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More guilt washed over him. How could he ask his employees for donations to charity when he might have to lay some of them off soon?
Sawyer wished he could go one day without thinking about all of the troubles in his life. Especially at this time of year. He cared about each and every person on his staff, almost as if they were family. Until he knew they were taken care of, he’d never stop worrying.
Once again, he pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind and continued his lap of the square. Every business boasted wreaths, garlands and decorations in their windows. From experience, he knew they would all be outlined in twinkly lights, as well. Lampposts, benches and pretty much all free space in the town square had been devoted to the holiday cause.
He had to admit the festival was always fun, but this year the town council had gone all-out. A band was on a stage playing lively carols. Some of the businesses displayed tables and stands outside of their doors with special festival prices. Stands were set up throughout the square selling holiday cookies and other baked goods. Sawyer knew Carissa had provided some of them. She’d left Thanksgiving early last night to bake. They also had coffee, tea, cider and hot chocolate.
Sawyer hoped that with all the beverages outside there wouldn’t be a line in The Brewside, but as he pushed through the door, he saw he was out of luck. As the town’s favorite source of caffeine and a great gossip hotspot, the place was always busy.
Situated between a shoe store and a high-end clothing shop, the coffeehouse had the same look of the other shops around the square. They were all painted white with blue shutters. He noticed quite a few pots of poinsettias beside the entrances.
In Sawyer’s opinion, each store on the square was unique, but The Brewside was the only one that felt like home. It was cozy with its quaint decor, raised ceiling made up of exposed beams and dark wood floors. Tony had decorated it with antiques like old vinyl records, framed black-and-white photos and old-fashioned kitchen items. His favorite piece was the refurbished brass cash register that sat on the long bar.
The staff had already put up their Christmas tree in one corner. Sawyer knew that Tony encouraged the local elementary school kids to donate homemade ornaments. Stockings with the employees’ names hung behind the counter, and poinsettias dominated every free space.
He offered a wave and a nod to Tony, owner of the joint, and got in line. As he waited his turn, he tuned into a conversation between two women about the Bayside Blogger.
“I mean, she didn’t really write anything scandalous today,” one of them said.
“Well, yesterday was Thanksgiving. Maybe she’s in a food coma like the rest of us. Or maybe she went to the amazing Black Friday sales at the outlets at four in the morning like we did,” the other woman contributed.
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