The Blue Farm Café was its usual bustling self after school, the smell of fresh coffee and baked goods mingling with the soft hum of conversations. Behind the counter, Joe was wiping down the espresso machine, his brow furrowed in mild frustration. Ginny Miller had just rushed in, her bag slung haphazardly over her shoulder.

"Ginny," Joe said, giving her a pointed look. "You're late. Again."

Ginny groaned, tying her apron around her waist. "I know, I know. I got held up at school."

"You're always getting held up," Joe replied, crossing his arms. "You're lucky I like you, kid, because if it were anyone else, I'd have fired them by now."

Ginny rolled her eyes but didn't argue. She knew Joe wasn't actually mad; he just liked giving her a hard time. "I'm here now, okay? What do you need me to do?"

"Tables," Joe said, nodding toward the back. "They're a mess."

As Ginny grabbed a rag and headed to the tables, the café door jingled, and in walked Georgia Randolph, her presence as commanding as ever. She was dressed to the nines in a tailored blazer and heels, her hair perfectly styled despite the casual setting.

"Joe," Georgia greeted, striding up to the counter. "Got a minute?"

Joe raised an eyebrow. "Do I even want to know?"

Georgia leaned on the counter, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "I might've done somethin' last night."

Joe sighed deeply, already sensing trouble. "What did you do, Georgia?"

"I, uh... wrote a few things on Holt Scotto's truck," Georgia admitted, flashing a guilty smile. "With chalk."

Joe's hand froze mid-wipe. He set the cloth down slowly and gave her a look that could only be described as exasperated disappointment. "You wrote on his truck? Georgia, are you trying to get yourself arrested?"

"Oh, come on, Joe," Georgia said, waving a hand dismissively. "It was chalk. Washable. Hardly a crime."

Joe crossed his arms. "You've gone from deflating his tires to vandalizing his truck. What's next? Egging his house?"

Georgia opened her mouth to respond, then stopped, clearly considering it. "Not a bad idea."

Joe groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Georgia, I'm serious. You keep this up, and Holt's gonna call the cops. You'll end up in jail."

Georgia straightened up, her tone softening. "Alright, fine. I'll behave. But, for the record, he deserved it."

Joe sighed but couldn't hide the faintest hint of a smirk. "You know, I should be mad, but honestly? It's kind of a bold move."

"Thank you," Georgia said, grinning triumphantly. "That's all I needed to hear."

The door jingled again, and Jenna Deblin walked in, her sharp eyes immediately zeroing in on the pastry case. "Joe, please tell me you've got muffins today," she said, stepping up to the counter.

"We've got muffins," Joe confirmed, grabbing a tray and setting one on the counter. "Georgia, you want one too? Fresh out of the oven, no sneezing involved this time."

Jenna paused mid-reach, her brow furrowing. "Wait—sneezing? What's this about sneezing?"

Joe sighed, shaking his head. "Holt. He sneezed on an entire tray of muffins last week. Had to throw them all out."

Jenna's face twisted in disgust. "That man is a menace."

"You're tellin' me," Georgia muttered, taking a bite of her muffin.

Jenna joined her at one of the tables, muffin in hand. They sat in companionable silence for a moment before Jenna leaned closer. "So, I heard about the truck."

Georgia blinked. "What about the truck?"

"You know," Jenna said, her lips twitching into a smirk. "The chalk. 'Lunatic,' 'Man-Child,' 'World's Biggest Bully.' Bold choices."

Georgia stared at her. "How did you know?"

"Georgia, please," Jenna said, rolling her eyes. "This town's got a gossip network faster than the internet. I heard about it before breakfast."

Georgia groaned, dropping her head into her hands. "Great. Just what I need—more people talkin' about me."

Jenna grinned. "Oh, don't worry. Most people think it's hilarious. And honestly? I'm on your side. Holt had it comin'."

Georgia perked up. "Really?"

"Absolutely," Jenna said. "But... if you really want to get under his skin, I've got an idea."

Georgia raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

Jenna leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Holt prides himself on that ridiculous truck of his, right? He acts like it's his baby."

Georgia nodded. "Unfortunately, yes."

"Well," Jenna continued, a mischievous glint in her eye, "what if we left a little... surprise for him? Something harmless but annoying."

"Like what?" Georgia asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Oh, I don't know," Jenna said casually. "Maybe fill the truck bed with confetti. Or balloons. Something that screams, 'You messed with the wrong woman.'"

Georgia laughed, the idea already taking root in her mind. "You're dangerous, Jenna."

"And you love it," Jenna replied, taking another bite of her muffin.

As the two women plotted, Joe glanced over from the counter, shaking his head but smiling nonetheless. He knew better than to intervene. When Georgia and Jenna teamed up, Holt Scotto didn't stand a chance.