Christmas at the Candied Apple Café

“Sofia, for helping me out, why don’t you take one of these Advent calendars as a thank you?”

She looked up at her father and he nodded.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Now you’ll be able to count down until Santa arrives.”

Sofia shook her head. “I don’t believe in Santa.”

Iona noticed the fleeting look on Mads’ face but it was too quick for her to really analyze.

“That’s fine. It’s still a box of lots of chocolates.”

“I like candy,” Sofia said.

“Me too,” Iona added. “Can I get you two something from the café? We have a rich seven-layer chocolate cake that is better than you can imagine. Hot chocolate, coffee, tea, cookies, brownies are available too.”

“Coffee for me,” Mads said.

“Hot chocolate,” Sofia said. “And cake, if I’m allowed, Papa?”

“Cake would be fine,” Mads said.

“Great. I’ll see you two in a few minutes.”

Iona turned away from the father and daughter and concentrated on weaving her way through the crowded shop floor to the registers, to stock the advent calendars on the countertop behind the staff.

“I thought you’d deserted me,” Nick said.

He was one of their new hires for the season. A college student who was hardworking and happy and that they would let take shifts around his courses.

“Never. There are too many people here to leave you all alone.”

“Good. Once I know the products better, I might be able to handle it.”

“Well, I’m going to get Hayley out front here to help you,” Iona said, waving to Hayley to join them. “She knows the products better than anyone.”

Nick turned to help another customer as Hayley arrived behind the counter.

“What’s up?”

“Mads Eriksson is here. He wants to have a chat and I told him I don’t have a lot of time, could you work back here while I do that?”

“He must really want us to be partners with his hotel chain,” Hayley said.

“I think so too. It’s good for us and seeing the shop so busy gives us a better place to start negotiating from,” Iona added.

“It sure does. Okay, I’ve got this. Go and do your thing,” Hayley said.

“I intend to. Also, Nick is newish so he might need your guidance on some of the products,” Iona said.

“He’s in good hands,” Hayley replied. “Go work your magic.”

She wished she did have magic, but everything she’d gotten had been from working hard and trying to prove to herself that she was just as good at business as her father was.

Chapter 2 (#u173266f8-c5f7-5e70-858d-70731988ef88)

Sofia watched Iona as she approached their table with a tray of hot drinks and snacks. He hoped it was only his imagination but he thought he saw a wistful longing in his daughter’s eyes.

He got up and went to Iona. “I’ll take that.”

She gave him a smile and tipped her head, the bells on the end of her hat jingling as she did so. She handed him the tray. “Thank you. Hey, before we get back over there, what’s the deal with Santa and Sofia?”

“She … her mom had been sick with cancer since Sofia was two and she died last Christmas. It just sort of turned into a thing in kindergarten where she thought if she asked Santa to cure Gill then she’d get better. Gill passed away two days after Christmas.”

“Oh, Mads. I’m so sorry,” she said, squeezing his shoulder. “I won’t bring Santa up again.”

He glanced over at Sofia, who was playing a game on his phone. She often logged onto his device whenever she wanted to play. “It’s okay if you do. I think she’s trying to figure out what’s real and what’s not.”

“Fair enough,” Iona said. “I know asking about that probably wasn’t what you anticipated at the start of our meeting but I wanted to be careful about what I said around her.”

Mads nodded. “Fair enough. Does this mean you see me as a person now and not a corporate entity?”

“I already did. Part of the reason I took your call was to see what you could bring to the Candied Apple Café, not what the Loughman Group could,” Iona said over her shoulder as she walked toward the table.

The fur-lined, red velvet skirt she wore swished back and forth around her legs and he noticed that the bells on her hat were still jingling. The customers in the café all smiled as she walked past and for the first time this December, he felt like smiling himself.

Sofia put the phone down as he arrived at the table and Iona took the smaller mug of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and red and green colored sugar, placing it in front of Sofia, then added the slice of chocolate cake. She put a mug down in front of his spot and then took the last mug for herself.

Sofia held the cocoa loosely in her hands, one of her inky black curls falling over her eyes as she leaned forward to blow on the hot drink. Losing her mother had been a deep blow to her and Mads had wanted to protect his daughter from ever experiencing that kind of heartbreak again.

He’d had to make choices when Gill had died and one of them was no more pretending with his daughter. He’d had enough of doctors who made promises that couldn’t be kept. Nurses who had told him things to make him feel better that weren’t based on truth. But he’d never expected that reality to kill her joy of Christmas and he’d been struggling this holiday season, since she’d been very vocal about not believing any more.

But he’d worry about that later. He was here for business. The sooner he got this finished, maybe he’d be able to do something with Sofia that would help to get her into the holiday spirit.

“How’s the cake, Sof?” he asked as she finished her first bite.

“Yummy,” she said, turning her attention to it. He’d allowed her nanny Jessie to run into the Ralph Lauren Polo store a block or so away to pick up an order she’d placed and Mads knew she’d be back soon and then he’d be able to talk to Iona about the Loughman Group’s proposition.

“Glad to hear it,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Iona, darling, the shop looks fabulous,” an older woman, probably in her sixties though she looked more like she was in her forties, came over to their table. She had the same reddish hair as Iona but it was shot through with strands of gray. Her hair was pulled back at the nape in a chignon and she had on a slim-fitting sheath that flattered her figure. She wore a strand of pearls and arrived on a wave of expensive-smelling perfume.

“Thank you, Mom,” Iona said, standing up to hug her mother.

Mads stood up as well.

“Mom, this is Mads Eriksson of the Loughman Group and his daughter Sofia. Mads, this is Valentina Summerlin.”