For the rest of the day, Christina and Wink were busy unpacking boxes, checking off the inventory list, sticking on price labels, and placing items on the shelves. Few customers came in, but when they did, they bought piles of presents. It was a good day.

“Mom said she wants to ask you a favor,” Wink said.

“She does?”

“You know the gingerbread house in the middle of your table? Did you make it?”

“I did! Years ago. It’s real gingerbread. But it’s so old no one could eat it now.”

“Do you have, like, a recipe and instructions for making it? Because Mom really liked your Christmas cookies, but she wants to do something extra special with me.”

Not that she’s competitive or anything, Christina thought with an inward smile.

“Of course,” Christina said. “I’ve got the directions at home. I’ll snap a photo of them and send them to your mom.” With a crooked smile, she added, “I’ll get your mom’s email address from your uncle Andy.”

“Cool.” Wink skipped away at four o’clock, while there was still some light in the sky.

At six, Christina closed the shop. The poor wilted white roses had not revived in the vase of water, but she wrapped them in paper, laid them in the bike’s basket, and took them home anyway. She wanted to keep them until the petals fell off. Roses from Andy! Although of course, they were really for the Christmas party.

—

That night was a relaxing one for Christina, and she was glad. She had presents to wrap and cards to send. She biked to the Easy Street Cantina to pick up tacos to take home for dinner, which she ate in her robe while she zoned out on TV. She gave Mittens a special helping of treats, read part of a novel, and went to bed early.

She ordered herself not to think about Andy Bittlesman.

She thought about him anyway.

—

The next morning, she was in her shop, chatting with Freddy who brought the mail, when her heart sank.

At the top of the pile was a very business-looking envelope addressed to Christina Antonioni from Bittlesman and Company.

Inside, she found a letter informing her that her building and the other three buildings on the wharf had recently been purchased by Oscar Bittlesman. As of February 1, her rent would be raised by ten percent.

She couldn’t breathe.

Her cell buzzed.

“Did you get the letter?” Mimi asked.

“Just now. I think my head exploded.”

“Come here at lunch. We all must talk.”

—

Christina texted Wink to tell her not to come in today. She might spend any free time on the phone with a lawyer or one of the Shedders and she didn’t want the girl to hear her in a bad mood, and she was definitely in a bad mood.

—