by Ani Gonzalez
Zach wasn't so sure. Her joy was too effusive, too extreme. This was no mere miscommunication. "I wouldn't be so pleased, if I were you. My mom got a Peruvian cookbook for her birthday and she's been trying out some ceviche recipes. Your dad will probably have a raging case of indigestion."
Patricia laughed. "That's fine. Indigestion would be way better than..."
Her voice trailed off and the worried frown returned.
"Than what?" he asked.
"Nothing," she said quickly, forcing cheerfulness into her voice. The rocking motion was back. "I should go pick him up. Thanks for helping out."
"There's no hurry," Zach said. "He'll play with my dad for about an hour and then have dinner."
Patricia looked undecided. Something was still worrying her and Zach felt an uncharacteristic urge to find out what it was and help her fix it. This was extremely unlike him, he wasn't the fixer type.
He was more of the getting-into-trouble type.
But something about Patricia's haunted eyes made him think that maybe he could be the fixer type. Had he lost his mind? This crazy woman had just left him chained up in a dank storeroom.
Maybe that was why he was suddenly so attracted to her.
"If you want to talk about it," he started, ready to offer some help, or maybe just a shoulder to cry on.
But a happy shout interrupted him.
"Patricia," Elizabeth squealed. "Holly and I have been looking all over for you."
Her companion, a short girl with curly hair and glasses, smiled. Holly Hagen, the town's assistant librarian, was a woman of few words, but when she spoke, people listened.
"We're celebrating Elizabeth's engagement," Holly said in a gentle voice. "It's a big deal."
Elizabeth blushed. "It's just a ring..." Her voice trailed off as three pairs of eyes focused on her in disbelief.
"Are you kidding?" Zach interjected. "That thing's bigger than the Hope Diamond. It's not cursed, is it?"
She frowned. "I should hope not." She glanced at the ring admiringly. "I would hate to give it up."
"And it definitely deserves a glass of bubbly," Holly said, heading for the back of the dining room. "C'mon girls."
Patricia looked uncertain. She put her hands in her pockets and opened her mouth, and Zach was certain she was going to refuse the invitation.
He nudged her gently. "Your dad will be fine for an hour," he whispered. "You can take a break and have a drink."
She bit her lip, still looking worried.
Elizabeth aimed a questioning glance at Zach. He half-shrugged, indicating that he had no clue how to proceed.
Elizabeth, however, always knew what to do.
"Can you make us your special sangría cava, Zach?" she asked, grabbing Patricia's arm. "I have an engagement to celebrate."
CHAPTER SEVEN
"TO LIFE." Holly raised her champagne flute high. "And love, and Cannibal Clone Princesses from Alpha Centauri who always get what they want."
Elizabeth laughed and even Patricia couldn't help but smile. Elizabeth's magnum opus wouldn't appear on anyone's list of most romantic movies, but the tribute was strangely appropriate.
"Even the dreaded Princess Verdala," Holly continued with faux seriousness, "eventually succumbs to the naked baby with the deadly bow and arrow set."
"Very funny," Elizabeth scoffed, but she seemed pleased.
"Give us the details," Patricia said, trying to get into the celebratory spirit. "How did Gabe propose?"
"Actually," Elizabeth said, blushing deeply. "I'd like to keep the details...private."
Holly and Patricia exchanged glances. Elizabeth had spent several years as a working actress in L.A., and her West Coast life had been pretty wild. Patricia tried to picture a proposal scenario that would make Elizabeth Hunt blush, but drew a blank.
That's what happened when you lived a sheltered life.
"Are you sure?" Holly asked. "We won't tell a soul and we'll ooh and aah at the appropriate times. I'm surprised to hear that Gabe has a wild side, so details would be welcome."
Elizabeth shook her head and sipped her sangría. No, wait, she was drinking water. Patricia's eyes narrowed. Was there a reason for this hasty engagement? That would definitely explain Elizabeth's blushes.
"C'mon," Holly urged. "How am I supposed to live vicariously through you, if you won't share any details?"
Elizabeth gulped down her drink.
"How about living vicariously through her?" she asked, pointing at Patricia. "She's the one who found a naked dude in chains. My story isn't anywhere as interesting as that."
Patricia gasped. But Holly would not be sidetracked. She stared at Elizabeth with narrowed eyes.
"I don't know," she drawled. "You're willing to throw your best friend under the bus to keep it hidden, so it must be pretty good."
Patricia sighed in relief and reached for her drink. That was a close shave.
Elizabeth would not give up though. "Zach. Naked. Chains." She raised a brow invitingly. "Need I say more."
Holly sighed in defeat. "Fine, I'll bite." She turned to Patricia. "Spill it, girl. Did Brenda's exorcism work?"
"Exorcism?" Patricia almost spilled her sangría. "Zach said it was a sex spell."
Elizabeth looked suitably alarmed, but Holly just nodded sagely.
"She had to make up something," Holly said. "Zach wouldn't have agreed to an exorcism."
Elizabeth grinned. "I guess even Zach has his limits."
Patricia felt the urge to defend Zach, but what could she say? His reputation was well earned.
"But an exorcism?" she asked instead. "Why did his girlfriend want to do an exorcism?"
"Ex-girlfriend," Holly clarified. "And it was a love exorcism designed to terminate the relationship. He spent all his time at the pizzeria or crunching numbers for a new business. Brenda felt that he wasn't paying any attention to her, that he didn't really love her."
"And she was right," Elizabeth interjected, waving her flute for emphasis.
Patricia frowned. "But I thought he was trying to mend his ways."
At least that's what he'd told her in the PRoVE house. She'd been surprised by his words and by the wistfulness in his voice.
Elizabeth nodded. "Yep, but he was trying way too hard. You can't rush these things." She glanced at her ring. "You have to find the right person."
"She really loved him," Holly mused. "Although it was a bit obsessive. I guess that's why she asked Yolanda for the spell."
"Yolanda from the botánica?" Patricia asked. Yolanda, the town's hair stylist, had taken advantage of the town's paranormal reputation and expanded the hair salon into a thriving botánica, where she sold homemade beauty products. Patricia was a big fan of the lavender-lemon soaps. "I didn't know she did...witchcraft."
"It's called Santería," Holly explained. "It's an Afro-Caribbean religion."
"She mostly does ghost banishings," Elizabeth added. "I recommend her to my clients all the time."
Patricia nodded. Elizabeth had quit her movie career to help her mother, the town's leading real estate agent. Hunt Realty had a lot of housing inventory, and most of it was haunted.
"But I didn't know she'd branched out." Elizabeth looked concerned.
"They came to the library to research the love exorcism," Holly said. "It was supposed to drive out Brenda's love for Zach and it was pretty complicated. I had to get a bunch of interlibrary loans to get them everything they needed and Yolanda had to order the supplies through the Internet. Did you know that Amazon carries Santería supplies?" She took a gulp of sangría. "I didn't know. You get Prime delivery and everything."
"You should have warned him," Patricia chided.
"I didn't know they were going to do the spell on him," Holly replied. "I thought it was harmless. In any case, I wasn't the one who left him to the mercies of the Fire & Rescue team."
"She's got you there," Elizabeth noted, smirking.
Patricia stared at her sangría, feeling guilty. "T
hat was kind of heartless, wasn't it?"
"And unexpected," Elizabeth replied. "I don't think I've ever seen you do something like that. You never cross lines."
"She doesn't even get close to the line," Holly agreed. "The line and Patricia aren't even casual acquaintances."
"Zach is a bad influence," Elizabeth giggled. "Even chained-up."
"Blame Zach," Holly agreed with a slightly tipsy smile. "That's the unofficial Banshee Creek motto."
"Very funny, guys," Patricia said, stung. "I'm not so bad, am I?"
Responsibility wasn't such a bad thing, was it? Sure, she could be a bit gun-shy, but that could be a good thing. Look before you leap, that was the way to go.
"Well, you did pioneer the paranormalization of Banshee Creek," Elizabeth admitted. "I was shocked when that happened."
"That was actually Zach's idea," Patricia admitted.
She remembered it clearly. The PRoVE guys -- well they weren't PRoVE then, they were just the Banshee Creek Paranormal Research Institute -- had organized a massive Halloween party in honor of Elizabeth's deceased brother. The party brought so many visitors to the town it broke the Guinness World Record for the Largest Costumed Gathering.
The local business owners worked all night, finally closing down their shops in the wee hours of the morning. They all gathered at the pizzeria, back then it was just a plain white bungalow with vinyl siding and a broken neon sign that read "F anco Pizza," to celebrate. Zach had broken out a couple of bottles of cheap red wine and they'd all compared profits. The bakery made enough in one night to pay for a new oven and roof, the pizzeria made enough for a complete remodel, and the hardware store had been cleaned out of inventory.
That's when Zach decided that this was an opportunity for the whole town. He'd laid it all out in front of them, themed restaurants, monthly events, Internet presence, even, heavens be praised, a strategy for dealing with the dreaded Historical Preservation Committee.
They'd all stared at him in disbelief. It had seemed so unlikely then, just another crazy Zach Franco scheme.
But she remembered. She went home and doodled ghost logos. She experimented with different recipes. She went to various fairs and tried out her new, ghost-themed goods.
And the customers loved them.
They couldn't get enough of the bat-shaped cookies and ghostly meringues, and her Cupcake Tower of Terror was a huge hit.
"He's actually quite a savvy businessman," she said firmly.
Holly glanced down at the sangría pitcher. "I think that's the fermented fruit juice talking, sister."
"He's definitely grown into his business," Elizabeth said. "I never expected to hear Zach extolling the virtues of a piece of accounting software."
"It's a really great program," Patricia protested. "The graphics are amazing."
But Elizabeth focused her laser-sharp gaze on Patricia. "How'd he find out about it?"
"I read up on it and sent him a link," Patricia replied. "NOVA Community College had a course on it and we took it last year."
It had taken a lot of convincing, since Zach was a bit of a technophobe, but she'd done it. And the course had been worth every single second. The software was revolutionary.
"So he gave you a couple of ideas and you introduced him to the wonders of computerized accounting," Holly mused.
"The wonders of computerized everything," Patricia clarified. "The pizzeria didn't even have a website. Although Zach did help me with the bakery's social media. He's very good at that."
And she wasn't. She could do graphics, but social media interaction was a skill she lacked.
"You guys have been hanging out," Holly noted.
Patricia nodded. "It's an exciting time for the town and for our restaurants. We need to do a lot of brainstorming."
In spite of their rivalry, the bakery and the pizzeria had developed a kind of symbiotic relationship. They shared customers, publicity campaigns and events. They even had adjoining booths at the town fairs. But with regards to the Rosemoor, there could only be one winner.
And it was going to be her.
"Yeah," Holly said. "Brenda noticed that."
"What?" Patricia asked, surprised. What did Zach's witchcraft-obsessed ex have to do with anything?
"And she wasn't the only one," Elizabeth added archly.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing," Elizabeth said, reaching for the sangría jar. "Have another drink."
CHAPTER EIGHT
"THE GREAT Scone Destroyer is getting totally hammered," Sarah said, pouring out a Dial M for Manhattan for a customer.
Zach glanced at table nine, where Patricia and her friends were...singing? Well, at least Elizabeth and Holly were, Patricia just looked mortified. And was that the theme from Love Story? It sure sounded like it.
"They're just having a little fun," he said, a bit uncertainly.
Patricia frowned at her friends, hopped out of her chair, almost overturning the table, then walked, somewhat unsteadily, to the restrooms.
He sighed. Patricia couldn't hold her liquor, could she? "Maybe we should send over a complimentary platter of appetizers."
Sarah looked appalled. "You are going to bounce my paycheck."
"A bunch of mozzarella sticks isn't going to break us." He called the order into the kitchen, then added a side of antipasto and some fried ravioli. The girls were on their third jar of sangría, so the mozzarella sticks would need some reinforcements.
She sighed dramatically. "You've always been soft on her."
"What is that supposed to mean?" His tone was sharper than he'd intended, but he couldn't help it.
He was used to Sarah's snarkyness, and it usually didn't bother him. Most of the time he zinged her right back. But this time it was aimed at Patricia and it did bother him.
Sarah rolled her eyes. "You're so clueless. You ask her for advice all the time. You run all our promos by her. You talk to her every single day." She glared at one of their brand new tablets. "You let her talk you into adopting Satan's own accounting program."
"The accounting program is great," he replied testily. "You just have to give it a chance."
They'd been through this a million times. The program was a done deal and most of his staff just had gotten used to it.
But not Sarah.
His restaurant manager waved the tablet at him. "This violates the Geneva Convention, and it's all that woman's fault."
"You're kidding, right?" He grabbed the tablet and cradled it protectively. "This keeps track of everything and gives us hard data on what's popular. It updates our inventory automatically and even checks the supplier prices to get us the best deals."
"It's like working with the HAL 9000," Sara spit out. "Mark my words, it will turn on us."
"Thanks to this thing you got a four digit holiday bonus last month."
"Some things," Sarah huffed haughtily, "are more important than money."
The tablet buzzed, signaling that table nine's order was ready. Sarah glared at the tablet in undisguised loathing.
"I'll handle this one," Zach said, heading for the kitchen.
He picked up the two platters and headed for table nine. He saw Patricia walking in the same direction, looking distracted.
"Careful," he cautioned. "Full load coming through."
Her head jerked and she looked up at him, eyes wide and, truth be told, a little bit glassy. Her cheeks were flushed and her ponytail was slightly askew. Zach tried not to smile, but it was a struggle. He'd never seen Patricia drunk, or even disheveled, before. She was always picture perfect, not a hair out of place.
But not tonight.
She gave him a lopsided smile and followed him to the table, peering at his full tray.
"Those look good," she said. "I guess that pricey new fryer was worth it."
"They're for your table, so I expect a full review."
She laughed, glancing at something behind him.
"If I say they're wonderful, will y
our restaurant manager stop glaring at me?"
He looked back, just in time to see Sarah hastily avert her eyes and focus on wiping the bar.
"I promise nothing," he said. "She's still upset about the software upgrade."
Patricia giggled. "I'm not surprised. Laurie hates it too. She sent me a page-long e-mail tirade about the Panopticon and the all-seeing eye from Mordor."
"The panoptiwhatsit?" He shook his head. "At least my staff speaks in English."
"I had to look it up," Patricia admitted.
Her words were followed by a slight hiccup, and she covered her mouth with her hand.
"Excuse me," she said. "Thanks for the food. Your drinks are strong."
Zach didn't bother to deny that. His bartender didn't skimp on the booze. They reached the table and Elizabeth and Holly cheered when they saw the appetizer platters.
"You're a lifesaver, Zach," Elizabeth said, reaching for a plate.
Patricia sat down and he served her some ravioli. Sarah smirked as she walked by with a tray of desserts, but he ignored her.
"Just making sure you girls are taken care of," he told Elizabeth.
That's all this was. A responsible restaurateur making sure that his customers were happy and safe. It had nothing to do with Patricia, who, he couldn't help but notice, wasn't eating her ravioli. She was checking her smartphone.
"Dig in, baker girl," he ordered sternly.
"It's late," she said, her voice a bit slurred. "I should go pick up my dad."
"I hate to break it to you," Elizabeth said, sounding completely unrepentant. "But you, my friend, are totally sloshed."
"Am not," Patricia protested, spearing an innocent ravioli with her fork, then staring at it as if she could not remember what she intended to do with it.
Holly gave her a pitying look. "You know, it only looks like fruit juice."
"It's just wine," Patricia replied. "And I only had three glasses."
"More like five," Elizabeth corrected. "And I think Zach's secret sangría ingredient is Calvados brandy, so these are actually pretty strong."
Zach glanced at the empty pitcher and quickly calculated exactly how much brandy Patricia had ingested with her five sangría glasses.