My phone rang the next morning, and I was happy to see Lenny’s number on the display. “Hey, have you made a decision?”
“Yeah, I’ve got some savings. I don’t need much. I’ll quit today and be on my way tonight if you can keep me in menthols.”
I hated his smoking habit, and he had cut down significantly when I was his boss, but apparently he hadn’t kicked it entirely. “No food, no gas for your car, no rent, just smokes, huh? Well that I can probably manage, especially as they aren’t as expensive here.” I had spent over an hour with my books last night trying to figure out what I could pay him and still break even for the month. With trepidation, I’d texted him the figure.
It would mean no new shoes (the love of my life) for a long time, but my Ferragamos didn’t exactly get to spend a lot of time outside my closet when I lived, ate and breathed my shop anyway. “I might be able to do better than what I told you if we get a nice order or two, but that’s all I’m sure I can pay you per month. Basically you’ll be working for peanuts.”
“Fine. I’ll call Karen and quit now. I’ll see you tomorrow night, or maybe the morning after that. Could I crash with you for a night or two until I find a place of my own?”
“Of course.” I couldn’t help but notice he kept speaking of himself in the singular. “Um, just you? What about Kat? Is she coming later?”
“Nah, she’s staying here. Says she has things to do. I’ll see you soon.” He hung up—clearly trying to avoid the subject of his relationship with Kat. I wondered what was going on. When I spoke to Lenny the day before he’d talked like he thought she would come with him.
I pushed the worry out of my mind for now as the front door opened revealing Jack and his five-year-old daughter, Sadie. I grinned and moved from behind the counter as she approached me. “I wondered when you were going to stop by,” I said.
“Hi, Tess! Daddy said you were going to buy me a cupcake.” She pulled back from the hug and gave me a quizzical look. “If it’s your shop, why do you have to buy it for me?”
I released Sadie and touched her nose. “He’s using a figure of speech. He just means that I said I’d give you both a treat because he did me a favor.”
“Oh, okay. Can I have a strawberry cupcake with the filling? They’re my favorite.”
“I know they are.” I tapped her adorable button nose. The little girl brought sunshine into the room even when it was pouring rain outside. I gave her the treat before looking at her dad—that made me catch my breath (a not-uncommon reaction of late where he was concerned.)
It’s strange that I really disliked him when we first met, but now looking at him did funny things to my stomach. Maybe it was because of everything I went through last spring and how cool he ended up being about it (except for the IV, of course.) He even made fun of Bronson for me, which I needed at the time. Since then, seeing him with his daughter had made me like him more. He’s scads more relaxed around her, and it’s plain to see that he totally adores her.
And the fact that he’s the tall, dark and handsome type doesn’t hurt.
If Honey knew I felt this way, she’d be pushing us together all the time, but I’ve kept it to myself as my feelings for him have grown from dislike to toleration to something like friendship. Compared to my short-term relationship with Shawn last spring, Jack is someone with whom I could actually consider having a long-term relationship. I’m not exactly over the pain of my failed engagement, so I’ve been in no hurry. And he didn’t seem to think of me like that anyway. Darn it.
“What can I get for you, sir?” I asked.
His smile broadened. “Blueberry tart.”
I got it for him. “Of course.” He had a thing for blueberries whether in tarts, muffins, or topping for his cheesecake. I always made sure to stock a fruity favorite for him. Just in case.
“Tingey wasn’t very happy you left like that,” he said as I handed over the treat.
“That’s a shock. And I thought he’d say it was a brilliant idea,” I teased. “Actually, he may have decided it was brilliant after he left here. He had some cappuccino and treats, and took more to the guys since I had leftovers I needed to get rid of.”
His brows lifted in amusement. “Did he accuse you of bribing him?”
“Like he’d accept a bribe! But, yes, of course he questioned my motives. He took the food though. Any news about the investigation?”
“Not really. Hogan’s wife’s been talking things up because they’re looking at her son, but Tingey’s not spilling.”
“I knew it was too much to hope for.” I met his gaze. “Sandra asked me to do some checking around.”
He arched a brow. “Wait. Do you remember how many times you were hurt when you got involved in the investigation last spring?”
And he always seemed to show up when I was at my worst. What was with that, anyway? “Yes, but that was a unique situation.”
“Unique, as in the person was actually willing,” he looked at his daughter, who seemed fascinated by the discussion, “to remove a threat? Right, very different, because obviously this person didn’t mean to, um, hurt Eric.”
He had a point. Jack had a way of doing that, but his arguments wouldn’t dissuade me. “You wanna help?”
“Sure. What can I do?” His capitulation was instant, like he’d hoped I’d leave an opening for him to step in, despite his argument two seconds ago.
I would never understand men. “Well, someone’s got to figure out who else might have wanted Eric dead.”
“I’ll see what I can find out for you.”
Oh yeah, the man’s smile really did it for me. I reminded myself that we were just friends, and it was better that way. With determination, I focused more attention on Sadie.
“We’ll need two dozen of each kind of cookie,” Mary Ellen Perkins said as I took down her order. Apparently the ladies in the local quilt guild were big on sweets. “And two dozen of your terrific gingerbread cupcakes as well.”
I smiled and nodded. It would be a decent sale, which always made me happy. “That’s great. And what time will you be by to pick them up?”
Mary Ellen put her hand to her abundant bosom and gave me a look of shock. “Why, aren’t you coming? You came in May.”
I tried to keep a pleasant expression on my face. I hadn’t actually gone to participate in May, I’d stopped in to speak with Honey, whose mother-in-law had roped her into the meeting. I’d gotten sucked in to talk. Me and needles don’t mix—have I mentioned that before? And I’m not just talking about medical needles. I took home ec like everyone else in school (much to my distaste), but I was terrible at it. Joining the quilt guild was definitely not my speed. “Well, you see, I’m not really the quilting type, and my work keeps me so busy—”
“Your work is exactly why you need some outside activities. You have to have something besides this shop to keep your life well rounded and help you to really become part of the community!” Mary Ellen’s chin-length red hair moved like a stiff curtain as she nodded her head in emphasis.
Funny enough, I’d thought my shop and all of the people I interacted with each day sort of did that. “Maybe so, but I think I have another commitment that night.” I all but sighed with relief when the bell over the door rang. Turning, I gaped when I realized Lenny had already arrived. He wasn’t due for six more hours—at the earliest.
His blond hair was spiked, his earrings hung in gold dangles—both sets of them—he hadn’t shaved in at least two days, and with that amount of scruff, I was betting on four. He wore a faded yellow tank that showed off his tattoos and had an expletive on the front, and his jeans had more holes than the wafting of a tennis racket. To top it off, he reeked of cigarettes. Gross.
Mary Ellen looked up. Her eyes widened in shock and she moved away from the door, clutching her capacious purse, as if afraid he would pull a gun and ask for all of our money. I have no idea where she thought he’d hide a weapon in that ratty old tank top.
I put my hands o
n my hips and gave him a once-over. “What? Did you drive straight through?” I wrinkled my nose as the scent of stale smoke hit me even stronger. “And roll in cigarette butts?”
He barely gave Mary Ellen a cursory glance. “Honey, I’m home.”
“So I see.” I tried to decide why he’d pushed so hard when he knew I wasn’t expecting him until closing time, at least. “No wonder Kat didn’t come if she knew you were going to drive like a maniac to get here.”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and didn’t meet my eye. “You said you needed me.”
I couldn’t even count the many ways that excuse was lame. “I need you able to work; not looking like you just came off a three-day bender.”
He shrugged, not the least offended by my comment.
“Wait, you know him?” Mary Ellen’s voice rose on the last word, as if someone like me could not possibly know a person who looked like that.
“Lenny, Mary Ellen is the president of the local quilt guild. Mary Ellen, this is Lenny. When he’s rested, showered and shaved, he’ll be working for me. Don’t let the um, rumpled appearance fool you—you’re going to love dealing with him almost as much as you do with me.” I was as convincing as possible. The last thing I needed was for her to spread the word that I had some disreputable druggie working here.
The expression on her face made it clear she was not exactly withholding judgment. “I see.”
I pulled out my house key and passed it to him. “It’s the room on the right, the entrance is around back. Get some sleep.”
He nodded and headed toward the door. Before he had it half opened, though, I called out, “And take a shower and put on clothes that don’t reek before you sleep in my bed.”
He grinned wickedly, winked at Mary Ellen and slunk out.
That’s when I realized how my words sounded. I turned to Mary Ellen, whose eyes were as wide as my cinnamon rolls. “I say that generically. I’m sleeping in my grandma’s room, on the left. He’s taking my old bedroom, which is on the right.”
“He’s living with you? Are you two like…a couple?” she asked, obviously questioning my sanity.
“No, he’s crashing with me for a couple of days until he finds a place of his own. His girlfriend will be heading out here eventually, and Lenny and I are honestly just friends. I’d never . . . we don’t . . . it’s not like that between us.” Could I sound any lamer?
Again, her look was doubtful, but she said nothing. “So bring the food to the meeting. How much do I owe you?”
Feeling fully chastened by her attitude—even though I had done nothing wrong—I added up her bill and she paid it. Only after she left, reminding me of the place and time, did I realize she’d just roped me into attending her stupid meeting.
Bother.
½ cup (one stick) butter or margarine
1 cup white granulated sugar
2 eggs
½ cup milk
1 tsp vanilla
½ cup molasses
1 2/3 cup flour
½ tsp salt
2 1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp ground ginger
½ tsp ground cloves
½ tsp ground cinnamon
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. Grease and flour 18 muffin cups, or use paper liners.
In a large mixing bowl, cream together butter, sugar and eggs. Add the milk, vanilla and molasses and mix well.
In another bowl mix together the flour, salt, baking powder and spices. Then add slowly to wet ingredients, mixing well as you go.
Fill the muffin cups about halfway and bake for 15-20 minutes, or until they just start to turn brown.
Filling
8 oz cream cheese, softened
1/4 cup sugar
2 tsp lemon juice
1/2 cup whipping cream
Topping
2/3 cup sugar
3 Tbsp Cornstarch
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 tsp cinnamon
3 cups blueberries
1/4 cup water
Tart crust.
2 cups flour
1 tsp salt
3/4 cups shortening
1 large egg beaten
2 Tbsp white vinegar
Preheat oven to 350 degrees and use non-stick spray on two 12-cup muffin tins. Mix the flour and salt. Crust: Using a pastry blender, cut the shortening into the flour until it is uniform. Mix the egg and vinegar in a cup and blend into the flour mixture. Pie crust tip: once you add the liquids, you want to handle the crust as little as possible, but before adding the liquids, you can mix it as much as you like.
Roll out pie crust to slightly more than 1/8" thick and use a round cookie cutter about 3 1/2 " wide (or a wide-mouthed jar ring) to cut out circles. Slide the crust into the muffin tins--it's best to bend up the edges and slide it down, then smooth the crust against the sides of the tin. Prick the crusts with a fork. You could also use a cupcake liner for easier removal. Bake for 10-15 minutes or until lightly browned. Remove from oven and allow to cool completely.
Filling: Mix the softened cream cheese, sugar and lemon juice on medium until well blended. Then add the 1/2 cup of cream and whip until fluffy, stopping to scrap the sides of the bowl several times. Spoon about a tablespoon of filling in each cooled mini-tart crust. Chill.
Topping: Place all dry ingredients into a medium sauce pan on low heat and mix, add the water and mix well, then add the blueberries. Heat until the mix starts to simmer well. Take off the heat and allow to cool completely. Spoon over the tart filling. Makes 18-20 mini tarts.
When Lenny showed himself at the back door that afternoon, his chef’s jacket on, shaved, wearing stud earrings and looking a hundred percent better, I had nearly burned through my annoyance at him. “Come in. Did you get something to eat before you came down?” I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was already four thirty.
“I had some cereal. You said you have coffee here, right?” His eyes were still a little bleary, though he looked a lot better otherwise.
I gestured to the cappuccino machine. “Help yourself. When you’re feeling completely awake we’ll go over the procedures here.”
He smiled and walked through the kitchen, tapping a hand on each of the cupboard doors and telling me what was in them before opening them to reveal the items he’d mentioned. The show-off. When he got to the order pad that sat near the register, he explained protocol and goggled at the price of the last sale. “Wow, you’re really underpricing your food. No wonder you can’t afford to pay me more.”
With a tug at the order pad, I flipped it closed again and stashed it beside the register. “No, I’m not underpricing them. We’re fifty percent higher than the grocery store bakery—or more depending on the item. People don’t pay five bucks for a cupcake here—no matter how decadent it is. I’d have gone under by now if I charged Chicago prices.”
I clapped a hand on his shoulder and turned him toward the cappuccino machine again. “Since you just demonstrated the fact that I’m a creature of habit who keeps everything in essentially the same place as I did in the restaurant in Chicago, you can get that drink and we’ll talk about the menu and pricing.” I acted irritated, but it was so nice having him here—and that I could trust him to know what he was doing and to need very little oversight.
Several more customers came in while he sipped his coffee and watched us interact. When the last one left with a chocolate cake for dinner that night, he shook his head. “Things here in Cowboy Springs really are different.”
I leaned back against the counter and studied him. “Are you sorry you came?”
“No.” But his expression said he wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth. “I needed a complete change. This is sure going to be it.” He looked around as if still not believing he was here.
“Things at the hotel got that bad, did they?”
He tapped the side of his coffee cup. “We’ll just say that Karen never liked me when you worked there, and she disliked me even more after you left.
I was probably on my last leg there anyway.” He finished his drink and tossed the paper cup, moving toward the counter. “You’re doing me a favor, getting me out of there.”
“When’s Kat coming?” I felt a tug of worry when grief passed through his expression, then was shunted away.
“Give me a list of your flavors.” He pulled out an order form I showed to customers and began paging through.
“Lenny.” I couldn’t believe he’d just ignored my question.
His eyes closed for a moment before he returned his gaze to the papers. “Just leave it, will you? Not now.”
They could not have broken up. Lenny and Kat went together like milk and cookies, like cake and filling, like ganache and fondant. The look in his eyes was heartbreaking, though, so I tried to accept his request. My ringing cell phone assisted in that.
“Hey, Honey,” I answered when her name popped up on the display. “What’s up?”
“I thought maybe when your friend comes in tonight we could all grab some dinner and do some dancing at the Silver Spur. Show him a real friendly Cowboy Springs hello.” She’d found his nickname for our town funny and often used it when we were alone.
“He’s already here. He dragged in this morning looking like a whole herd of cows ran over him. I think Mary Ellen nearly had a heart attack.”
Lenny chuckled and started adjusting the pastries in the display cases. I kicked his shoe in annoyance, which only made it worse.
“Really? That must have been fun,” Honey said.
“Okay,” I admitted after a moment of trying to hold back my laugh. “It was hilarious. She looked like she thought he was going to mug us, and I just laid into him about being such a mess.”
“And telling me to shower before sleeping in your bed,” he said loud enough that Honey would be able to hear him.
“You said what?” she asked, half laughing in surprise.
“I explained. Anyway, I think a country hello is exactly what this kid needs. Meet you at seven?”
Pistols & Pies (Sweet Bites Book 2) (Sweet Bites Mysteries) Page 4