Page 51 of Cookbooks and Demons

She glanced at the case, noting the small sign amongst a bunch of vertical-layered cakes that read “Opera Cakes” in flowery handwriting.

“What are they?” she asked.

“I have no idea, but those aren’t it,” he stated.

She grinned quietly and said no more as it was their turn to step up to thecounter.

“How can I help you?” the woman said, not to Helena who had been the one to step up and try to engage with her. She directed her question poignantly to Rafferty over her shoulder as if Helena wasn’t there.

He blinked, as surprised as Helena felt, and raised a hand to indicate the woman should talk to the human in front of her.

The woman’s lips thinned with annoyance, and then she directed her harsh gaze to Helena. “How can I helpyou?” sherepeated.

Helena put on a friendly face. “Hi, my name is Helena Rhodes from Scarlet Promotions. I’m here for the tasting on behalf of the Winter Rose Ball.”

“Right,” the other woman said and turned to go back through a pair of industrial swinging doors.

Helena stood there, stunned and unsure of what to do with no instructions. She glanced back at Rafferty, who seemed extremely bored, his arms recrossed as he moved back and forth a few steps.

“Okay, I guess we’ll wait here,” she said, wondering again what the consequences would be if she just left.

Ugh, I can’t do that to Scarlet’s reputation,she thought with an internal sigh.

To her relief, the woman came back a few minutes later.

“Come on,” she said curtly and led them back into a large industrial-level kitchen, where people were moving about making huge trays of baked goods. The unpleasant woman led them to a table that looked out of place, set in a corner with a pair of gold-covered chairs with pristine white seats. The table was set with a nice dining set of white plates with gold edging. A water glass and wine glass waited with a carafe of clear water next to a basket of covered bread rolls in the middle. Flanking them were two small dishes, each with little scooped mounds of butter. The butters were odd though: one seemed to have little flecks of something golden in them and the other was more of a pink color. The final touch on the table was a beautiful bouquet of white and purpleorchids.

“Feel free to take all the pictures you want,” the curt woman said, indicating the table. “The Executive Chef will be withyou soon.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you,” Helena said. The woman did not appreciate the thanks. Just walked off before Helena had finished speaking to head back up toward the front. “Okay, well the layout looks really nice. Pros and cons so far,” she said softly toRafferty.

For his part, Rafferty moved up to the closest chair and pulled it out for her to sit.

“Thank you, sir,” she said to him, nodding her head, and sat down at the table with a view of the kitchen. Then she slid out her phone and did as she had been instructed, taking pictures of the layout.

Once Rafferty sat in the other chair, they both regarded the clanking chaos around them.

“Not the same sort of view as our other date,” she noted.

He grunted, watching attentively as a pair of men watched a giant mixing arm turn and beat some sort of dough in a kettle large enough for Baba Yaga to boil a couple of children in.

“I wonder what they’re making,” she asked.

He partially stood up to look over the vast counters at someone with several baking sheets laid out beside him. He grunted. “That’s the thing,” he muttered. “He’s making that fake Opera Cake over there.”

“You want to go over and check it out?” Helena asked, but Rafferty shook his head.“Why not?”

“I do not have permission to enter the kitchen,” he said and left it at that.

They sat together companionably, waiting for someone to arrive to give them more information about what was about to happen. Helena wished she could bring herself to talk to him about what happened last night. They had parted ways shortly after the licking moment, her going to her bedroom and him cleaning up the dishes. She just didn’t know how she really felt about it and wished Cindy had helped hersolve it.

Now sitting there with Rafferty, she thought,Or I could just be a big girl and solve it myself.But she still had no idea what to do or say.

But she knew she did have one really big, awkward question to ask.

Rafferty, do you find me attractive?she thought. Only that was not how she wanted to phrase it at all.Why did you lick me last night? What does it mean? Were you trying to seduce me, or were you just trying to prove a point? What would happen if I slept with a demon? Would I be cursed? He said it was one of the things I could exchange for service from him, but is that all it is to him, or could he have relations on his owntime too?

None of these were questions she felt like she could ask in the middle of a room full of strangers, even if none of those people were paying any attention to them. The fact that there was a big ass crucifix on the wall framed by pictures of saints didn’t help things either.

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