Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
One way or another, I intend to get to the bottom of whatever’s going on, and I’m not above eavesdropping to do it.
Matty shoots me a hard look as I tail him around to open Mel’s door. It slows him down enough that by the time he reaches for the door handle, Mel is already emerging from the car. She shoots a quick grin my way, saying, “Hey, Nora,” before turning to glare up at her much taller twin, “What the actual fuck is going on, Matty?”
“I told you, I can’t talk about it right now,” he says, motioning toward me and Clyde, who is now poking his head out of my coat to sniff the air. “I just need you to keep an eye on Nora and the cat for an hour. Two at the very most. Then, I’ll be back, and I’ll explain everything.”
Melissa snorts out a laugh as she crosses her arms. “Who do you think you’re kidding?”
Matty blinks. “What do you mean?”
“I’m your sister, Matty. I know when you’re lying. And you never explain everything, you haven’t for years, and I’m sick of it. I want answers now, or I’m going home.” She glances my way, her voice gentling again as she adds, “I can take you and your cat home first though, Nora, if you need a ride.”
“Well, he’s not actually my—”
Matty cuts me off with a sharp, “She can’t go home. Not yet. And she can’t be seen anywhere someone might think to look for me. That’s why we’re here. No one knows you own Deliciously Yours.”
Mel’s brows shoot up with a startled sound. “Yes, they do.”
“No, they don’t,” Matty insists, before muttering, “At least, not the people I’m worried about.”
“Matty, what’s going on?” Mel asks, her frustration giving way to concern. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“That’s what I’m worried about, too,” I pipe up. I momentarily consider telling Mel who Clyde really is, but it feels disloyal to Matty, so I settle for, “And this isn’t my cat. It’s Matty’s.”
Melissa does a double take her brother’s way. “What? When did you get a cat?”
“Just take Nora inside, make her a cup of tea and play Scrabble or something until I get back,” Matty says, backing away toward his SUV. “Just don’t leave the cottage and don’t let anyone else know you’re here, okay?”
“Matty, I—”
“Pikachu Promise,” Matty says, silencing Mel, who goes still beside me.
When I glance down at her, her face is pale.
“Okay,” she murmurs, nodding numbly. “Okay. We’ll wait until you get back. But hurry. I’m worried.”
“It’s going to be okay,” Matty says, holding her gaze as he reaches for the driver’s side door. “See you both in a little while.” He glances my way, looking like he’s about to add something more, but after a beat, he slides behind the wheel without a word.
A minute later, he’s gone, and Mel and I are alone in the damp.
Clyde belches, as if to remind me that he’s mixed up in all this mess, too.
Mel cuts a look my way. “Was that the cat?”
“It was. He has a bit of a funny tummy.”
She reaches out, rubbing the fur between his ears, making his warm body begin to rumble against my chest. “Poor little guy. Well, let’s head inside. I can get him some water, at least. And we can get out of the rain. At least it’s slowed down some.” She sighs as she starts up the porch steps, pulling out her keys. “But it’s supposed to pick up again tomorrow morning and keep going through most of the weekend. I was supposed to cater a wedding on Saturday, but the bride shot me a message an hour ago that she needs to shift the date. Apparently, her venue by the lake is already almost underwater.”
“Oh, no,” I say, following her. “Does that mean you’re stuck paying for all the food?”
“No, she’s going to pay me double,” Mel says as she unlocks the door. “Which means steak and chicken for a week at my house and a massive donation to the local food pantry. But that isn’t even the best part. Come on, I’ll show you.” She motions me inside, flicking on lights as she dumps her purse on a small table inside the door. I keep mine slung across my chest, since the strap is currently under both Clyde and my borrowed coat. She moves past rows of shiny, stainless steel prep tables toward the walk-in fridge on the other wall, pausing to grin at me as she grips the handle. “Are you ready?”
I nod, stroking Clyde, who’s still purring happily. “Ready.”
She opens the walk-in with a flourish, revealing a stunning, three-tier wedding cake decorated in gorgeous red poppy flowers made of icing.
“Oh, wow,” I murmur, my mouth instantly starting to water. That pot pie was excellent, but it wasn’t cake.