Falling for the Boss: Sweet Mountain, Montana, #2

By Olivia Sands

Misha Renard is on the run. The shy woman never lingers in the endless string of towns she passes through. She stays just long enough to earn enough cash to safely move on to her next stop.
Sweet Mountain, Montana, should be no exception.
Except she found a job she really likes. It comes with a decent place to sleep and the best boss ever: Chip Smithfield, born and raised in Sweet Mountain, Montana, sweet, caring, and handsome man who doesn't ask too many questions.
But the trouble chasing Misha catches up to her in Sweet Mountain.
It's time for her to decide. Should she trust Chip to keep her safe, or is it time to hit the road again?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lady O Publishing
• Release date: Oct 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215787762

Book preview

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CHAPTER 1

Misha Renard girded herself to enter every business on Main Street until she found some kind of temporary position. One that would let her work without sharing her information. She was afraid Sweet Mountain wasn’t that kind of town. Everything seemed idyllic, and probably conventional. She wasn’t certain she could avoid using her identity. If she didn’t have a choice, she would give her name and social but if she could avoid it, it would be perfect. She wanted to stay anonymous as long as possible.

She started with Toys and Trinkets, which was the first shop. When Misha stepped inside, her senses were assaulted by all the colors and a chaotic world of chattering noises, music, and loud comments from what appeared to be a doll nearby.

She moved closer to examine it, and it told her she had a funny nose. You’re a rude little thing.

Behind her, there was a soft laugh. He is, but ‘Insult Isaac’ is quite popular.

Misha managed a small smile as she turned to face the woman who had spoken to her. She appeared to be Asian, perhaps Japanese, and she spoke with a New York accent. It was quite a dichotomy in a small Montana town.

She cleared her throat. I guess I can see why some kids might like that sort of thing.

I guess it’s the same reason some people like insult comics, though Isaac isn’t mean.

She nodded but didn’t really care to dissect the marketing appeal of this children’s toy.

I was wondering if you’re hiring?

The woman, whose name tag said Mochi, gave her a regretful shake of her head. Her expression seemed genuine when she said, I’m sorry, but I just don’t have the funds. The business is doing all right, but it’s enough to support me, not me and an employee.

Misha nodded her acceptance, taking a quick look around. It seems like a really fun place to work.

Mochi smiled. It is. I’ve always enjoyed playing with toys.

You’re from New York?

Mochi laughed. I do such a good job of hiding it, don’t I?

Do you mind me asking how you ended up here? She was genuinely curious. Sweet Mountain, Montana was thousands of miles away from New York City. Misha couldn’t imagine that someone content in New York would be happy with the small-town vibes of Sweet Mountain. If her car hadn’t been so close to running out of gas, she probably wouldn’t have stopped there at all.

I came here on vacation and loved it so much that I moved. I sold everything in New York and decided to open Toys and Trinkets here.

Good for you for pursuing your dream, Misha said.

It had been so long since she had a real dream, besides putting distance between herself and him, that she wasn’t entirely certain how one developed it anymore. Of course, there were still things she wanted, but they seemed abstract and out of reach these days.

Thank you for your time.

You’re welcome. Why don’t you try Sammy at Sweets and Treats—she could be hiring.

She nodded her thanks for the lead, leaving the store and heading there next. Her stomach rumbled as soon as she stepped inside, reminding her the cup of noodle soup she had for breakfast using tap water from the gas station hadn’t been very filling. Also that meal had been hours ago. Chocolate and huckleberries tempted her senses, making her stomach growl. She had to ignore them as she moved toward the counter.

There was a line there, and then an older woman greeted her a few minutes later. Good afternoon, darling. Welcome to Sweet Mountain.

Misha nodded, not really surprised that she stood out as an outsider. It was unlikely that the people of Sweet Mountain didn’t know everybody, so anytime someone new arrived, that person was noticed at once.

What’ll ya’ have? We have a special on our waffle cones today. Normally, you pick two scoops, but today, you get a third for free. Then you can have all the toppings you want.

Misha’s stomach rumbled even more loudly, and she was sorely tempted, but she doubted the woman was going to give her ice cream just because she smiled nicely at her. She shook her head, declining the offer.

Are you Sammy?

The woman nodded, clearly surprised she knew her name.

Misha explained right away.

Mochi at the toy shop thought you might be hiring, so she sent me over.

The woman looked her up and down for a minute. You’re a bitty thing, aren’t you? Do you think you can handle the machines?

I’m game to try. There was a stirring in her chest as she dared hope the older woman might give her a job.

We don’t really have any budget to take on someone new, said an old man from behind Sammy as he turned to face them. He held bins of toppings, likely planning to refill them. It’s nothing personal, honey, but with business as it is nowadays, we just can’t spare the money for an extra income.

Misha nodded slowly. I understand. Of course. Thank you.

Wait, said Sammy. I don’t believe I’ve seen you in here before?

Misha’s stomach knotted with apprehension as she shook her head. No. I’m just passing through.

Well, you must try the huckleberry ice cream before you leave.

She shook her head again. Thank you, but money is short for me too.

For her, it wasn’t just the economic downturn. But she couldn’t and didn’t want to launch into an explanation of why her budget was so lean, and why she was moving from town to town. Thank you for the offer. Maybe she would have a chance to find enough money to buy a cone before she left.

Not so fast, said the man. He nodded to the case, gesturing to the woman she assumed was his wife. Sammy’s going to give you a scoop. It’s a welcome-to-town sort of thing, young lady.

While Misha had a difficult time believing anyone handed out ice cream to new people all the time, she was hungry enough and interested enough in trying the flavor that pride wouldn’t allow her to demur again. Instead, she took the scoop Sammy placed into a cup for her.

Don’t you want some toppings, darlin’? the man asked.

She eyed them for a moment before slowly handing back the cup. It wasn’t like she thought they were going to keep it, but her stomach was rumbling. Perhaps some almonds, and is that huckleberry sauce?

It sure is, handmade by Grammy Waters from my knitting club.

Some of that too please. She took it once Joe had added the toppings and nodded her thanks. I really appreciate it.

Good luck with your job search, honey. Marge may need someone at the café.

It’s Running Wolf Pancake House now, said Joe with a hint of scolding.

Sammy glared up at the man, confirming for Misha they were married by their manner with each other—exasperated affection. Well forgive me for forgetting. It was Sweet Mountain Café for a long time.

Her husband appeared amused. But it’s been Running Wolf Pancake House for almost a decade now.

Misha smiled at them, lifting a hand and waving as she left the ice cream shop. She paused before moving on to the place they had mentioned, leaning against a light pole while she ate the ice cream. It was delicious, if a bit cloying, and it was way too sweet considering how little she had eaten that day. To her regret, she wasn’t able to finish it, because she risked being really sick if she did. With a sigh, she placed the last third and the cup into a nearby trashcan before moving down the street.

CHAPTER 2

On Main Street, Misha caught sight of a yoga studio, but she didn’t know a thing about yoga, so she was certainly in no position to ask for a job there. Maybe to clean mats or check people in, but it seemed like a small business, and she got the feeling most of the businesses in tiny Sweet Mountain were one or two people shows, and they wouldn’t be looking for a lot of extra help. It was a daunting prospect, because she didn’t have enough money to move on until she earned some.

Her stomach was twisting with anxiety and the remnants of the overly sweet ice cream when she stepped into the restaurant a few minutes later. She swallowed down the creep of bile as she waited to be noticed by the gray-haired lady pouring coffee for customers at the counter. She appeared to have been there, perhaps even in the same spot, for many years. There was something timeless about her that suggested she was more than a waitress at the shop. It was almost like she was a feature of it.

She looked up, catching sight of Misha.

She nodded to her and said, Have a seat, and I’ll get your order in a minute.

She didn’t have money to make an order, but she didn’t want to blurt out her reason for being there, so Misha climbed onto one of the rotating stools and sat down. It was uncomfortable, reflecting years of previous bottoms having worn grooves in the seat, but it was obviously freshly upholstered, and the entire restaurant, much like everything she’d seen of the town so far, was well-maintained.

After a few minutes, the woman moved closer, allowing Misha to glance at her name tag. It did identify her as Marge, and it said she was the head server and had been for over forty years. No wonder she seemed like a permanent fixture in the place, even to an outsider.

What can I get you, honey? She was already flipping over a coffee cup in front of Misha and starting to pour.

Nothing for me, thanks. I was hoping you might be hiring?

Marge frowned. I can’t say that we are. I’m sorry, but we haven’t been hiring for a few months, not since we found the last dishwasher. Manny’s a good, hard-working young man, and I don’t anticipate needing to replace him any time soon. What can you do?

I’ve done a little bit of everything.

After embarking on this trip, and spending so many months learning everything she’d been tasked with upon convincing people to give her a chance, she truly had learned a wide range of skills. Before that, she had been stifled and not allowed to do much of anything besides manage a household to someone else’s expectations.

Let me think about it for a minute. It seems like I recall someone mentioning a job opening the other day. As she spoke, Marge moved, taking the coffee pot with her, and refilled two more customers. By the time she fetched a basket of jelly for another customer and delivered plates for yet another, Misha was on the verge of slipping out. She figured Marge might’ve forgotten her, and the woman was clearly busy.

Before she could do so, Marge made her way back to her. Chip Smithfield.

She blinked. Pardon?

"He’s the one who’s hiring, or he was. He could still be. I haven’t