“I did,” Johanna responded. “As I said, adequate.”
Johanna leered at Alice. Her eyes grew narrower with each passing moment. Alice matched her gaze. Their eyes locked into an unrelenting, unseen combat of who would blink first. The tension was too much for Hugo.
“That’s a shame,” Hugo interjected. “They’re world famous. Maybe it was a bad batch.”
“Maybe I’m loyal to my own meatballs,” Johanna replied as she gave a few taps to her cloak clasp.
“Maybe you can give Hugo some of yours to try. Like a taste test,” Alice interjected. “A competition for world’s best meatball. It’s going to be hard to dethrone a meatball that’s famous in Italy.”
“Maybe.” Johanna gave Alice a scornful look. “Enjoy your evening.” She turned and headed to the exit.
“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” Alice held up her left hand and readied to snap her fingers.
“Don’t!” Hugosaid in a hushed tone.
“She’s not worth it,” Alice replied as she picked up her menu. “So, about those meatballs.”
“Hmm,” Hugo replied. “You gave me an idea.”
“Good or bad?”
Hugo grinned at Alice.
Chapter 17
Christmas Cookie Exchange
“You know I’m not a kitchen witch, right?” Alice asked.
“There’s a difference in witches?” Hugo responded as he sifted through her kitchen cabinets looking for mixing bowls, measuring cups, and other utensils.
“Of course there are. We have our own areas of expertise. It’s like our profession,” Alice answered. “There are apothecary witches, like me, who brew potions. Then you have kitchen witches who specialize in baking. Green herbal witches grow things. Medicinal witches. Coven witches like Ez who keep knowledge and secrets. Cosmic—”
“Cosmic?” Hugo gave Alice a puzzled look.
“They specialize in astrology and tarot and stuff like that,” Alice answered. “Then there are the eclectics who dabble in a bit of everything, but master none of it.”
“So, what is this? Like a major in college or something?”
“No! Not like a major.” She paused and thought for a moment. “Yeah. Actually, kind of like a major. You pick an area you want to focus in and study it. I picked apothecary brewing, which is why I make my magical wine. I didn’t choose baking.”
“I’m not asking you to make magical cookies. They’re regular, old Christmas cookies. How hard can it be? We follow the recipes and boom. Cookies. No magick.”
“No magick?” Alice asked with a discerning look on her face.
Hugo placed the gathered items on the island in the center of the kitchen. “No. We’re giving them to Johanna. Elizabeth did this every year. This might help fix whatever icy relationship the two of you have.”
“She started it,” Alice retorted.
“I know, but a little kindness goes a long way. It’s the holiday season, after all.”
“Fine,” Alice relented. “I’ll help bake them. For Christmas’ sake.” She moved to the island and plopped her hands on the wooden countertop. Her head tilted to the side.
“Fair warning, though,” she continued. “I’m not the best baker in the world.”
“Neither am I. We can be the worst bakers in the world together.”
“There is this whole store dedicated to baked goods in the town center. What is it called? The name escapes me.” Alice held up a finger to her chin and gazed at the ceiling. “Oh yeah! They call it a bakery because, you know, they bake stuff. Like baked goods. And cookies.”