven into the tapestry of community I'd somehow created without realizing it.
"You keep looking at everything like you're memorizing it," Bramble said, coming to stand at my shoulder. "It'll still be here tomorrow, you know."
I smiled. "I know. I just... I never thought I'd have something that was truly mine."
She snorted. "You've owned this place in every way that matters for months. The magic just finally caught up with reality."
Before I could respond, a familiar warmth pressed against my back. Krampus.
"Dance with me," he said, not quite a question, not quite a command.
I turned to face him, finding his massive hand extended toward me, claws carefully retracted.
"There's no music," I pointed out, even as my hand was already lifting to meet his.
His lips curved. "Listen more carefully."
As he spoke, I became aware of a soft melody drifting through the café, not from speakers or instruments, but from the building itself.
Krampus led me to the small open space near the hearth where the fire cast long shadows across the wooden floor.
His hand engulfed mine completely, his other settling at my waist. Despite his intimidating size, he moved with surprising grace, guiding me into a slow dance that required no complex steps, just the gentle sway of two bodies finding shared rhythm.
"Are you pleased?" he asked.
I tilted my head back to look up at him, momentarily lost for words that could encompass what I felt. "It's too small a word," I finally said. "Pleased is what you feel when a recipe turns out right or when a difficult customer finally leaves. This is..."
"Overwhelming?" he suggested.
"Perfect," I corrected. "It's perfect."
We continued our slow revolution around the small space, my dress brushing against his legs, his heat enveloping me like the safest blanket.
Around us, the remaining guests watched with knowing smiles but gave us space, conversations continuing in quieter tones.
Silas made a show of gagging whenever he caught my eye, but I didn't miss the way he sighed when he thought no one was looking.
Bramble darted overhead occasionally, trailing small sparkles that dissolved before reaching us.
As we danced, I let my eyes wander over the café, truly mine now in every sense.
The mismatched chairs that somehow formed a cohesive whole.
The counter worn smooth from years of elbows and coffee mugs.
The display case featuring Silas's creations.
The window nooks where regulars had carved out their territories through sheer habit.
The greenhouse alcove visible through a partially open door, where Bramble's plants turned their blooms to follow our movement.
Suddenly, with perfect clarity, I knew what I wanted next.
"I want to close for a bit," I said, looking up at Krampus.
His step faltered slightly, eyes widening in surprise. "You? Resting?" The disbelief in his voice would have been offensive if it weren't so justified by my past behavior.
I nodded, more certain with each passing second. "I think we deserve it. A little time. Just us."
Not just time away from work. But time together. An acknowledgment that whatever had grown between us, lust and possession that had somehow transformed into something deeper, deserved space to flourish outside these walls.
His smile spread slowly, revealing just enough fang to remind me of exactly who he was. Both dangerous and dear to me.