Bootscootin' and Cozy Cash Mysteries Boxed Set (Books 1-6)

by Scott, D. D.

  The pompous idiot had the worst timing. Not as if any time was ideal to put up with him, but Jules felt bad for leaving her discussion with Cody unfinished.

  “What have you done to get ready for our meeting?”

  Silence surrounded Jacques’s hand-cut, silk suit. The man knew how to dress. It was the rest of life he was lousy at.

  “Obviously nothing. Precisely my point.” Jules narrowed her eyes, boring straight into his haughty, judgmental expression, her disdain for the man and all he lacked in respectability and decency refusing to lighten up.

  She then redirected her attention to Cody, reaching for his hand and squeezing it tight between her own — in part to comfort him but more to strengthen her own resolve to forge ahead.

  “I’ll be back in a bit. I’ve got to change clothes. I’m sorry we couldn’t finish our conversation. But we will this afternoon. Sound good?”

  She lifted his hat enough to kiss his forehead then returned his faithful Stetson to its home.

  “I’m even sorrier I have to leave you with him,” Jules said, pointing her thumb at Jacques and wrinkling her nose.

  Cody pulled Jules towards his chest and hugged her then winked. Without saying a word, he’d given her every bit of encouragement she needed.

  Jacques rolled his eyes and adjusted the open collar of his tailored shirt as if to reinstate the dignity he’d lost. He then dismissed Jules with a flick of his hand — the same motion he’d use to shoo away a pesky fly.

  “Cody, honey, could you light all the candles on the tables?” She handed him the lighter she’d set out on the counter.

  “I’ll help,” Jacques said.

  “No, you won’t. Cody, don’t let him close to that lighter. Nothing good happens when he plays with fire.”

  Jacques’s jaw twitched and his cheeks flushed.

  Jules disappeared into her office, enjoying the sight of his pride burning.

  • • •

  An hour later, Jules sat across from Sienna, studying the voluptuous vixen who’d once owned Cody’s heart.

  The woman was incredibly beautiful. Gorgeous in an intimidating, ego-deflating way. No woman could compete with that exotic, sexed-up perfection.

  Raven locks of luxurious waves crowned her head then fell in coiffed tendrils around her toned shoulders. Darker-than-dark, Mediterranean espresso eyes and sculpted lashes complimented her French Riviera tan. She took ‘hot’ to an entirely new level.

  She wore a form-fitting button down shirt. Button down meaning the first button used was at the base of the ‘v’ between her bountifully augmented breasts. A large diamond cross pendant, suggestively centered at the top of her cleavage, would make men the world over convert to Christianity.

  Jules continued watching Sienna as she looked at the catering portfolio. And Jules watched Cody who continued looking at anything except Sienna. Even when Sienna spoke, Cody couldn’t or wouldn’t look at her, instead pretending to take notes on a notepad he wouldn’t even know how to use since it wasn’t electronically equipped.

  “I love your ideas, Jules. Yes. This is exactly what I want. And I love pink. I wear it well.” Sienna tapped her French-manicured ring finger against the portfolio, her five-carat plus, princess cut engagement ring reflecting the sun streaming through the windows.

  Sharp prisms of color bounced off her crystal water glass.

  “I suppose I need your opinion, Jacques.”

  Jacques cleared his throat, fighting the indignity he no doubt felt being a second thought to his client. “If you’re happy, I’m good with that. But I do think we need to reconsider Jules’ cupcake motif.”

  “I disagree,” Jules said, knowing this battle was coming and wanting to end it. “They’re so easy to pop in your mouth. You can still keep your drink in hand while chatting up your guests. They’re chic, elegant, delicious, and something different for Music City. I just read that Heidi Klum for Posh Beckham’s birthday is sending her a dozen cupcakes every Friday for the next year. We could even package the mini cakes for your bridal shower, your bachelorette party, the rehearsal dinner and wedding. If we send home a few with your guests after each event, we’d give them something fun and scrumptious to talk about when your parties are over.”

  Jules knew she had her as soon as she mentioned Heidi and Posh. But she pulled out all the cards in her debate file, wanting Sienna to be the one to set Jacques straight on this issue.

  “I like it, Jacques. Cupcakes it is. It’s time we brought a little Hollywood and Manhattan to Music City.” Sienna closed the portfolio and handed it back to Jules. “Now that just leaves Cabo. Jacques, have you worked that out with Jules and Cody?”

  Jacques looked like he was dying. His face turned as gray as his suit. He’d lost the cupcake war and now he’d been caught not having something else done he was supposed to do. Not as if dropping the ball shouldn’t be well within his comfort zone.

  “Go ahead and fill them in, Sienna,” he said, picking imaginary lint off his suit jacket. “I didn’t want to steal your thunder.”

  Even though Jules liked to see Jacques squirm, she worried about the crooked smile slowly forming across his too thin lips.

  “Jacques was supposed to tell you I’m having my bachelorette party in Cabo San Lucas. Four days and three nights at a fabulous beachside resort. Christina Aguilera did that, and her celebration looked fantastic and fun.”

  “Oh. Okay, then. I’m sure I can find someone there to take care of your catering needs,” Jules said.

  Disappointed to lose the business but at the same time a bit relieved she’d have less to do, Jules made a note in her planner to find a caterer in Cabo.

  Sienna laughed. “Oh, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t explain myself. You and Cody will be coming with me and my guests. I could never pull this off without you.”

  Cody looked as if he were damn near ready to fall off his chair. He jumped up and circled the table. His boots hit hard against the path he was wearing, sure to ruin the finish on Sweet Destiny’s new hardwood floors.

  Jacques sat back in his chair like a gloating Cheshire cat who’d just swallowed one helluva deliciously fat canary.

  Jules couldn’t begin to digest what they’d just been told but knew she’d made no mistake in her interpretation.

  How could she gracefully bow out of Sienna’s request? Would her contract even allow for that? She had signed to do Sienna’s bachelorette party, location to be determined. She made a quick note in her planner to specify locations in all future contracts.

  “Sienna, I’m not sure I can get away for that long and still be on track for your other events. Your mother never mentioned this or I would have expressed reservations then.” Jules used her crystal napkin ring as a stress ball, squeezing it so hard she left indent marks in her palms from the large pink facets.

  “My mother, contrary to local opinion, does not run my entire life.” Sienna sat back in her chair and tossed her napkin onto her plate. A distraught pout punctuated her perfectly plump lips. “I’m sorry to throw you off like this but I really want to do this, and I need both of you to make it happen. Jacques’ Fan Fest meeting makes him worthless to me those days, and the dates can’t be changed.”

  “Sienna, with our past —”

  “Cody, I’m getting married, for God’s sake. I’m over you. Could you, for once, put our past aside and just do this for me? Or better yet, look at it this way. Do it for Jules who’s already contracted to see this through.”

  Cody screeched to a dramatic halt next to Sienna’s chair and leaned down to her horrified, yet bewildered face. “I would have done anything for you but that wasn’t good enough.”

  He looked at Jules, an I’m-so-sorry expression filling his face, then walked out of the bakery.

  The door closed, the latch connecting to the wood frame the only sound filling the Grand Canyon-sized void he’d left.

  “Fan Fest meeting, huh?” Jules took her turn as the Cheshire cat, wanting nothing more than to swallo
w Jacques for lunch.

  Sienna cried. Coal black mascara dripped from her false lashes and splashed onto her shirt, leaving Jackson Pollock style splats. “I’m sorry, Jacques. I wasn’t supposed to say that was I?”

  “Oh, Jesus, don’t do that.” Jacques panicked, dunking his napkin in his water glass then dabbing at Sienna’s shirt. “That’s an obscenely expensive shirt.”

  Ever the compassionate SOB, Jules glared at Jacques for his insensitivity toward their client, then put her arms around Sienna.

  “I’ll talk to Cody. We’ll work something out. And don’t worry about keeping Jacques’ dirty secrets. He’s a big boy and is bound to hang himself without any of our help.”

  “Thank you.” Sienna sniffed then snorted.

  Although Jules felt for Sienna’s tears, she was a bit relieved to find something unattractive about the siren in her sniffle snorts.

  “I never meant to hurt Cody. Honest, Jules, I didn’t.”

  “Maybe we’d better talk about this another time.”

  Not that Jules wanted to befriend Sienna but she’d help Cody any way she could. If it meant his well being and happiness would be more likely possible by hearing out Sienna’s explanation, Jules was willing to take one for the team.

  And purging Sienna from Cody’s system was just what Doc Tulip would order if she were here. So getting the scoop from Sienna was a must.

  “Call me next week, Sienna. We’ll have coffee and tea biscuits then chat.”

  “Okay.” Sienna sniffled and snorted one last time then wiped her face and nose on Jacques’s napkin before handing it back to him.

  Jacques’s face contorted in undignified, unabashed terror, giving Jules more satisfaction than she’d had in a long time.

  Snot for a snot.

  Chapter Nine

  Jules slid into a corner booth at The Lunch Box. Keeping her back to the door, she planned to retreat from the world behind the porcelain pig guarding the café’s guests.

  Taking a paper napkin out of the decoupage holder on the table, she wiped away a puddle of grease from the red and white checkered, plastic tablecloth.

  Despite the diner’s tacky, cheap décor, Jules had found a refuge in Cody’s family’s cinder block café.

  Something about southern soul food tasted better than any of the five-star gourmet fare she’d grown up on and could now prepare in her sleep.

  “You fixin’ to have the special, Sweet Pea?” Midge’s Tennessee twang greeted Jules as she poured sweet tea into a huge, red plastic, Coca-cola cup.

  “Hi, Midge. I forgot to check the board. What is it today?”

  Hopefully something dreadful for her diet, Jules thought. Why shouldn’t her food be the same heavy weight of her heart and mind? She was a proponent of a balanced life. Her digestive tract would then be in the same crazy sync as the rest of her body.

  “Chicken dumplings, your choice of the holy trinity of white vegetables, cornbread, and candied apples.” Midge tucked a worn down pencil stub behind one ear and stuffed her check tablet into her apron pocket.

  “Sounds great. Tell me again what the holy trinity thing is,” Jules said, still having fun picking up the local Meat n’ Three culinary vernacular.

  “Sure thing, Sweet Pea. They didn’t teach you that in chef school did they?”

  Midge laughed in a “gotcha there” way, not poking fun to be cruel but teasing Jules out of genuine care and friendship.

  Jules giggled and shook her head. Even her foul mood couldn’t fail to find the humor in Midge’s sweet-natured ribbing.

  “I didn’t think so. It’s mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, and white beans. And for you, Little Missy, a smidgeon of all three could be arranged,” Midge offered with the same ornery twinkle in her eyes that Jules often saw in Cody’s teasing expressions.

  “I will try a little of each. But just a little.”

  “I’ll fix you up. And don’t worry, honey. What you don’t eat, I’ll put in a doggy bag.” Midge disappeared behind the huge, vinyl-padded kitchen door, leaving it swishing back and forth long after she’d vanished.

  Jules looked at the chalkboard on the wall. Surrounded by shelves and shelves of lunch boxes, the menu scribbled there was barely visible. Some of the boxes were probably worth a fortune. Jules had her eye on a BeeGees one, but Midge would never part with it. Lunch boxes and Lunch Specials were her life.

  Jules studied the menu for the rest of the week. Nothing but fried, fatty, sweet and delicious dishes were due to be whipped up in the diner’s kitchen.

  But more than The Lunch Box’s food was addictive. Jules had never felt so welcomed as she did in the diner, and she needed the refuge.

  Sienna and Jacques’s shenanigans were driving her to a new level of zany. With Aunt Tulip in town too meddling live from Music City instead of via long distance from Manhattan, plus the pressures of preparing for Sweet Destiny’s grand-opening, now less than a week away, Jules was taking neurotic and obsessive-compulsive disorder to new heights.

  The Lunch Box’s comfort food coupled with Midge and Grams’ company soothed her soul and offered the perfect, temporary antidotes to her troubles.

  Not that she didn’t love Tulip more than anything in the world and wasn’t lucky to have her here to boost her sanity reserve. Jules just needed the out the diner provided.

  Tulip’s way of dissipating stress was to talk, talk, talk ‘til she thought all Jules’ troubles were solved. Sometimes, Jules preferred to wallow in her misery. She wanted to digest the ramifications without therapeutic intervention. She enjoyed the silence of her reflections.

  And she definitely didn’t want or need Tulip fixated on her non-existent love life. What Jules did or didn’t end up doing with Cody was none of Tulip’s damn business.

  Jules pulled her planner out of her tote bag, unzipped the edge and flipped to the day’s schedule. She fished the depths of the bag for her pen and pencil case, then for a highlighter. Popping off the marker’s top, she breathed in the heady, hot pink ink, letting it feed her ambition.

  Taking pleasure in the fact she’d survived to cross off another ‘to do’ from the list, she marked through the meeting with Sienna.

  The pleasure was severely limited, however, by the reality she failed to accomplish the feat without adding another challenge to her over-heaped plate.

  ‘Cabo San Lucas’ was now penned in over the top of at least four days and three nights in November that were already hurting for empty space.

  She took a quick look at the year at-a-glance pages where she recorded the big picture large hits on her mental and physical wellbeing.

  Next week marked the first of October which brought Sienna’s pool-side bridal shower and the bakery’s grand opening.

  Where was time going at such a walloping speed?

  It seemed Jules’ life as of late was marked by there never being enough time for anything or anyone.

  Jules pulled at the ends of her hair and let fly a nonprofessional, four-letter word.

  To plan and execute the events in Cabo, she’d have to go ahead of Sienna and her guests. Then more than likely stay a day or more after Cruz and Company returned to the states.

  Jules extended lines on each side of the four days, blocking out a total of ten. Then erased and rescheduled what had previously filled those days. Luckily, she always used pencil on her calendars. But she was still pissed when she had to take advantage of the eraser.

  Once she got back to Tennessee from Cabo, she’d have Thanksgiving, a beyond busy time for a bakery. She sure hoped business was booming by then. She should be making pumpkin bread and tea rings at a frantic pace. December would soon follow with nothing but Christmas cookies and cupcakes for Sweet Destiny’s everyday customers. Not to mention the gazillion cupcakes, couture desserts, and decorative prep for the wedding that would make her bakery or break it.

  She took a large swig of sweet tea. Maybe the sugar would give her a nice buzz complimenting the dizzying blur created by finagling h
er schedule.

  “Go easy on that sweet tea, Sweet Pea. That stuff’s heaven in a tumbler but will give you one hell of a sugar rush,” Midge cautioned while setting a steaming plate of dumplings in front of Jules followed by side dishes of the holy trinity, apples and a heaping basket of cornbread.

  “I certainly don’t need another headache. I got plenty on my calendar.”

  Jules pushed her planner to the side of the table, making room for all the dishes. Hell, the doggy bag would have be the size of a potato sack to get all this food home. She’d have dinner for the next three days at least.

  “Mind if I sit with you a bit? My feet are killing me.”

  “No. I’d love your company. And help me eat this.” Jules looked at all the food in front of her, not knowing which fabulous creation she wanted first on her fork, although the dumplings and mac and cheese were in a neck-in-neck battle.

  “No thanks on the food, darlin’. I get my fill of that stuff around here.”

  Midge set her tray on the table across the aisle. Sliding into the opposite side of the booth so her back rested against the wall and her legs were reclined on the bench, she sighed like much more than her feet were kicking her backside.

  The woman worked entirely too hard, Jules thought. Between her and Grams, Cody sure had stellar examples of what it took to make your own business successful. There was no doubting the origin of his honorable work ethic. But did the Weiss family have a life outside their jobs?

  Jules, like the Weiss’, knew the joys of self-employment were measured against sacrifices and stress. Speaking for herself and probably for all of them, the challenges were worth the what sometimes seemed insurmountable obstacles.

  Welll — except for the Cruz nightmare. Any day now, that deal could prove her full of crap.

  “You don’t mind if I put my feet up awhile, do you?”

  “Of course not. In fact, I’ve got mine tucked underneath me in lotus position,” Jules said, laughing at the bemused expression on Midge’s face. “Sorry for the yoga reference. It’s a meditation thing.”