Worthy in Love: Pomegranate Café Romance, #1

Elle Hartford

Worthy in Love

Pomegranate Café Romance #1

First published by Phoenix & Kelpie Press 2023

Copyright © 2023 by Elle Hartford

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

First edition

ISBN: 979-8-9872017-1-8

This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

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This first-in-series is dedicated to the mythical patron of the Pomegranate . . .

and to everyone who needs a little reminder

that you, too, are worthy.

Contents

Prologue

1. Fairy Tale Falsehoods

2. Little Siblings and Other Disasters

3. You’ve Got Mail?

4. Options, Zero

5. Best Laid Plans

6. A Prisoner Here Myself

7. Pleasant Company

8. A Conspiracy of Friends

9. A Crafty Duel

10. Sugar and Spice

11. Reckless Abandon

12. Gentlemen and Ladies

13. Any Press . . .

14. Code (Valentine’s) Red

15. Magic is Better Than Boats?

16. Love and Murder

17. New Ground

18. What I Like About You

19. Big City, Small Town

20. A Surprise Bidder

21. Won at Auction

22. Valentine’s Magic

Epilogue

About the Author

Also by Elle Hartford

Prologue

Sakura

Oh, that special stress that comes from putting on a party, or arranging the debut of a new product—or both. Have you ever been there? Putting up decorations the night before, listening to the most upbeat music you can stand, and wondering how in the world you didn’t think to check that delivery of the exact thing that you need most to make tomorrow a success, which is now lost somewhere in the inscrutable abyss that is the mail system . . .

Well, in any case, that’s exactly where I was when this story starts.

Although, technically, you could say I’ve been scheming to make my big brother Ryuko fall in love since I was six. That was about twenty years ago now. Back then, I wanted him to marry the lady who sold ice cream cones on the boardwalk at the beach. Seeing as he’s a complete spoilsport—and was probably eleven at the time—that particular plan didn’t work out. We had to pay for our ice creams all summer.

But this is the time I got it right. I knew I would eventually. (Ryuko may have had his doubts, but then again, doesn’t he always?)

Anyway, you don’t want to hear about it from me. I’ll let Ryu and Mel take it from here!

One

Fairy Tale Falsehoods

Mel

I’m so sorry, Sakura, I said, for the third time that morning. I’ll do anything I can to make it up to you, I promise.

If my life was a proper fairy tale, this is where some kindly guardian would have stopped the whole thing. Maybe they would pause time, or put everyone else to sleep, or just shout out from the nearest rooftop: No, Emmelayne! Never promise a shadow witch that you’ll do anything she wants!

But despite living in a magical world, my life isn’t a fairy tale, and there was no one looking out for me that winter morning. I was as alone as a stump in a clearing, as my grandmother had liked to say—an expression that tickled her especially because she’d been a forest elf who often described herself as bark-colored. I’d just moved back to Belville and I was trying so hard to make sure my career as the local postmaster started on the right foot.

And losing a delivery of exotic tea for the Pomegranate Café the week it was supposed to open was not a sign of my luck turning around.

But fortunately, for a shadow witch, Sakura actually seemed very nice. I’m not sure really what shadow witches do, but Sakura hadn’t once threatened to turn me into a toad or anything. Aside from bright white hair, she looked like an average human twenty-something; but I suppose that’s not saying much, since I just look like a normal human with slightly pointy ears and rounded curves, despite my elf heritage. Still, Sakura seemed more like she did sugar plum fairy magic than curses, with her blue eyes and flushed cheeks.

And there’s another moment when a guardian spirit should have yelled out, Oh, Mel, you think so now—don’t be fooled!

But like I said, at the time I had no idea. And I felt awful.

I knew I should have had it delivered directly by the tea company, Sakura was muttering to herself. She was shorter than me, wearing a bright pink apron covered in cookie dough, and when she shook her head, her bobbed hair swung around her face. Most likely she was several years younger than I was, but the fact that she owned a business gave her an air of dignity. She went on, "Oh, but I don’t say that as a strike against you, Mel. I know you’re just starting out and things are hard. I mean, after all—we’re kind of in the same boat!"

We kind of were. At the beginning of the new year, just a few weeks previous, I’d shown up in town to take over the local post office. Its previous postmaster had left it in a complete shambles. So I totally got how Sakura, who was preparing for the grand opening of her new café in the center of town, might feel.

Except none of my work stuff got lost in the mail, I couldn’t help but think. I shifted guiltily from foot to foot, feeling ginormous and awkward on top of terribly irresponsible. Not to mention about fourteen years old, despite having celebrated my thirtieth birthday a few years ago. That’s really nice of you to say, Sakura, but really, it’s just unacceptable for things like this to happen. I don’t know how well the mail ran under the person before me—actually the reports had been pretty specific: it ran abysmally, and that’s why I was here to turn things around—"but this really isn’t how I want things to go. I’m determined to make it up to you. Your box will be delivered to you the moment we find it, of course, day or night. Just please, please don’t say anything to the regional center for Pastoria, not yet, let me handle it—"

You’re worried that I’ll report a failure on your part? Sakura tilted her head and watched me, just for a moment. Then she burst out in a laugh. "Oh, don’t worry! And call me Saki, all my friends do. I can call you Mel, right? I’m positive we’ll find a way to smooth things over. You’ll just owe me a favor, that’s all."

A huge favor, I said, immensely relieved that Sakura—Saki—wasn’t planning to inform my superiors. A loss like this so early in my tenure could jeopardize my career, and I really wanted this job in Belville. Contrary to what my parents back in New Dale might think.

Saki, meanwhile, was nodding. "Yes, just so. And you know what? This gives me an idea. Maybe tonight won’t be our grand opening after all."

You can do that? I asked. My head spun at the thought. Clearly, I could never run my own business. I preferred the predictable rules of the post office.

I can if I promise everyone something even better to come, Saki replied, her blue eyes gleaming. "I’ll tell everyone I’m delaying opening in order to prepare for a big event. A big Saint Valentine-themed event!"

Oh . . . well, that does sound like a good idea. I think we could find your delivery by then, I said cautiously. Saint Valentine’s Feast was an old traditional festival, the kind of holiday that was a big deal in rural places like Belville. It was also only a week away. I hated to over-promise. But I also hated that my failure made Saki feel like she had to delay her opening.

Don’t even worry about the delivery, Saki assured me, clasping her hands. "What I have in mind will be such a hit, everyone will forget all about that tea. We could just serve water and I bet they wouldn’t even notice. The café is going to host a Valentine date auction!"

Guardian spirit or no, looking back, I think that probably the over-brightness of her smile should have warned me that something big was coming. I should have known then that I was already in over my head.

Two

Little Siblings and Other Disasters

Ryuko

Ryu, big brother, are you doing anything? Because I have something even better!

The moment Sakura called out from the doorstep of our shared apartment, I knew I was going to hate whatever she had in mind.

Sakura would tell you that’s because I hate most things. That’s not true. You try growing up with a little sister like her. Someone has to be the reasonable one.

I mean, I guess given my past—and the fact that I’d ended up working as a part-time shop assistant and sharing an apartment with my adopted sister and her strange friend—you could argue that being reasonable didn’t get me very far. As a kid I was good at paper stuff, at least. Details and numbers and writing things down, stuff like that. The problem was that when you grow up a snakekin boy in a big city with few prospects, being good at paper stuff eventually just means counterfeiting.

I am good at counterfeiting.

I mean, I was.

Seeing as my skill at counterfeiting only got me in over my head with people I didn’t care for and landed me with court-mandated service for one of the companies we swindled, that wasn’t something I practiced any more.

These days I couldn’t even fake a smile. When Sakura found me slouched over the kitchen table, peeling a winter squash, I grimaced. Whenever you call me ‘big brother,’ the answer is automatically no, I said. Also, your pal Glacial is in the back room trying to nap. You should keep it down.

But Sakura, as usual, was too distracted to listen. I think she has a special filter in her brain that cancels out words like no or should.

Instead, she’d noticed the halves of squash on the cutting board. Stew again? How very—seasonal, Saki declared, not hiding the scrunch in her nose. Squash soup isn’t my favorite either, but I liked to think I made it well. I glowered at her. She cleared her throat. "What if I told you that you could have a really nice, fancy dinner? Actually two fancy dinners!"

I continued glaring at her. There’s a stereotype out there that snakekin—people whose ancestors had snake-like qualities—are quick to anger. That’s not true. For me, being snakekin just means I have scales covering my head instead of hair. It doesn’t give me any special benefits. Except an acquired patience. With Sakura, I’ve found that if you wait long enough, eventually the other shoe drops.

I’m hosting a big party at the café! she enthused, grabbing a spoon and dropping into the chair across from me.

Knowing that she planned to help by scooping seeds from the squash, I passed her the half I’d already peeled. Let me guess, I said. It’s a Saint Valentine party.

How did you know?

Because it’s you. I leveled another pointed look at her. Even though we had faced some dark things as kids—like a horrible accident that left her with prosthetic legs, and my misguided descent into crime—Sakura’s always been obsessed with stuff like true love. When she was a teenager she disappeared for years, studying magic. Ever since she came back into my life, she’s only doubled down on her passion for matchmaking. Saint Valentine’s Day, with its love and flowers and other sentimental stuff, was right up her alley. I was honestly surprised