by Jinty James
“It’s working!” Zoe grinned as she ended another call. “At this rate, Ed’s pastries will sell out today. Just like old times.”
“But it doesn’t look like my cupcakes will.” Lauren gazed at the tempting array of treats in the glass case. Cinnamon crumble, vanilla, and triple chocolate ganache. She hadn’t sold a single one that morning.
“We’ve still got the lunch rush and this afternoon.” Zoe tried to cheer her up.
“There wasn’t much of a rush yesterday.” Now it was Lauren’s turn to be glum.
“You’ll see.”
True to their word, customers picked up Ed’s pastries. But unfortunately, on their way out of the café, they detoured to the cupcake truck.
“Look!” Lauren grabbed Zoe’s arm and pointed at the window. “They’re buying his cupcakes!”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” Zoe’s eyes widened. “Now we’re giving Smirky Jason extra business!”
They stared at each other. Lauren was relieved that she didn’t have rent or a mortgage to pay and had a small cushion of profit so if the worst came to the worst, she could still pay Zoe’s and Ed’s wages. As well as her own. For a little while, anyway.
The tiny lunch rush cheered them up, but it was only a trickle compared to other days – before the cupcake truck had invaded.
“I’ve got an idea.” Zoe grinned, for an instant looking like the zippy Zoe she’d been the day before Jason and his cupcake truck had arrived for the first time.
“What is it?”
“Brrt?” Annie called from her cat bed. She hadn’t been very cheery that day either, despite making up with Martha. None of her favorite customers had come in.
“You’ll see.” Zoe giggled. “I’ll need about fifteen minutes, though.”
“No problem.” Lauren looked around the now empty café.
She watched Zoe zoom through the private hallway to the cottage, wondering what her cousin was up to.
When Zoe didn’t emerge, she sank back down on the stool and tried to come up with some new flavor ideas. But her mind was blank. Maybe just sitting here and forcing herself to be creative wasn’t working.
A black blur from outside the café caught her eye. Frowning, she walked over to the glass plated entrance door, opened the door and stepped outside. A person clad in black, and wearing a black beret and black sunglasses, stood near the truck, as if reading the menu taped to the side of the serving hatch. Then that person stepped up and spoke to Scott, Jason’s friend.
Lauren blinked as she watched the stranger hand over some money and receive a large bag in return. The clothes seemed familiar.
“No way,” she breathed.
A black sweater, black pants, black sneakers – the outfit was identical – apart from the sunglasses – to the one Zoe had worn a few months ago when she’d played cat burglar.
Chris, a tall guy in his late twenties with even, attractive features, whom Zoe was dating, strode toward the café, then did a double take as he glanced at the pink truck, and the person being served.
“Zoe, is that you?”
“Vat?” The person in black turned around. “Who iz dis Zoe?” The female voice had a thick French accent.
“It is you!” He came over to her.
Lauren took a few steps towards the duo, intrigued. What on earth was Zoe up to? Surely it was her, clad in that all black ensemble.
“I haf no idee vat you are talking about.” The female shook her head and attempted to walk past him.
“I know it’s you.” He fell in step beside her.
“Come, and you vill zee it iz not,” she said dramatically, pulling him toward the café. Lauren held the door open for them, shutting it firmly behind her.
The female cast a backward glance at the pink truck through the window, but Scott was now busy serving four giggling teenage girls.
“You nearly blew my cover!” Zoe yanked off the beret and sunglasses. “I was on a mission!”
“And what would that be?” Chris asked, an amused look on his face.
“These!” She held up the large pink bag. “Lauren and I need to test them to see why everyone is buying them.”
“And you couldn’t do that in regular clothes?” Chris gestured to her ensemble.
“Of course not.” Zoe frowned at him. “What if Scott recognized me?”
“Who’s Scott?”
“The guy at the truck.” She jerked her head toward the window. “I thought Smirky Jason might recognize me, even in this—” she waved a hand at her clothes “—but I didn’t think Scott would. And I was right!”
“I think your French accent needs work,” Chris said, stifling a smile.
“Critics.” Zoe sniffed in a good-natured way. “Now, we’d better try these cupcakes before anyone catches us.”
“Brrt?” Annie jumped out of her cat bed and trotted toward them, an inquiring look on her face.
“Hi, Annie.” Chris bent down to pet her.
“Brrp.” Hi.
Lauren fetched plates, and they all sat down to try the cakes.
“You can have some of mine,” Zoe said to Chris.
“Thanks.” He grinned at her.
Lauren wished Mitch could be here, but he was busy at work. She looked at Chris enquiringly.
“Day off,” he replied to her unspoken question. He worked as a paramedic in Sacramento. “I thought I’d stop by and see Zoe.”
“Any other time you would have been welcome.” Zoe smiled at him. She cut each cupcake into half, gave Lauren her share, and then cut her halves into a sixty-forty split. She gave Chris the forty percent pieces. “Give us your honest opinion.”
Lauren looked at the offerings. It seemed Zoe had bought one of each flavor – carrot, red velvet, chocolate, and raspberry. Each cupcake had huge, wobbly swirls of frosting with edible decorations crammed into the surface.
Lauren took a bite of raspberry. And blinked. The sweetness hit her right away, coating her teeth in an avalanche of sugary, slightly grainy frosting.
When she was actually able to taste the cake part, she frowned. Getting up, she got three glasses of water and set them out on the table.
“We might need these,” she said.
“Brrt,” Annie replied in agreement. She sat at the fourth chair, watching the three of them – and the cupcakes – with wide eyes.
“Good idea,” Zoe mumbled around a mouthful of cake. She made a face and swallowed quickly. “Well, I don’t think much of this chocolate flavor.” Colorful sprinkles, white and pink mini marshmallows, and silver sugar pearls fell off the frosting and scattered onto her plate.
“Let me try.” This time Lauren ignored the frosting and just tasted the crumb of her share of the chocolate cake. She gulped down some water. “You’re right.” She stared at her cousin. “You don’t think – he’s using a box mix, do you?”
Zoe snapped her fingers. “Hey, I bet that’s it!”
“You don’t think he made these himself?” Chris put down his half eaten red-velvet sample.
“What do you think?” Lauren gestured to his plate.
“Yeah, you’re our male taster,” Zoe told him. “Although more women than men come in here and buy Lauren’s creations.”
“But some of them take them home for their husbands as well,” Lauren reminded her.
“True. And Mitch enjoys your cupcakes – especially vanilla,” Zoe teased.
Lauren hoped the small touch of heat on her cheeks wasn’t showing.
“What’s your verdict?” Zoe asked Chris.
“It’s okay.” He shrugged.
“Okay?” Zoe narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean, ‘It’s okay’?”
“I mean, I guess this cupcake is okay.” He motioned to the smidgen left on his plate. “It’s not as good as Lauren’s, that’s for sure, but it’s not so bad I’m going to take it back to the truck and ask for a refund if I’d bought it.”
Zoe’s eyes remained narrowed. “But you can taste the difference, right? Bet
ween Lauren’s and Smirky Jason’s?”
“Of course,” Chris assured her.
All three females continued to stare at him.
“Which one would you want to buy the most?” Zoe continued to interrogate him.
“Lauren’s, of course,” Chris assured them.
“Good answer.” Zoe sounded partly mollified.
“What did you think of the frosting?” Lauren asked him.
“Too sweet,” he replied promptly.
“Hmm. You might have just passed the cupcake test,” Zoe told him.
“Do you cupcake test all the guys you date?” Chris joked.
“Just you so far,” Zoe replied.
They shared an affectionate look.
After a moment, Lauren cleared her throat.
“So why are people buying these cupcakes if they’re not too good?” she asked.
“Because like you said before, they’re new and different,” Zoe answered promptly.
“Yeah, and the truck is right outside. They don’t have to come in here and order something.”
The three of them looked at Chris.
“It’s not my fault people are lazy.” He shook his head.
“But we’ve got Annie,” Lauren told him.
“Brrt!” That’s right.
“And he’s got a French bulldog called Sweet Boy,” Zoe said glumly.
“I’m sure once your customers try his cakes and realize they’re not as good as yours, they’ll come back to you,” Chris said.
“I hope so,” Lauren replied. “While there’s still a café to come back to.”
CHAPTER 3
That evening, Lauren had dinner with Mitch. They visited their favorite restaurant, a small bistro on the outskirts of Gold Leaf Valley. He listened attentively to her cupcake woes, telling her she should have called him today when the truck had returned.
“I’ll take care of it if he comes back,” he promised.
“Thanks.” She smiled at him over their shared dessert of caramel brownie and vanilla bean ice-cream.
Lauren felt a lot better about the situation as Mitch drove her home. He’d been busy investigating a series of burglaries which had taken up a lot of his time lately, and they hadn’t seen each other as much as usual.
“We should be able to close this case soon,” he told her as he pulled up outside her cottage.
“Good,” she said, before they kissed goodnight.
He walked her up the porch steps.
“Are Zoe and Annie spying on us tonight?” he asked.
“I don’t think so. Since Zoe’s been dating Chris, I think she’s delegated the spying duties to Annie.”
He chuckled, then kissed her tenderly once more.
“I’ll try to stop by the café tomorrow,” he told her.
She nodded, then let herself inside.
“Did you have a good time?” Zoe appeared in front of her in the hallway.
Lauren placed a hand on her chest, inhaling quickly. “Don’t scare me like that!”
“Sorry.”
“Brrp?” Annie came running from the living room. She didn’t like to be left out of things.
“So you two weren’t spying tonight?” Lauren asked.
“Nope.” Zoe grinned. “Not this time.”
THE NEXT MORNING, FRIDAY, Zoe hummed as she slathered butter on her toast.
“It’s club night at Mrs. Finch’s,” she mentioned to Lauren and Annie.
“Mm,” Lauren mumbled around a mouthful of granola.
“Brrt!” Yes!
The four of them belonged to a craft club started by Zoe, but held at the house of one of their favorite customers, an elderly lady called Mrs. Finch.
Zoe had started a few different crafts, and was now keen on exploring pottery.
“I’m going to show Mrs. Finch the ashtray I made in class last week,” Zoe said. “I can’t wait until she sees it!”
“How is class going?” Lauren asked.
“Good.”
Zoe’s classes were held in Sacramento, and she usually caught up with Chris afterward, if he wasn’t on duty.
Both of them had started off with knitting, which Lauren continued to do. So far, she’d made two scarves and two hats, one each for her and Mitch.
Zoe had: knitted blankets for Annie, crocheted a scarf for herself, made string-art pictures (one of which had prime wall placement in the café, depicting a pink-frosted cupcake), made bead jewelry, and was now turning lumps of clay into ashtrays.
“What are you going to do with your ashtray?” Lauren asked. “We don’t smoke.”
“I thought I could put it here on the table.” Zoe tapped the wooden table. “For our keys.”
“Good idea.”
“Brrt.”
They finished breakfast and left for work.
After unstacking all the chairs, Lauren started baking cupcakes, including a batch of vanilla.
On the dot of nine-thirty, they opened for customers.
“Oh, hello, Lauren.” Ms. Tobin entered.
“Hi, Ms. Tobin,” Lauren said cheerfully.
“Brrt!” Annie trotted over to her.
“Where should I sit, Annie dear?” the tall, slim woman in her fifties peered down at Annie.
“Brrt.” Over here. Annie led the way to a small table near the counter.
“Lauren, I hope that cupcake fellow isn’t stealing your business.” Ms. Tobin looked around the empty café.
“I’m afraid he is,” Lauren replied glumly.
“Yeah.” Zoe popped up behind the counter.
“What can we get you?” Lauren approached their only customer.
“I have a confession to make.” Ms. Tobin looked discomfited. “I must admit, when I was at my friend’s place yesterday, she offered me one of the cupcakes—” she lowered her voice, although there wasn’t anyone else around “—from the truck.”
“What did you think?” Lauren asked curiously.
“It was not as good as yours, Lauren.” Ms. Tobin shook her head. “Frankly, I was surprised that my friend seemed to like them. We tried two flavors – carrot, and chocolate. I thought she had a discerning palate like my own, but now—”
“We tried them yesterday too,” Zoe confessed. “Yuck!”
“My friend raved about how good-looking the cupcake man was, and how he must have tried hard to make the frosting perfect like yours, Lauren, and how thoughtful it was of him to put so many edible decorations on top. But it was just too sugary sweet for me, I’m afraid.”
“I’m glad you haven’t defected, Ms. Tobin,” Zoe told her.
“Brrt!” Annie sat on the opposite chair.
“Of course I would never do such a thing.” Ms. Tobin smiled fondly at Annie. “The cupcake truck doesn’t sell coffee, my friend told me, so I’m sure everyone will come back here. Believe me, I will never be tempted to buy anything from that truck after my sample yesterday.”
“That’s good to know,” Lauren replied. At least they still had one loyal customer.
“Besides,” Ms. Tobin added, “when I walked past the truck the first day he was here, he smirked at me. My mother told me never to trust a smirking man.”
Chug chug, grr grr.
“Oh no.” Lauren felt sick. “He’s back!”
“Let me see.” Zoe raced to the window. “Yep.”
“Oh, dear.” Ms. Tobin frowned. “What will you two do?”
“Call Mitch.” Lauren hurried to the counter and grabbed her phone.
“Mitch said it’s illegal for him to park and trade here like this.” Zoe came back to Ms. Tobin’s table.
“I’m glad someone is looking out for you.” Ms. Tobin smiled.
“We can look out for ourselves,” Zoe told her. “But it’s nice to have back up.”
“Brrt!” Annie agreed.
“I had to leave a message.” Lauren furrowed her brow.
“That’s no good.” Zoe grimaced. “Maybe we should ask Ed to take care of things – he did off
er.”
“I know, but I don’t want to have to ask him to do something like that,” Lauren replied.
“Free samples!” they heard distantly from the street. “Get your free samples!”
“What?” Lauren and Zoe looked at each other.
“Call Mitch again,” Zoe urged.
Lauren did so, but his voicemail came on once more. She didn’t want to end up sounding crazy by leaving a ton of messages for him to listen to, so she ended the call without leaving another. She knew he’d get back to her as soon as he could.
“It looks like we’re on our own,” she told her cousin.
“I’m going out there.” Zoe dusted her hands together, as if getting ready for a confrontation.
“Will you be okay here by yourself, Ms. Tobin?” Lauren asked. “Ed’s in the kitchen.”
“I’ll be fine,” Ms. Tobin assured them.
“Come on.” Zoe led the way out of the café, Lauren in the middle and Annie bringing up the rear.
“Only if I hold you.” Lauren turned around, bent down, and opened her arms. Annie jumped into them and nestled in the embrace.
“What are you doing?” Zoe demanded as she neared the truck. Once again, the pink vehicle was parked just a few yards from the café, in front of Lauren’s car.
“Finding customers.” Jason smirked. “It’s a free country.”
“Not around here it’s not,” Zoe informed him. “The police have already told you it’s illegal to park here and do business.”
He shrugged. “Then they can move me on.”
“Woof!” The French bulldog appeared, his head appearing in the serving hatch, but this time he had a red collar around his neck with a large paper sign attached to it.
Lauren read the sign.
“My name is Sweet Boy. Aren’t I cute?”
“Brrt?” Annie wriggled in Lauren’s arms, and stretched out a paw towards Sweet Boy.
“Woof!” Sweet Boy bared his teeth.
Lauren didn’t think it was a smile.
“I think Annie’s trying to say hello to Sweet Boy,” she told Jason.
“He doesn’t like cats. He thinks this is his territory and cats don’t belong here.” A shark-like grin stretched across Jason’s lips.