"Too many," Josie replied as she handed the photo back.
Sarah lowered her eyes to the table.
"Ha, she's such a kidder." I kicked Josie under the table. "I'd love to have a little girl like her someday."
"Thank you." Sarah beamed.
I picked up my pen. "What kind of experience do you have?"
Sarah put the picture back in her wallet. "I love to bake in my spare time at home. Everyone raves about my oatmeal raisin cookies. I previously worked as a cashier for Wellington's Delicatessen up until last week. They had to downsize, and you know what that means. Last hired, first fired."
"I'm sorry." I made a note on my pad to call Larry Wellington. Mike had recently installed a floor for them, so I knew he had the number. "How long were you there?"
"About six months." Sarah twisted her knitted hat between her hands. "Before that, I did some babysitting out of my home."
"So you've never actually worked in a bakery?" Josie asked.
Sarah's face turned crimson. "No, but I'm a quick learner." She gave me a pleading look. "I really need the job."
I bit into my lower lip. I wanted to help the woman, but this wasn't sounding ideal for us. I worried about having the little girl in my bakery. Not that she wasn't welcome, but what if she got hurt somehow? The word "lawsuit" danced before my eyes in bright lights. It was too much of a risk for me to take.
Sarah's phone buzzed, and she glanced down at the screen. "Shoot. The kids are on their way home. I'm going to have to leave." She stared at us nervously. "I'm really sorry."
"It's fine," I assured her. "I think we're done here anyway."
The three of us got to our feet, and I extended my hand to Sarah. "I'll let you know our decision by tomorrow."
"Okay." Her face was optimistic. "I really enjoyed meeting both of you. I hope you'll give me a chance. I won't let you down."
The bells over the door chimed as she departed, her body hunched over to protect herself from the wind of the storm.
Josie put her hands on her hips. "I know what you're thinking, Sal, and you might as well forget it. There's no way this is going to work."
I sighed. "But I really want to help her."
Before Josie could respond, the front door was pushed open, and a young woman in her early twenties blew in along with a large gust of snow.
"Whew!" the girl said. "That wind out there is totally wild!" She glanced at me. "Let's see. You're Sally, and this must be Josie."
Josie looked her up and down. "Can we help you, Miss—?"
She laughed and held out her hand to us. "Mitzi Graber. I saw your ad in the window as I was driving by and was wondering if I could fill out an application."
"Uh, sure." Josie nodded to the chair vacated by Sarah. "Please have a seat."
Mitzi draped her coat across the back of the chair and crossed her legs. She was smartly dressed in a black woolen skirt with a white angora sweater and black boots. Her short, dark hair was cut into a bob, and a sprinkle of freckles covered a tiny upturned nose. Blue eyes that were both inquisitive and sharp roamed around my shop, observing everything at once.
She sniffed. "You're baking spice cookies. Maybe some chocolate ones, too."
My mouth opened in surprise. "You either have baking experience or a great sense of smell."
Mitzi laughed. "My parents used to own a bakery. I practically grew up there."
Josie looked intrigued. "Did you do much baking or decorating?"
Mitzi nodded. "I've done it all. I make birthday cakes when I have spare time. Mostly for kids' parties."
"Do you have any children?" Josie asked.
I kicked her under the table again. I knew this was one question we were not allowed to ask.
"Err, what I mean is," Josie said, "I have four kids and was wondering if yours might want some playmates."
I rolled my eyes at her with the sudden urge to smack my head against something hard.
Mitzi laughed. "Nope. No kids, and I'm not married. Just a boyfriend who works too hard."
I smiled. "I know something about that, too."
"I saw you and your guy picking up takeout last night at the Mexican restaurant around the corner," Mitzi said. "Isn't he a construction worker?"
Surprised, I nodded.
She grinned. "He's totally hot."
Heat warmed my face. I knew Mike was hot, too. Heck, the whole town knew it. Still, her comment made me slightly uneasy. And extremely possessive.
Mitzi's smile disappeared. "I'm sorry. I guess that wasn't an appropriate thing to say."
"It's fine, really," I lied. "So would you be okay with rotating hours to accommodate both of our schedules?"
"No problem whatsoever," Mitzi said. "I can bake, run the register, and wait on customers. A little bit of everything. And I love trying out new recipes."
"What happened to your parents' bakery?" Josie asked.
Mitzi lowered her eyes to the floor. "Business died off, so they only have an online bakery now. No actual storefront, but they're working on it."
"That's great to hear." I made another note on my pad. "Do you have any references?"
Mitzi looked at me in surprise. "Well, just my parents. I can give you their home phone number if you want to speak with them."
"Probably not necessary," Josie said.
I extended my foot under the table again. Josie's leg was probably black and blue by now.
Mitzi handed me back the application that she had been completing while we were talking, and I glanced at it. "We'll be making a decision later today. You'll hear back from us by tomorrow, either way."
She grinned as she shook our hands. "It was great to meet you both. I hope you'll consider hiring me. I think it would be a blast to work here."
Mitzi put her coat on and walked out into the swirling snow. She turned around to wave at us gaily through the window.
"I like her," Josie said. "And she's got experience. As far as I'm concerned, she's hired."
"I don't know," I said. "There's something about her that bugs me. I can't put my finger on it. Maybe it's because she's so forward."
* * *
The storm finally stopped in late afternoon, resulting in another foot of fresh fallen snow. I hated January in New York. Darkness fell so early in the evening that by 6:45 the sky was pitch-black with only a sliver of the moon showing.
The rest of the afternoon was slow after Colin's departure. We'd already figured people wouldn't be braving the storm if they didn't have to, so it was a good time for Josie and me to catch up on some baking, discuss recipes for Cookie Crusades, and reach a decision about our hired help.
I'd called Wellington's Delicatessen and been told that while Sarah had been a good and honest employee, there were a few occasions when she'd called in sick or had to leave early because of her daughter. I'd tried to phone Mitzi's parents but had only gotten voice mail. I didn't leave a message. Would they really give their own daughter a bad reference? Highly unlikely.
"Well? Should I call Mitzi and ask her if she can start on Monday?" Josie asked.
I sighed and stared out the window into the darkness. "Yeah, I guess. I feel like such a creep. I know Sarah really needs this job. More so than Mitzi, I'm betting."
"Do you want me to call Sarah, too?" Josie asked.
"No, I should do it." My phone pinged, and I glanced down at a message from Mike. Running late. Should have known I wouldn't get out on time. Can you get a ride? Meet you at your parents.
I texted back. No problem. Be careful. Love you.
I got an instant Love you more back.
Josie glanced over my shoulder at the screen and grinned. "Aw. How cute."
"Shut up." I smiled and then dialed my parents' house. My grandmother answered on the first ring. "Hey. Could Dad swing over to pick me up?"
"Yes. I will tell him," Grandma Rosa replied. "What about your young man? Will he not be coming?"
"Mike will be there," I assured her. "He got stuck at a job
and is running late."
"He works too hard. Your father is leaving now. He has a surprise he wants to show you as well." Grandma Rosa snorted into the phone. "The man is not right in the head."
My father, Domenic Muccio, was sixty-five years old and in perfect health. Ever since he'd retired from the railroad a year ago, he'd developed an obsession with funerals and death. His death, to be precise. I didn't know of anyone else who had an annual subscription to Coffins Are Us. He and my mother had been married for thirty years and, as long as I could remember, had always been very much in love. Their relationship was a bit of an oddity since my mother behaved like a teenager most days, and he acted like he was on his last leg. But, hey, since it seemed to work for them, who was I to judge?
I disconnected and turned to my best friend. "I wish there was something I could do to help Sarah."
"You can't save the world, Sal. Speaking of which, what are you going to do about that dirtbag ex-husband of yours?" Josie didn't exactly mince words when it came to Colin.
I grabbed a broom and started to sweep the floor. "I don't know. I guess I'll have to go see Colin's lawyer on Monday and find out if he's telling the truth."
"If this guy's representing Colin, he won't tell you anything," Josie pointed out. "What about Gianna? Does she know anyone who specializes in matrimonial law?"
"Probably." I blew out a long breath. Where was he getting the money for representation? Maybe he was convinced he'd win and had arranged to pay the lawyer out of his winnings. A flicker of doubt crept into my head. Was it possible that Colin could really take the shop I worked so hard for—away from me? I'd definitely have to talk with Gianna.
A horn tooted from outside. We went to the window, but it was too dark to see anything. At that moment, my father bustled in, his round face bright red from the cold. He was dressed all in black—thermal jacket, slacks, and gloves. His balding head was topped off by a layer of snowflakes.
"Is it snowing again?" Josie groaned.
"Only some flurries. No big deal." He pointed at the display case. "I need a fortune cookie, Sal. It's important to know what kind of day I'm going to have tomorrow."
Josie put her coat on. "Domenic, what's the big fascination with those things?"
My father stared at her in amazement. "What's not to be fascinated about? There's a lot of truth in those little messages, let me tell you."
I handed him two fortune cookies, but he shook his head and handed one back to me. "No, no. You have to open one, too, my sweet girl."
Not again. I groaned. "Dad, I'm really not in the mood right now."
He gave me a wistful, almost pleading expression. My father knew well how to guilt me into things I didn't want to do.
I gave in. "Oh, all right."
Dad glanced at my best friend. "How about you, Josie?"
She gave a slight shake of her head. "Um, no, thanks. I'll enjoy hearing about yours."
We waited until my father cracked his cookie open and watched his lips move silently as he read the message. "Savor your new adventure while it lasts."
I drew my eyebrows together. I really hoped this was not a veiled reference to a coffin. "Guess that one missed the mark, Dad."
"No way. It makes perfect sense. Step out onto the front porch and tell me what you see," my father instructed.
We followed him out into the darkened night and stood on my lighted porch. He pointed to the vehicle parked at the side of the curb.
"Did you get a new car?" I squinted for a closer look and then thought my eyes might fall out of my head.
Josie let out a little squeak resembling a mouse.
My father was driving a shiny black hearse.
"Dear Lord!" Josie exploded. "Where did you get that thing from?"
My father grinned with pride. "It's part of my new job. I'm now employed as a part-time driver for Phibbins Mortuary. They said I could bring it home tonight since I have an assignment early tomorrow morning. Hurry up, Sal. Wait till you see how smooth this baby rides. Josie, do you need a lift, too?"
"No thanks. I'm good." Josie whispered in my ear, "I'm so good, but it looks like you just ran out of luck."
I slumped against the front door. "I can't believe I have to ride in that thing."
"Better check that fortune cookie," Josie teased. "It probably says, 'Get ready for the wildest journey of your lifetime.'"
"Hurry up, Sal!" My father got behind the wheel and started to honk the horn.
Wincing, I held up a finger, and he nodded with impatience. Josie and I went back into the shop and switched the lights off.
"I'll lock the back door since I'm parked in the alley." Josie glanced at me. "Still feel like going out tonight?"
"Of course. I wouldn't dream of not going out—we're celebrating my best friend's birthday! Let's make it for ten since Mike's running late."
Josie hesitated. "But Colin—"
I shook my head. "I'm not going to let Colin ruin my life anymore. He tried that once, and I'll be damned if he gets another chance."
Josie gave me a hug. "That's my girl. I'll see you guys in a couple of hours." She winked. "Drive safely."
I went to the front door and changed the sign over to Closed. I waited until she had slammed the back door then locked and shut the front door behind me. I stared down at the fortune cookie still in my hand. With a bit of trepidation, I removed the strip of paper then held it up against the porch light to see.
It never pays to kick a skunk.
I looked at the message again and immediately burst into laughter. Well, there was nothing to fear from this message. As I had suspected all along, I'd been fretting over these sayings for no reason. I put the strip of paper in my pocket and got into the passenger side of the hearse. I scolded myself for even entertaining the notion that these fortunes might actually mean something. The whole idea was just so ridiculous.
CHAPTER THREE
I glanced at my watch—after 9:00 and still no Mike. My family was gathered around the cherrywood dining room table. My father sat at the head, the obituary section of today's paper spread out in front of him and a wine glass to his left. This was his daily dinnertime routine. My mother stood behind him, concentrating on giving him a neck massage.
Gianna sat across from me. She'd already polished off three glasses of wine and hummed away to herself under her breath. Occasionally, she'd stop for a beat to rest her head down on the table.
Gianna had everything going for her. She was intelligent and beautiful. People always said we resembled twins. We both had large brown eyes the color of milk chocolate, but her hair was a shade lighter than mine, a rich chestnut color that flowed around her shoulders in perfect waves. I, on the other hand, spent a small fortune on defrizzing products that never seemed to help.
My grandmother watched Gianna in disgust. "I cannot wait until this test is over with. Your sister is crashed."
"I think you mean smashed," I corrected, glancing at the clock on the wall.
"Yes, that is what I said." She patted my hand. "He will be here. Do not worry. He is a good boy, and he loves you."
My father snorted. "Sal, when's he going to make an honest woman out of you?"
"Domenic!" My mother gave him a light smack on the top of his head. At age fifty-two, Maria Muccio looked better than me most days. She had a perfect, size-four figure and an angelic face that consisted of soft brown eyes, a tiny nose, and teeth she whitened religiously. Her shapely legs modeled a black, sleeveless mini dress that was paired with four-inch platform heels. Mom had had a face lift last year and had recently been talking about entering the local Hotties Over Fifty beauty pageant. Another reason Gianna was consuming alcohol at a rapid rate tonight.
"All I ever wanted was a normal mother," Gianna had confided to me recently. "You know, one who went to PTA meetings, baked cookies for my class—stuff like that." She'd cocked her head to one side. "You bake cookies. You'll make a really good mother."
I was concerned my sister mig
ht crack up before her actual exam. Perhaps Mike was right. Maybe I should move in with him temporarily and let Gianna stay at my place for at least a few days. She needed a quiet, stress-free environment. Heck, right now the zoo would be a better choice than my parents' home.
"Well?" my father asked again.
Before I could respond, the doorbell rang, and I heard Mike's voice. "Hello?"
"We're all in the dining room, dear," my mother called.
I pushed my chair back. Literally saved by the bell. I crossed the hallway and walked through the living room into the foyer where Mike was hanging up his jacket.
His mouth was cold and rough as he kissed me. "Sorry I'm late."
"It's okay." I studied his face. He looked tired, and I knew first hand that he hadn't had much sleep last night. "How's the kitchen coming along?"
"Don't even ask," he said grimly. "This woman is a friggin' nightmare to work for." He drew my hand to his lips. "I just want to forget about her and this crappy business for a while. Right now, all I care about is spending tonight and all day tomorrow with my girl."
I thought of the episode with Colin earlier. Ten years of my life wasted on the wrong man when they should have been spent with this one. A tear leaked out of my eye before I could stop it.
He frowned and brushed his thumb lightly across my cheek. "Hey. What's wrong?"
I shook my head. "It's nothing. We can talk about it later. Come on. Everyone's waiting."
"Sal—"
"You heard her." Grandma Rosa appeared behind me. She observed Mike closely and then shook her head. "You look like you need a good meal. My Sally is a wonderful girl, but she does not know how to cook that well. Only dessert. And you cannot live on dessert."
I wasn't so sure about that. I'd tried dessert once for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and really had no complaints.
"Now you go in there and rough your face good," Grandma Rosa ordered.
I bit into my lower lip to keep from laughing. "It's stuff your face, Grandma."
"Whatever." Grandma Rosa nodded at Mike. "You go. I would like to talk to Sally alone for a minute."
Mike gave her a kiss on the cheek, and she patted his in return. When he had left the room, she turned to me with a pleased look upon her face. "It makes my heart sing to see you two together as it always should have been. He loves you so much."
Baked to Death (Cookies & Chance Mysteries Book 2) Page 3
