The Mistletoe Problem

By Geneva Vand

Noah's winter holiday seasons tend to be busy but uneventful. Most of his time is spent running his mildly magical gift shop and trying not to obsess over Robin, his much too appealing seasonal employee. When Robin bursts into the back room of the shop to tell him that something is wrong with the mistletoe, Noah realizes this year is going to be a bit more interesting. But it's fine. All he has to do is retrieve all the spelled mistletoe before it causes kiss-filled chaos all over town while keeping his hands—and lips—off Robin. Simple, right? No problem at all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Geneva Vand
• Release date: Sep 7, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201365189

Book preview

The Mistletoe Problem

THE MISTLETOE PROBLEM

GENEVA VAND

Contents

The Mistletoe Problem

Day One

Day Two

Day Three

Day Four

Day Five

Want More?

Titles by Geneva Vand

About the Author

The Mistletoe Problem

Noah's winter holiday seasons tend to be busy but uneventful. Most of his time is spent running his mildly magical gift shop and trying not to obsess over Robin, his much too appealing seasonal employee. When Robin bursts into the back room of the shop to tell him that something is wrong with the mistletoe, Noah realizes this year is going to be a bit more interesting. But it's fine. All he has to do is retrieve all the spelled mistletoe before it causes kiss-filled chaos all over town while keeping his hands—and lips—off Robin. Simple, right? No problem at all.

Copyright © 2020 by Geneva Vand

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Editor: Charlie Knight, http://cknightwrites.com/

Cover: Natasha Snow Designs, www.natashasnowdesigns.com

Formatter: Leslie Copeland

Day One

THE DISCOVERY OF THE PROBLEM

I frowned at the computer screen, staring at the sales numbers for peppermint candy sticks. Again.

If old Mrs. Harns had warned me how much paperwork and how many weird decisions came with owning Charming, I might not have bought the store.

No, that wasn't true. I had loved Charming ever since I was a kid, trailing after my mom and looking at all the neat things on the shelves. I still remembered the first time I'd stepped inside by myself. I'd walked past on my way home from school when I was fifteen. I glanced in the window and saw a piece of fluorite and stopped dead in my tracks. It had been...glowing. Sort of. Just sort of softly luminescing and feeling happy.

I had gone into the store because I had to touch it but then stood with my hand hovering over the stone, afraid to do so, until Mrs. Harns had come over to see what I was doing.

Oh, she had said. Your mother and I weren't sure if you were going to manifest the gift.

I had stared at her, confused and nervous. The gift?

Magic. She had smiled sweetly and pressed the stone into my palm, closing my fingers around it. Then she had sent me home to talk to my mother.

That’s how I found out we were witches and that we had magic. But magic wasn't some big, powerful, showy force. It was gentle and subtle most of the time. It was simple, quiet things. Like lavender salt in your bath or the perfect loaf of bread. Like holly hung with intent near a doorway to ward off ill will. Or a softly glowing, happy spike of fluorite catching the eye of a newly awakened witch.

That quiet nature of magic was what allowed the shop to hide in plain sight. To those who knew, we sold magical tools and gifts, some amusing in-jokes, and some common knickknacks. To those who didn't, Charming was an interesting gift shop that sold a weird assortment of mythology and history books and really cool holiday stuff.

The store was wildly successful.

That success and my long fondness for it where why, when Mrs. Harns offered to sell to a young man with a slightly dusty business and accounting degree and a hard-won pile of savings, I had said yes.

So now here I was, sitting at my small desk in the back room of Charming trying to decide if we needed to order more candy canes while also trying to figure out if we had paid Higginson for the wreaths because he was sure we hadn't, but I was pretty sure we had.

And ah ha! There was the scan of the check he'd cashed. We'd paid him about three weeks ago on November twenty-first. I zoomed in on the screen so that was the only info visible and took a screenshot.

A quick email later, I was staring at the bulk pricing for the candy cane sticks made and sold by the