Mia Devlin ran Café Book the way she ran her life. With a style born out of instinct, and largely for her personal amusement. She was a crafty businesswoman who enjoyed making a profit. But always on her own terms.

What bored her, she ignored. What intrigued her, she pursued.

At the moment, Nell Channing intrigued her.

If Nell had been exaggerating her skills, Mia would have fired her as quickly as she’d hired her, and with no regret. She may have, if the spirit moved her, helped Nell secure a job elsewhere. But that wouldn’t have taken much time, or interfered with her business.

She’d have taken that step only because something about Nell had tugged at her the instant those big blue eyes met hers.

Injured innocence. That had been Mia’s first impression, and she trusted her first impressions implicitly. Competence as well, Mia thought, though the confidence was a little shaky.

Still, once Nell had suited up and started work at the café, she’d steadied in that area, too.

Mia observed her through the afternoon, noted that she handled the food orders, the customers, the cash register, and the baffling mystery of the espresso machine smoothly.

They’d need to spruce her up a bit, Mia decided. They were casual on the island, but the ancient jeans were a bit too laid-back for Mia’s personal taste.

Satisfied for the moment, Mia walked back into the café kitchen. It impressed her that the counters and appliances were clean. Jane had never managed to be a tidy cook, even though most of the baked goods had been prepared by her off-site.

“Nell?”

Taken by surprise, Nell jolted and spun around from the stove, where she’d been scrubbing burners. Her cheeks flushed as she looked at Mia and the young woman beside her.

“Didn’t mean to startle you. This is Peg. She works the counter from two to seven.”

“Oh. Hello.”

“Hi. Jeez, I can’t believe Jane and Tim are just leaving. New York City!” Peg sounded a bit envious. She was little and perky, with a mop of curly hair bleached nearly white. “Jane made awesome blueberry muffins.”

“Yes, well, Jane and her muffins aren’t here anymore. I need to talk to Nell now, so you’re in charge of the café.”

“No problem. Catch you later, Nell.”

“Why don’t we use my office? We’ll get to those details. We’re open from ten to seven, summer hours. In the winter we cut back and close at five. Peg prefers the afternoon shift. She likes to party and isn’t a morning person. In any case, since we start serving at ten, I’ll need you here in the morning.”