Chapter Nine
Fluffy tufts of snow drifted around Viola as she headed inside the farmer’s market warehouse. Every Sunday, the indoor marketplace was filled with booths and tables stocked with local farmers’ produce, plants, and jarred goods. Viola hoped to find some spices and ingredients that weren’t available at the supermarket. With the big event approaching, she had to test the recipes she intended to make for the wedding reception.
As she reached for a handheld basket, a set of fingers collided with hers.
“Sorr—” She was cut short by the shock of seeing Jonas in front of her.
Jonas pulled his hand back and straightened. He had not noticed Viola, focusing instead on his phone’s screen. He shoved the device into his inner coat pocket and gestured for her to go ahead of him.
“After you,” he said.
Viola offered the smallest of smiles. I guess I better learn how to get along with him . “Thanks,” was all she said before heading toward the first booth.
As she completed a purchase of fresh-cut herbs, something furry brushed by her legs. She turned to see one of Silverwood’s Malamutes sauntering by with its owner.
“I swear that dog is everywhere,” came Jonas’s voice from behind her.
Is he following me or something?
“That’s probably not the same one,” she pointed out.
Jonas stepped closer to her, but his focus was on the dog. “You mean there’s more than one of those shaggy hounds in this small town?”
“You don’t know about the Malamutes?”
“Is that some kind of urban legend?”
“They’re actually quite famous.” Viola strolled toward the next stand. “They saved the Christmas festival last year. It was in the papers.”
“I must have missed that.”
“Really? It was a pretty big deal. Especially because all nine are named after the reindeer.”
“Nine of them?”
Viola laughed. “Yeah. Pulling a sleigh with Rudolph leading the way, just like the song.”
Jonas’s forehead crinkled for a moment. “That’s, uh, wild.”
“It was pretty cool. I can’t believe you live in Silverwood and didn’t see it on the news.”
“Well, I wasn’t in Silverwood last Christmas.” He shrugged. “I was in Billings. Working.”
“Billings?”
“The Lakeside Chateau is only one of my endeavors. I also own a business in Billings and split my time between here and there.”
“Even for Christmas? Don’t you take off for the holidays?”
He lifted his chin. “There are no holidays when you’ve got multiple businesses to run.”
Viola frowned. “Well, that’s sad.”
Jonas stuck his fists in his coat pockets. “That’s business.”
Not knowing how to respond, Viola moved to another stand.
Jonas disappeared for a while, and Viola assumed he’d left. But when she got to the next booth to purchase some fresh vegetables, she heard a tongue click and glanced over to discover Jonas standing nearby with his hands on his sides. He searched here and there, obviously unable to find what he needed.
“What are you looking for?” Viola asked, unable to ignore him.
“Eggplant.”
“That’s what I like about this stand.” She pointed. “They put the eggplant over there near the other berries.”
He chuckled. “Other berries ?”
She gave him a half-shrug. “Yeah.”
“An eggplant isn’t a berry.”
“Yes, it is. I mean, scientifically. Culinary-wise, of course, they’re not the same. But it is, in fact, a berry. So are bananas, tomatoes, cucumbers—”
“ Cucumbers? ”
She raised her brows. “You don’t believe me.”
He narrowed his eyes. “It just seems highly improbable. Inconceivable, actually.”
“Are you willing to bet on it?” She smirked. “Look it up.”
He watched her for a second.
“Whatever. Believe what you want.” She shrugged and stepped over to the pears.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Jonas taking out his phone. When he let out a muffled curse, she had to bite back a laugh.
She spotted some pears that looked amazing and moved over to that section, then froze when someone tapped her back, thinking it was Jonas and not knowing how to react. She whirled around and saw Oliver, then sighed in relief.
Oliver held up his hand. “Hey, Viola.”
“Oliver. Hey, I meant to call you.”
“Your mom needs me to do something?”
“Actually, I do.” She shifted the basket to her other hand.
“No problem.” He stretched out his shoulders as if ready to tackle whatever task she had for him. “What is it?”
She cringed. “You available New Year’s Eve day?”
“Does this involve me dressing up like Baby New Year? Because I’ll need to call my cousin to borrow his costume.”
“No, no. Nothing like that. This is more like a freelance job for a few hours.”
“I could use the money.” He crossed his arms. “What’ve you got?”
“You know Nick Mason and Holly St. Ives?”
“Of course.”
“I’m catering their wedding.”
“That’s awesome.” Oliver fist-bumped her. “Congrats on the gig.”
“Thanks. So. I’ve got some people to help me in the kitchen, but I’m short a few cater waiters. You know your way around a kitchen and have experience serving at Le Ruban Rouge, so I thought—”
“Yeah, sure. Sounds good.” He nodded once. “Count me in.”
“That would be amazing. You’re the best. I’ll text you the details.”
“You need any more waiters?” he asked. “I could check with my coworkers at the restaurant.”
“That would be perfect. Thank you.”
“I’ll be in touch.” He waved as he went on his way.
The heavy load weighing down Viola lightened considerably. She had her menu ready and had already placed orders for supplies. Now that she was securing staff for the event, she believed everything was falling into place.
I could actually pull this off. Her pulse quickened, and there was a slight hop in her step as she palmed a couple of pears for her basket.
“This is unacceptable.”
Viola turned at the sound of Jonas’s voice. His back was to her, and he was facing the produce table. Is he still making a big deal about the eggplants?
“You’re going to have to accept it,” Viola said to his back. “It’s a scientific fact: eggplants are berries.”
When Jonas faced her, his forehead was scrunched into wrinkles. He glared at Viola and pointed to the Bluetooth device in his ear. “No, Steve. The overhead is too high. Tell them to draw up a new proposal and email it to me first thing tomorrow.”
“Sorry,” Viola mouthed.
Jonas pursed his lips and twisted away from her. “I don’t care if they have to work all night.” He stomped toward the checkout, one solitary eggplant in hand.
Viola tucked her hair back, checking to see if anyone had witnessed the exchange. “Okay, then. Never mind.”