Page 13 of The Chef's Kiss
“Not of your swill, cos. Stick to baking please.” I walked up beside him, eyeing the glass case. “Oh, but I will take a cupcake.”
With a sigh, he rounded the counter and reached inside.
“No, not that one. Over. Over. Yes.” I grinned as he pulled out a pink-frosted monstrosity with more icing than any of the others had. “Do you want me to pay?” I would. It was his business, after all. But I only had a few dollars in my pocket, so I secretly hoped he said no.
“Of course not. Do me a favor though …” He looked toward the door. “When you find out more about that out-of-towner—because I know you will—send me a carrier pigeon or something.”
“You got it.” I paused at the door. “Oh, I forgot to tip you.”
“You don’t—”
“Your cupcakes need more frosting.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Get out of here before I call your dad and tell him you’re in town.”
“How—” I shook my head. “Never mind. I already know.” As I stepped out onto the street, I cursed my brother. News traveled fast in Superiore Bay, but even faster when half the people were related. Sure, the cousins didn’t grow up together, but some of us had gotten over petty family squabbles.
Conrad must have told Harrison—the town mayor and our oldest cousin—that my dad couldn’t know I was back yet.
Which meant … I sighed. “Well, today just got fun.” Because I knew exactly who’d come the moment they found out.
I looked down at the outfit Leyla lent me—neither she nor my brother made good on threats to force me home in search of clothes. I hoped she didn’t like this shirt because I was already late to meet Conrad and didn’t have time to change. He’d said he needed my help today in exchange for staying.
Devouring the cupcake in three giant bites, I didn’t bother getting a new coffee before heading toward the docks, where I’d left Conrad’s boat. If I wanted to, I could just jump in and head all the way toward Hidden Cove. I could hide in the Hillsons’ chocolate. Maybe Colin was the one person I could tell my true reason for coming home.
But I couldn’t do it. Mr. Glen at the docks sent me a salute and hollered, “I filled ‘er up for you. Put it on Conrad’s account.”
“Thanks, Mr. Glen.” Climbing gingerly into the boat, I cranked the engine, not looking forward to getting back to the sanctuary. Conrad had a habit of wanting to teach me lessons. He thought hard work was the best educator.
Well, walking around town and avoiding the gossip crew was work enough for me today. What I wouldn’t give for a Netflix afternoon with Cara, probably my only girl friend. But I’d ruined that. Go, Jorgina.
Conrad was waiting for me at the island’s small dock, arms crossed over his chest. “You were supposed to be here half an hour ago.”
“Forgive me for going to get breakfast.” I cut the engine and climbed out.
“The fridge was a lot closer to the couch than downtown.”
“Conrad, I’d have to be a bunny rabbit to want to eat what’s in your fridge. I had a craving.” I shrugged, stomping past him to reach the stairs.
“For what?”
I couldn’t tell him my breakfast of choice was a cupcake or how much I was regretting that choice after the boat ride over here. My stomach heaved, and I slumped over, pink vomit spilling from my mouth.
Conrad was by my side immediately, pulling my hair back. “Jorgie, are you sick? We need to get you back to the house.”
I felt a thousand times better as I wiped my mouth. “I’m ready to get to work.”
He shook his head. “You can’t be serious.”
I gave him a sweet smile. “At least now you have an answer to your question.”
“What question?”
“I had a cupcake for breakfast.”
* * *
I cursed Conrad for about the tenth time as I shoveled hay into the wheelbarrow. “This is almost as bad as staying with Dad.” There, I’d only have to deal with his disapproving glares. At least I’d have had Grandpa.
