Page 15 of No Angels

“Come on.” He grabs my hand. “Since you’re letting me tag along we’re taking my truck instead of the tin can your mom calls a car.”

I love driving my mom’s candy apple red Mini Cooper, but he would look like a gorilla smashed into one of those tiny little dune buggies. “Fine. Can I replace my coffee on the way?”

“Yeah, I need a refill too.”

By the time we stroll into Cupcake on Main, the morning rush is over. Emma gives me a knowing look when we get to the counter.

“Hey Mike, are you having your usual?” She asks him.

“Yeah, gimme an Americano. And whatever Bumble Bee wants.”

Emma raises a brow and smirks. “What’ll you have, Bumble Bee?”

I give her the evil eye I to let her know it is never okay to call me that. “I’ll take the Hazelnut Mocha on ice.”

Mike hands her a twenty before I can protest. “I’ve got this. Don’t argue,” he tells me when he sees my facial expression.

“Your bumble bee is slowly making her way through the entire fall drink menu.”

“So you take your coffee with more than half and half now?”

I shrug. “When it’s available.”

Cindy is waiting outside the theater when we park at the meter. She waves her hand excitedly and I wonder if she’s going to revisit her head cheerleader days and jump up and down.

“Let’s go inside. I can’t wait to show you the potential. It just needs a little elbow grease and it can be the star of Main Street again.”

When a realtor from one of the boroughs tells you something needs a little elbow grease it usually means it’s barely salvageable and they’re desperate.

When she opens the door and flicks the switch, nothing happens. Mike and I exchange a look because this doesn’t bode well for “the potential.”

“No worries. I always carry a flashlight in my purse.” She hauls out a high beam like the one exterminators use to crawl under houses. It’s huge. And very, very bright.

The first thing I notice is the chairs. They all need reupholstering. The vintage red velvet is faded and full of tiny moth holes.

The second thing I notice is the floor. It’s sloping on one side.

“Rotten boards, maybe the joist too,” Mike mutters.

“The heirs have been fighting over the estate for eighteen years, and it’s sat here empty that whole time.” It looks like it’s been empty for much longer than that.

“Do you think it’s salvageable?” I whisper from the corner of my mouth.

He nods. “Definitely.”

I motion Cindy over. “Hey Cindy. I think we have all the information we need. I’m going to speak with Farrah and Zane.”

She takes my hand when I offer it, her eyes glowing. “Thank you, Bianca. I want you to know how excited my girls and I are that you’re here. We saw you inRentand we’ve been starstruck ever since.”

Well, that’s a development I never expected. I was way beneath Cindy Houlihan’s radar in high school. “Thanks, Cindy. I’m very grateful for all the opportunities I’ve had.”

She hasn’t stopped smiling. “I’m so honored to have renewed our acquaintance. I hope you decide to settle here again. Your star power would really help Willow Creek.”

Once we’re standing on the sidewalk again, Mike throws his arm over my shoulders.

The weight, both unfamiliar and familiar at the same time, makes my nape prickle. It feels companionable and proprietary. I wonder if Cindy Houlihan Davis is watching us.

“So, Cassidy, how’s a waffle cone sound?”

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