A Christmas Exchange

By A.J. Morrow

Rachel works most days at a café in the middle of a small British town. Working alongside her is Emily, the confident American Rachel has secretly been in love with for months. Shy and often anxious, Rachel doesn’t know if she could ever act on her feelings, even as the rest of her coworkers raise their eyebrows in disbelief.

As the holiday season approaches, Rachel’s best friend Ryan suggests a secret Santa among the workers and, while she’s certain the game is rigged, Rachel can’t help but be happy when she picks Emily’s name out of the bag. Even after the anxiety about what to get her kicks in.

Rachel has to figure out a present while not making it obvious she got Emily, and what follows is a series of awkward conversations, totally subtle flirting, and more than one Christmas-themed outing. Will she choose the right gift and come to terms with her feelings? Or will she remain in the friend-zone forever?

• Language: English
• Publisher: JMS Books LLC
• Release date: Dec 18, 2021
• ISBN: 9781646569748

Book preview

Chapter 1

Warm yellow light spilled out onto the snow from the shop window. The street itself was quiet, with only a few late season shoppers wandering along the uneven cobblestones, and Rachel couldn’t help but be entranced by the flakes of snow falling gently against the glass.

Something stirred in the distance. A figure—a woman—waded across the street, bag in hand. Rachel squinted, trying to figure out who it was. When she realized that it was Emily, her coworker and friend, she smiled.

Emily was tall and muscular, a natural athlete, with thick brown hair and glasses. Her nose was long and wide, with freckles clustered over the bridge, and her eyes were only a shade or two darker than her hair. Dressed in an all-black version of the coffee shop’s uniform, she cut a striking figure against the snow.

Psst, Rach— Ryan, one of the other baristas on shift, nudged Rachel out of her trance—you’re staring again.

What?

You’re staring out the window. You’re meant to be clearing tables.

Oh, right. Rachel smiled sheepishly and turned back to her work. The late evening had sent most of their patrons home, but the Hideout Cafe was popular enough that there was still work to be done.

What’s got into you? Ryan asked. He whisked himself away from her and onto the next table, one arm slung casually around a tray used for carrying empty plates.

Rachel shrugged. Just tired. Phil gave me too many shifts this week.

Mm-hmm. And it’s got nothing whatsoever to do with the hot goth coworker currently walking through the snow?

Nothing whatsoever.

Ryan gestured at the window, where Emily, now right outside, could be seen stomping the snow off her boots. Are you sure?

Oh, shut up. Rachel gave him a playful shove, glad that the only people left in the shop were regulars who wouldn’t mind a bit of horseplay, if they even noticed. I thought you said we were meant to be clearing tables?

Ryan opened his mouth but, before he could answer, the bell above the door rang. It was a light, airy sound, easy to miss beneath the chatter and clinking of plates, but Rachel noticed immediately. Her eyes darted over to Emily, whose boots were now clear of snow, as she pushed open the door.

Hi Emily! she said, just a little too eagerly.

Hey.

Rachel scrabbled for something to say as Emily made her way to the back door to clock in.

Are you excited for your shift? she said eventually.

Ryan groaned from behind her.

Yeah, I guess, said Emily, her American accent showing. She paused, eyeing Rachel up and down, then smirked. More so now I know that you’re here.

Oh, uh—

Rachel’s eyes grew wide. Was that flirting? That was definitely flirting—no arguments about it, right? But what if she was just being friendly? What if Rachel was just massively misreading the situation?

I’m glad you’re here, too, she stammered out. Emily, of course, had already disappeared into the back of the shop.

Oh wow. I actually can’t watch this. Ryan looked like he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or just stare in shock. You’re useless. Absolutely useless. You’re the most hopeless flirter I’ve ever met.

I wasn’t flirting, Ryan.

"No, you weren’t—but she definitely was!"

Rachel had to resist the urge to murder him—that would almost certainly get her fired, after all. Instead, she just glared at the back of his head as he moved away, and wiped down her table with unusual vigor. Emily wasn’t flirting with me, she said, she’s not into me like that.

Ryan snorted. You may be in denial, Rach, but those of us who live in the real world are busy formulating plans.

Plans? What plans?

You’ll see. He grabbed his tray and darted off, leaving Rachel to the