Sugar and Vice

by Eve Calder

  Kate nodded, as she pulled the focaccia from the case. “He went to your Valentine’s Day party.”

  Harp grinned. “Half of Florida did, apparently. But that evening is a bit of a blur. So much to do behind the scenes. And seriously, what I do recall, I wish I could forget. Caroline was rather displeased that night. It seemed nothing was quite up to her standards. Including me.”

  “I saw the photos at the library,” Kate said. “The party looked spectacular. And everyone was so glamorous. I noticed that Teddy was dressed as a musketeer. I was wondering if you might know where he got his costume?”

  “No idea,” Harp said. “Everyone supplied their own. And Caroline procured ours. I remember that because I never would have chosen Louis XVI. The Sun King, perhaps. He had much more fun. So how goes the search for Gentleman George?”

  “We’re plodding along,” Kate said, smiling. “It really is a fascinating story.”

  “That’s why I’m here, actually. I fear I was a bit churlish at the book club meeting. And I must admit more than a dollop of that was a certain animosity toward your friend from New York. I wasn’t at my best. I’m truly sorry.”

  Behind the counter, Oliver inched over and stepped on her foot. When Kate looked down, the pup gazed up at her, concern in his dark eyes.

  “Anyway,” Harp continued breezily, “I’m given to understand that the Gentleman George project is particularly near and dear to our illustrious leader. And Barb does so much for Coral Cay. So I want to volunteer my services to help. Whatever you need.”

  “That’s great news,” Kate said, relieved. “And I’m sure Barb will be glad to hear it, too. I was wondering if you might have any books on Sir George or anything that might reference the local pirate legends?”

  “Honestly, that was more of my ex’s bailiwick. And I wouldn’t exactly feel right rifling through her things.”

  “No, of course not,” Kate agreed.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Harp said, snapping his fingers. “Let me look on the bookshelves in our library. That part of the house is community property, so to speak. So she can’t very well begrudge me access to that. Especially for such a worthy cause. Besides, Caroline always did appreciate a good treasure hunt.”

  Chapter 50

  Kate had just gotten the first layer of icing onto the treasure chest. The shape was perfect. Now with a layer of what she liked to think of as “primer” in place, she was ready for the fun part.

  She retrieved her sketches—as well as some of Effie’s photocopies—from the kitchen table.

  That’s when she heard the shop bell. And prayed it was Sam. She’d gotten the cases restocked, and in between her cake work, she’d even managed to bake up more cookies. But they could use breads. And those were Sam’s specialty.

  “Hey there, Katie, it’s me. And someone out here wants to meet you.” Evan.

  Kate sighed.

  “Don’t tell me you had a sudden craving for cookies?” she said, barreling through the shop door.

  When she saw Evan, she stopped cold. The man she kept hoping would disappear from her life was standing in the bakery cradling a small, fluffy white and black puppy.

  “What are you doing?” Kate asked astonished.

  “Hi there, Katie-pie,” Evan said, using the puppy’s tiny paw to wave at her. “Is he adorable or what? He doesn’t have a name yet. I figured that was something for his new lady. At the pound, they’re pretty sure he’s something called a ‘Parson Russell Terrier.’”

  “You adopted a dog?”

  “Not a dog. A puppy. And this one doesn’t hate me. You know, like that other one.”

  “Oliver. His name is Oliver. And what are you going to do with a dog?”

  “It’s not for me,” he said, turning up the wattage on his smile. “It’s for you. A present.”

  To the puppy he said, “Aren’t you?”

  Evan held the dog up in front of Kate. “Tell me this isn’t the cutest little face you’ve ever seen.”

  “Evan, I can’t keep a dog. I have a dog. And he’s housebroken. Wait a minute,” Kate said, as a stray thought struck her brain like a lightning bolt. “How did they get this number? When I applied, I put my cell number on my résumé. But they called the bakery. And there’s no way they’d have this number. Or even know I was here. It was you!”

  “What was me?” To the puppy he said, “She’s crazy, but she loves you. She really does.”

  “The job offer from Caullet,” Kate said, feeling her face go hot. “That was you. Admit it.”

  “You got a job offer from Chef Caullet? That’s great, honey. That’s always been your dream.”

  “Don’t call me ‘honey.’ And it was my dream. Before. Now, this is my dream.”

  “Not too late for a mid-course correction,” he said, looking around. “Look, the truth is, the Thorpes have spent enough on food and drinks with Caullet to earn a couple of favors. So yes, I cashed one in. For you. To make your dream come true. And I never knew you liked dogs. But now I do. And that other thing is too big for our Manhattan penthouse. Especially with your hours. But this little guy,” Evan said, hoisting the puppy up over the counter.

  “Our Manhattan penthouse?”

  “Yeah, didn’t I tell you? I snagged us the top spot in the Excalibur. Got a really sweet deal, too. I already took care of the closing, and we can move in whenever we want.”

  “I don’t want. And what was with telling everyone in town that you were buying a house in Coral Cay?”

  “Hey, we can do that too, if we see something we really like. Nothing wrong with having a winter place. Now look at that fat little tummy. Tell me you don’t want to give him a good home?”

  “Yes, of course I want to give him a good home,” Kate said, tearing around the counter and lifting the small creature carefully from Evan’s hands. “But I don’t want to give you a good home. Not anymore.”

  Shielding the puppy with her body, she felt the urge to protect him from the world. And especially from Evan Thorpe.

  “Look, I don’t expect you to understand,” she said, lowering her voice so that she didn’t scare the furry little bundle in her arms. “But I am happy here. I’m not going back. To Manhattan or to you. So if that’s the only reason you’re here, you need to go home now.”

  Chapter 51

  “OK, but you gotta admit, this beats flowers,” Maxi said, as she sat on the sofa of the flower shop holding the drowsy puppy in her lap. “I mean, it’s not like you can refuse delivery or regift him.”

  Maxi stroked the puppy’s pink tummy, and he wriggled happily.

  “Score one for Evan.” Kate said grimly.

  “Where did he get him?”

  “Evan said he was from the pound. The truth is, I have no idea.”

  “OK, maybe we could find him a home,” Maxi said. “We could talk to Dr. Scanlon. He could put out the word.”

  “Actually, that’s a great idea. But what do I do with him tonight? I have one night to make a chocolate cake look like a treasure chest. And I have to finish tomorrow’s baking. And I’m pretty sure this sweet little thing violates just about every bakery health code there is.”

  She looked over at the furry little creature and felt her heart melt. “Why does he have to be so cute?”

  “It’s a trap,” Maxi said. “Like babies. Face it, these little ones? They need you to do everything for them. All they’ve got is cute. And they use it to their advantage. It’s their superpower.”

  Kate sat on the sofa, reached over, and rubbed the puppy’s back. He let out a long, contented sigh.

  “Look, corizon, the treasure chest thing’s my fault,” Maxi said, stroking the puppy’s head with one finger, as he answered with a soft mewling sound. “I could take him to my house. Just for the night. We can run him to Dr. Scanlon’s office in the morning.”

  “I can’t ask you to do that. This isn’t your mess, it’s mine.”

  “Hey, it’s at least half mine,” Maxi said, grinning. “Gi
mme some credit. Besides, watching mi niños play with a puppy? Best night ever.”

  Chapter 52

  Just as Kate was finishing wiping down the bakery counters, the phone rang.

  “The Cookie House, this is Kate.”

  “Oh my gosh, Katie, how are you?” her sister Jeanine asked.

  “Doing great, Jeanine. How are you guys?”

  “Oh, you know how it is. I’ve just been so busy. So very busy. It’s not easy having not just one, but two tremendously gifted children. Billy’s teachers absolutely insisted that we feed his exploding intellect with a complete slate of educational enrichment during the school break. His little mind is just thirsty for knowledge.”

  Summer school again. Kate felt for the poor kid. Only in the third grade, and Billy was three for three. On the bright side, if they kept him busy, he had less time to blow things up—which seemed to be his favorite hobby.

  “And of course Wendy just got back from violin camp. She’s so musical. It just pours out of her.”

  As if on cue, Kate could hear the screeching start up in the background. It sounded like a cat yowling on the back fence. How could someone play for two and a half years and never improve?

  “She’s a natural talent, and it’s up to us, as her parents, to help her make the most of it. Of course, that means a lot of sacrifice,” Jeanine said, sighing. “You wouldn’t know anything about that. But hopefully, someday soon. Right?”

  Jeanine was the only person Kate had met who made motherhood sound both awful and inevitable. Admittedly, until recently, none of Kate’s close friends even had children. So until she’d met Maxi—and seen a very different approach—she’d all but written it off. But now, Kate had to admit, she saw the appeal.

  “Not in the immediate future,” Kate said carefully.

  “Well, of course. You want to have some time together as a couple first. That’s true. I’m just very happy to hear that you and Evan are patching things up. That boy is good for you. And he truly loves you. You know, you’re not going to find another one like that.”

  “I hope not,” Kate said lightly.

  “Well, no. He’s your one and only. Now, I was thinking. For Thanksgiving this year, I’d like to host. Take the heavy lifting off your shoulders. All you two have to do is show up. And we definitely want to invite his folks. It’s high time the two families met…”

  “Jeanine, Evan and I aren’t getting back together. We broke up months ago.”

  “Every couple has spats. Believe me, I know that. But you came to your senses. That’s what’s important. Dave and I like Evan, Katie. We approve of him.”

  “Jeanine,” Kate said quietly, “what on earth makes you think that we’re getting back together?”

  “Evan has told me how much he loves you. Do you know he actually cried when you broke off the engagement? He called me on the phone, and he cried. It broke my heart, Katie. Just broke my heart. As a happily married woman, I’m telling you, you’d be a fool to pass up a man who loves you that much. And you are a lot of things, Katie McGuire, but you are no fool. Look, you threw your little tantrum and ran away from home. But he’s willing to be the adult in the relationship. He came after you and proved that. Now it’s time to be a big girl and come home.”

  “Jeanine, you’re my sister and I love you. But I don’t love Evan. We weren’t right for each other. And I’m not going to marry him. But if you guys want to come down here for Thanksgiving, that would be wonderful. You can see my bakery, and I’ll show you around Coral Cay. And you can meet my friends. I hope you consider it. I’d love to see you all.”

  “I’m afraid that simply won’t be possible,” Jeanine said frostily. “And all I can say, Katie, is that you certainly have a lot of growing up to do.”

  Chapter 53

  As Kate put the finishing touches on the treasure chest cake, she glanced at the clock on the stove. Almost two in the morning. Oliver was snoozing under the kitchen table. She could hear the soft snuffle sounds as his fluffy chest moved rhythmically up and down.

  In the old days, when Sam ran the place by himself, he’d have just been showing up at the bakery about this time. But between the two of them that evening, they’d managed to whip up enough breads, rolls, and cookies to restock the shop for tomorrow.

  She hoped Sam was getting a good night’s sleep. He’d earned it. And if the morning’s traffic was anything like yesterday’s, he was going to need it. As she touched up the chocolate treasure box—as she’d come to think of it—that reminded her that it was past time to bake up more doubloons. And that led her mind right back to Gentleman George. Something was bothering her. But it just wouldn’t come.

  She leaned over one side of the cake, to even out one of the “brass” straps on the chest. But she couldn’t quite reach the spot. She sighed and turned the cake stand to get a better angle. It would be so much easier if she were ambidextrous.

  That’s when it hit her.

  Kate dropped the icing bag on the counter and reached into the cupboard for her backpack. She lifted out the file folder for the book club project and opened it. The portrait of Gentleman George was right on top.

  It was exactly as she remembered. The sumptuous uniform, the devil-may-care grin. But one detail hadn’t registered. Until now. It was the pirate’s right hand that rested lightly on his sword—a sword that he wore on his right side.

  Kate grabbed a clean butter knife from the drawer. She tucked it carefully into her right jeans pocket. Then she tried to draw it out quickly with her right hand. Awkward. And with a long blade, like a sword, it would be even more impossible. But with her left hand, the move was easy.

  So if the old pirate wore his scabbard on the right, that could only mean one thing: Gentleman George Bly was left-handed.

  She looked at Henry’s portrait. The man clutched his book with both hands. And while there was a scattering of objects across the desk, absolutely nothing in the painting gave any indication of whether he wrote with his left hand or his right.

  She recalled the cramped writing from his letter to Jayne. She ran upstairs, pulled the correspondence book from her bedside table and opened it carefully, turning pages until she reached Henry’s letter.

  The small writing, even the ostentatious signature—it all slanted to the left. And there was a telltale smear—where the side of his hand dragged across the ink before it had completely dried. Henry Bly, like his brother George, was left-handed.

  Not an earth-shattering discovery, she realized. Not treasure or even history. But a little personal detail. Like she was somehow getting to know the real George Bly across a four-hundred-year divide.

  It probably wouldn’t rate a thumbtack on Barb’s pirate history display board. But Kate felt a spark. Like she understood the old pirate just a little better. And there was one less secret between them.

  Chapter 54

  The sun was just beginning to climb in the sky, as Kate walked barefoot along the beach. Oliver padded along beside her, his purple Frisbee in his mouth.

  The morning air was still cool. A stiff breeze blew in off the Gulf. Just off the shore, seagulls skimmed the waves, plucking morsels from the water for their breakfast.

  “If you want to toss a Frisbee, Oliver, this is definitely the place to do it,” Kate said, brushing sand from the front of her shorts. “What say we give it a shot?”

  The pup dropped his prize in the sand and stood at the ready, vibrating with excitement. Kate flung the disc and watched it sail.

  But a flying disc was no match for a flying dog. Time and time again, the poodle mix chased down the toy and snatched it out of midair.

  Off in the distance, Kate spotted someone, moving at a good clip on the wet sand. A runner. And something about him seemed familiar.

  As he got closer, Kate realized it was Jack Scanlon.

  Disc still in his mouth, Oliver reversed course and headed for the vet. The pup ran past him, circled around and dropped the Frisbee at his feet. Then he planted his
front paws in the sand and ducked his head. An invitation to play.

  “Is it my imagination, or is he actually running rings around me,” the vet said, smiling.

  “Puppy energy,” Kate said. “There’s nothing like it.”

  Jack picked up the disc and let it fly. Oliver was off and running. He neatly snagged his quarry, landing gracefully in the sand.

  “He’s really good at this,” Jack said. “Did you teach him?”

  “No, he just started doing it one day. It’s possible someone else in town taught him. He’s very social.”

  “I can see that,” Jack said, laughing. “But I’ve never seen a poodle do that—catch a disc. Got to be the golden in him. Great exercise, though. Do you guys come out here every morning?”

  “No, I’m still getting settled in,” Kate said. “I hate to admit it, but right now there’s no such thing as a regular morning. I put in a late night decorating a cake, and this seemed like a good way to shake things up this morning.”

  “I’m in pretty much the same boat,” Jack admitted. “Now that the clinic’s open, there’s no such thing as an average day. It’s always different. But I figured I’d take a little time this morning to enjoy the beach.”

  “Now you’re thinking like a native,” Kate said. “One of the first things I learned when I arrived—the tourists have sunburns, the locals don’t. They hit the beach in the early mornings or the late evenings. Usually with a hat.”

  “You do the same thing in the Rockies, believe it or not,” he said. “Glare. For me, it’s not just about the exercise. Or even the scenery—although this is hard to beat. I need to familiarize myself with the island—and the beaches.” He looked over at her, and down at the sand. “Keep a secret?”

  “Of course,” Kate said, intrigued.

  “I didn’t relocate just to get away from the frozen winters,” he said, cracking a smile. “Although, that was part of it. I’m taking classes in marine biology. I want to lend a hand with some of the local conservation efforts. Helping animals that are displaced or relocated. There are a lot of good people doing some important work here. I want to be part of it. It’s why I became a vet.”