Page 17 of Frosting and Flames

Her brows raise. “I shouldn’t be surprised, but she somehow still manages it.”

“It’s a real gift,” I agree, rolling my eyes.

“So I’m guessing we’re not selling cannolis?”

“We’re not. Must have been a bad connection all the way from Italy to here. I couldn’t understand a word of what she was saying.”

She grins. “International calls are the worst.”

I pull the schedule for the week toward me. “Listen, I need to take Saturday morning off. Jae signed me up to work at this fundraiser at the fire station. I’ll come in afterward to help with Sunday prep, but you and Hailey should be okay since Desiree is working the counter.”

Her interest sharpens. “The fire station? With Nick?”

Now why is that the first thing she focuses on? “Not specifically with Nick. I mean, that was Jae’s motive, but she didn’t know the background.”

“You told her?”

I nod. “Maybe if I had to begin with, she wouldn’t have pulled this.”

She makes a noncommittal sound. “Well, good luck. I have a feeling you’ll need it.”

She gives a smirk before leaving, and I stare after her, not liking the return of that unsettled sensation.

I get up and walk past Sydney, my legs moving of their own accord. “I’m taking a break,” I call out, not giving her the chance to argue.

I continue out the back area to the front and tell Hailey the same, the bell above the door jingling merrily as I exit. My feet move one in front of the other without direction, almost as if the faster I walk, the faster I can outrun any thoughts of disquiet.

Inhaling deeply, I let the fresh air outside and the midday sunshine work its magic. Aurora in the spring really is something, the breeze greeting me gently as it blows past, warm but teasing with the faintest nip of leftover cool. Birds chatter overhead from the trees lining the street, and I turn down the next block, where the businesses give way to a more residential area.

A lawnmower hums in the distance, and the smell of fresh cut grass wafts on the breeze. Yards burst with flowers of every color, and I’m reminded I haven’t planted anything myself in my own yard. Maybe I’ll get some hanging flower baskets for my porch, just like that house. There’s a woman pruning them and I squint, recognizing Mrs. Garcia. She loves our red velvet cakes, using every holiday or celebration as an excuse to get one. She hasn’t put in an order yet for one for Mother’s Day coming up, but I’m sure she will. If not, I might send a friendly reminder to Mr. Garcia about the occasion.

Down the street, I wave to Mandy, a girl I went to school with but haven’t talked to much since I came back to town. She’s playing hopscotch with her daughter, a little towheaded girl who clearly doesn’t understand the rules of the games as she stomps theatrically among the squares. Come to think of it, I’m not sure I remember the rules, either.

“Hey, Rachel,” Mandy says, keeping one eye on her daughter. “You working?”

I glance down at where she’s looking, realizing I still have my chocolate-stained apron on. “Yeah, just a quick break to clear my head.”

“Did, um…” She bites at her lip. “Did Jayce put in an order at the bakery? Can you tell me, or is that breaking some kind of baker-customer confidentiality clause?”

I grin. “I don’t think that applies to my line of work. And, yes, he did.”

Relief breaks over her face. “Good. Because I was dropping mad hints. I wanted to make sure he was actually picking up on them.”

Her husband had ordered a half-dozen chocolate hazelnut cupcakes drizzled with salted caramel sauce for her birthday. “I promise you’ll love them.”

There’s a gleam in her eye I love seeing. “Are they the—Wait, don’t tell me. I want to be surprised.”

I laugh, recognizing the torment between the thrill of surprise and the need to know what’s going on.

“What’s funny?” her daughter asks in a cute lisp, coming over to us.

“Nothing,” Mandy says, picking her up and snuggling her close. “We’re going to have some yummy dessert on my birthday, is all.”

“Is it the cupcakes Daddy—”

“Shh,” Mandy laughs, pressing a finger to her daughter’s mouth. “You’ll ruin the surprise.”

The girl looks between us, then catches on, pressing her own finger to her lips with a grin.

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