“Not that time, but it’s coming,” Gumbo said with a swish of his tail.
“It would never work between us. He just found out about witches, and he’s magically null. We’re mismatched. It could never work long-term,” I said.
“Sounds like you’re trying too hard to convince yourself,” Gumbo said.
Before I could respond, he jumped off the table and ran down the hall. He’d be back when his glazed carrots were ready.
For the time being, I stirred my cocoa and told myself that Mitch and I were better off as friends.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I was back at the bakery a couple of days later working my first full official shift with Newman. Apparently, danger sharpened his senses and made him more graceful.
Once the danger passed, he was back to breaking too many eggs and dropping things. I wasn’t mad, though. He was a skilled kitchen witch, other than his clumsiness, and a delight to have around.
He took it good-naturedly when the elderly members of the local book club gave him a good ribbing. They met at the bakery once a week, and were having a good time teasing Newman as he dropped his third scone and then spilled coffee on his shoes.
I watched him turn twenty shades of red, but he never stopped smiling. When he tripped over his own feet, I decided to make him some Poise Pastries. If nothing else, it would keep him from breaking anything else.
As I went into the back, Aunt Emma popped in. The smile on her face told me that she’d finally appeared where she’d intended.
“Coffee?” I asked. “I’m about to start making some Poise Pastries for Newman.”
“A cup of coffee would be divine, dear,” she said. “Maybe a little something to eat? I’m a wee bit peckish.”
“Sure. We have Celebration Cupcakes today. They have sprinkles,” I said and waggled my eyebrows.
“Sold.”
I got Aunt Emma a cup of coffee and a cupcake. She stood in the kitchen with me and we chatted while I got the dough ready for the Poise Pastries.
“These are going to need something extra sweet to cover the taste of catnip and dandelion,” I mused. “Maybe chocolate is the best cover.”
“Chocolate is always good,” Aunt Emma said. “Cinnamon too. It will light a fire in him.”
“Good call,” I said.
“Don’t forget galangal,” she said.
“I think I have some.”
“If not, I can pop out and get some from my stash,” Aunt Emma offered.
“I think I’ve got it. Be right back.”
When I came back from the pantry with the herbs I needed, Aunt Emma had eaten around half of her cupcake. I refilled her coffee and then worked the herbs into the pastry dough.
“Did you ever find out who stole that first talisman?” Aunt Emma asked. “I know it was Dierdre who took the others, but it wasn’t her at first, right?”
Jenny came into the back just then. “It was Trevor and Hank,” she said. “They were working together to wind Marcel up and hopefully scare him off. They wanted him to stop writing those stupid tell-alls and dividing the town. It was a misguided attempt.”
“Interesting,” Aunt Emma said. “No bother now, though, right? Things can go back to normal now. The murder is solved and life is better.”
“I agree,” Jenny said with a smile.
“Me too,” Newman called from up front. “Things are great.”
“I want carrot cake,” Gumbo groused from my office.
I was just happy that I’d made it through the ordeal with my life and my business still intact. While Jenny and Aunt Emma gossiped about the Darlington’s fall from grace, I put the pastries together and slid them into the oven.
As I was taking off my apron, Newman called out to me from the front. “Boss, there’s a Detective Landry here to see you. He said that he’ll only accept his coffee and donuts from you.”
Despite myself, a smile spread across my face. “Tell Detective Landry that I will be with him in a moment.”
“Don’t keep me waiting too long, Ms. Moonfall,” Mitch called out.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Thank you for reading!
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© Sara Bourgeois 2020
This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons alive or dead is a coincidence.
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