by Devon, Cat
“No way. Hand it over.”
“Why?”
“There’s still some frosting in there.” She eagerly grabbed the bowl from Daniella. “Waste not, want not.”
“This is why you could never work here. You’d eat everything.”
Suz swiped the edge of the bowl with her index finger. “You said you did find two people to work with you.”
Daniella nodded, relieved that she’d distracted Suz from asking her more about Nick. “Lois and Xandra.”
“Which one did the awesome job on the website and social network stuff?”
“That’s Xandra. She worked in cupcake shops in Vail and Lake Tahoe.”
“Then what is she doing in this neighborhood? I know you grew up here, but after you’ve seen Vail and Lake Tahoe I can’t imagine coming back to Chicago.”
“Why not?” Daniella said.
“It’s so flat, for one thing.”
“Yeah, Xandra does say that. But she didn’t come here for the scenery. She had to come back for economic reasons. She’s living at home with her parents.”
“Times are tough,” Suz said.
“I know. And to belatedly answer your question, I am nervous about the grand opening for that reason. But cupcakes aren’t expensive and they are comfort food. In tough times, people need comfort. My brother placed a standing order for several dozen for every funeral package he has scheduled. I made sure they are for the more somber cupcakes.”
“Somber cupcakes?” Suz said. “Is there such a thing?”
“I for sure don’t want to send over the funfetti-decorated ones. So I’m going with the more traditional vanilla or chocolate.”
“See, stuff like that would never occur to me,” Suz said.
“I’m sure you wouldn’t send over happy-face cupcakes to a funeral. Unless they were a special order. Some funerals are stranger than others. I’ll never forget one widow requesting the song ‘Up, Up and Away’ by the 5th Dimension be played over and over again.”
“Did they request smiley-faced cupcakes, too?”
“No.”
Suz took the empty bowl to the sink and started cleaning it herself. “Speaking of cupcakes, I’m surprised you use a handheld mixer instead of one of those stand models.”
“The bowls are too small in the stand models.”
“These are mega-sized.”
Daniella nodded. “I call them ‘arms-around size’ because if I make a circle with my arms and have my fingertips touch, it matches the size of the stainless mixing bowls for the batter. It’s true that I’ll need a new handheld mixer every couple of months, but for now it’s worth it.”
“These frosting bowls are a little smaller but not much.”
Daniella cleaned her sticky fingers in the separate hand sink. “Tell me again that there’s no reason for panic.”
“There’s no reason for panic,” Suz obediently said before adding a hug. “Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”
But Daniella did panic when strange noises woke her in the middle of the night. They were coming from the street below. She got out of bed and tiptoed to the living room. Pushing aside the curtain covering the window, she snuck a peek outside. The streetlight on the corner illuminated two people throwing something at her front window.
Chapter Seven
Nick was not amused. “Egging? Come on,” he said in disgust. “That’s pitiful. What has the world come to that vampires are egging a cupcake shop? That kind of juvenile behavior is for wimps, not vamps.”
“They were trying to get Daniella to come outside,” Neville said.
“She didn’t fall for that, did she?”
“No. She called the police, but egging is a minor issue on a busy Chicago police schedule.”
“Was it the same group of vamps that came before?” Nick asked.
Neville shook his head. “No, this is a different bunch.”
“Great. So now we’ve got two groups of outsiders trying to get Daniella. A trio of gangsta vamps and a pair of vampire wimps.”
“I heard that Tanya wasn’t real pleased with Daniella’s visit to her tanning salon. Tanya thinks her human clients will get fat on the cupcakes and not want to wear swimsuits or get tanned.”
“That sounds like a lame excuse to me,” Nick said.
Neville shrugged. “You know Tanya. She likes being the only female business owner in Vamptown.”
“She’s still the only female vampire business owner in Vamptown.”
“You don’t think she has anything to do with these incidents, do you?”
“I’ll check it out,” Nick said.
He left the Vamp Cave and headed for Tanya’s Tanning Salon. She was clearly pleased to see him. “Nick!” She came closer to kiss his cheeks in the European fashion, even though she’d never stepped foot on the Continent. She then planted her mouth directly on his.
She was trying to stake a claim.
Nick didn’t like anything to do with stakes. It was a vamp thing.
Firmly setting her aside, he gave her a hard stare. He wasn’t going to be distracted by sex. “Why the warm welcome?”
“Why not?” Her smile was sultry. “I’m always glad to see you, Nick. You know that.”
“You seem unusually pleased today. Not suffering from a guilty conscience, are you?”
“I’d have to have a conscience in the first place and I don’t.”
Nick could tell the salon was empty at the moment. He sensed no human or vampire presence. So he was direct.
“Egging, Tanya? Really? Come on,” he mocked.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about those lame minions you had egg the cupcake shop last night.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Jealousy.”
“Oh, please.” Tanya drew herself to her full height, which was even higher thanks to the stiletto sandals she wore. “Why would I be jealous of her?”
“Then why egg her place?”
“She doesn’t belong here. You said so yourself.”
“I changed my mind,” Nick said.
“You mean she changed your mind. She may be immune to vamp mind compulsion, but are you immune to her?”
“She isn’t a vampire,” he said. “She can’t do mind compulsion.”
“Can’t she? Are you sure about that?” Tanya said.
“Yes, I am sure. And I want you to promise you won’t pull another stupid stunt like this.”
“I swear. Cross my heart and hope to die. Oh wait. That doesn’t work for us since we don’t die.”
“You can die. Fire. Decapitation. Ring a bell?” he said.
“Are you threatening me?”
“I’m just reminding you of the facts. Daniella is no threat to you. But you causing an incident that required the police to be called in and that heightened the attention of the other vamp communities creates a threat for all of us.”
“Why is she so special?”
“She’s not.”
“Come on,” Tanya said. “She’s the only human I know who is immune to mind compulsion.”
“You never said how you knew she’s immune?”
“I tried it on her myself when I told her that her cupcakes were poison,” Tanya readily admitted. “You saw her response.”
“She is protective about her cupcakes,” he said.
“Just be sure you keep your hands off her cupcakes.”
Nick just stared at Tanya. It was enough to make her take several steps back. “You’ve been warned.” He left without saying another word.
* * *
There was no place like home. Especially when home was a funeral home.
Daniella gently rearranged the fresh floral arrangement on the marble table in the front foyer of the Evergreen Funeral Home. Along with the comfort of cupcakes, her mom had also been proud of the lovely flower arrangements that the neighborhood florist Saul Alexander did for them. But her mom had always stopped to do a twea
k or two each time she passed the vase on this table. So Daniella did the same, as a sort of nod to her mom.
Two smaller tables stood on either side of the front entrance with a Boston fern on each of them. The lower part of the walls was finished in a dark wood while above was soothing neutral wallpaper in a muted leaf design. Daniella had helped her father pick it out a few years ago. Otherwise, not a lot had changed.
The funeral director’s office was straight ahead, and that’s where she found her brother Gordon. He looked a lot like their dad. The two men shared the same lanky build as well as similar blue eyes and dark brown hair.
Gordon looked up from the laptop computer on the desk. “Hey, sis, I hear you had an egg incident last night.”
“Hey, yourself.” She sat in one of the brown leather wing chairs facing her brother. Sitting there reminded her of the many times when, as a little girl, she’d brought a specially decorated cupcake to her dad. He’d always ignored the lopsided frosting and the overabundance of sprinkles and would praise her for creating such a beautiful masterpiece. “Dad seems to be having a great time on the cruise judging by his emails.”
“He’ll be back soon. Do you know who egged your place?”
“The last time I remember getting egged was when Rodney Livermore did it to the funeral home’s front windows back when we were in high school. Hey, you don’t think it was Rodney again, do you?” she said, sort of kidding and sort of not.
“No. He moved to Sacramento and opened a Subway franchise there.”
“What about your gambling friends? Is this something they would do?” she asked,
Gordon shook his head. “They’re more into using baseball bats to break legs and kneecaps. Not that they’d do that to me,” he hurriedly added.
His words concerned her. “Are you in debt again?”
“No.” His voice turned totally defensive as it always did when this subject came up.
“Are you going to any Gamblers Anonymous meetings?”
“I don’t have a problem,” Gordon said. “Besides, I’m not the one who got egged. You were. Or your shop’s windows were.”
“I spent two hours this morning cleaning the slime from the glass. It wasn’t time I could spare.”
Her brother was not empathetic about her plight. “No one has time to spare these days. I’ve got two viewings scheduled for tonight so I really can’t chat.”
“Have you been talking to Nick St. George about me?” she asked.
Gordon frowned at her abrupt change of subject. “No.”
“Then why did he ask me if I had ESP?”
“How should I know?” her brother said. “I’m not the one with ESP. Go read his mind.” He shooed her out of the office and closed the door on her.
Yes, there was no place like home. But she had a new home now and she had to get back to preparing for one of the biggest days of her life—her grand opening.
* * *
An hour later, Daniella was in heaven. Cupcake baking heaven. True, she was covered in flour and powdered sugar, but that didn’t matter. She had the place to herself. The only sound was her mixer and Muse singing “Supermassive Black Hole.” Perhaps not the first song that might come to mind for a woman who wore pearls and twinsets, but this was her inner diva side.
She danced her way from the oven back to the stainless-steel worktable with a cupcake tin filled with freshly baked cupcakes. She’d been experimenting with new autumn flavors this afternoon, like pumpkin cinnamon and apple cider spice.
The music moved on to the next song on the playlist she’d selected for today. They were all songs guaranteed to keep you awake and dancing. “Letters from the Sky” by Civil Twilight certainly qualified. She stood back to eye the spice-cake-based apple cider cupcake she was working on. It needed something more … a touch of lemon juice in the frosting maybe? She added some.
Daniella loved playing with recipes and combining different ingredients, flavors, and texture. One of her recent faves was a Baileys Irish Cream cupcake with espresso buttercream frosting dunked in chocolate sprinkles and topped with a chocolate-covered espresso bean candy.
But her favorite part was decorating the cupcakes. She frosted a batch of Halloween cupcakes to the sound of Róisín Murphy’s “Ramalama.” She used cookie cutters on the fondant she’d made to create various designs. A leaf could be turned into an evil eye when turned sideways.
The hairs suddenly rose on the back of her neck and she pivoted to find Nick standing there. It was as if he’d materialized out of nowhere. She put her hand on her pounding heart, thereby placing a powdered sugar-laden handprint on her black I LOVE NY T-shirt. Her apron didn’t cover that part of her anatomy, falling just below that point. “You scared me!”
He seemed consumed with staring at that fresh handprint on her chest.
“How did you get in?” she demanded.
“Through the back door.”
“It was locked. And the security system was set.” When he kept his gaze focused on her breasts, she added, “Hey! Eyes up here.” She used two fingers to point to his dark gray eyes and then back to her own.
“I apologize,” he said but she wasn’t sure he really meant it.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk to you about what happened last night,” he said.
“The egging? Do you know who did it?”
“I have my suspicions.”
She reached for a pad of paper. “I want names.”
“I can’t give them to you,” he said.
“Why not?” She angrily clicked the ballpoint pen in her hand. “Because you side with them against me?”
“Because I don’t have any proof,” he said. “But I did issue them a warning.”
“Big deal,” she scoffed.
“It was a big deal. I don’t issue many warnings.”
“Tell me the name of the person you suspect and I’ll issue my own warning,” she said.
“That’s not necessary. I took care of it.”
She hated to admit it, but part of her was relieved. She really didn’t need more things to add to her to-do list before the opening. But another part wanted to make sure that he knew she was perfectly capable of sticking up for herself. Especially where her cupcakes were concerned. “You don’t think I can issue warnings, too?”
“I think you look adorable covered in flour and sugar.”
She rolled her eyes. “Adorable?”
“Sexy?”
She laughed. “Okay, now that’s just a lie.”
“It is not.”
“Come on. There is no way I look sexy in these clothes. I’m not wearing any makeup. My hair is scraped back in a ponytail to get it out of the way.”
“You don’t need makeup. You look good enough to eat.”
She laughed again, despite the fact that he was actually eyeing her with an expression of hunger. “You’d have to be starving.”
“Maybe I am.”
“Then have a cupcake.”
He turned his head just as she held an apple spice one to his mouth. She ended up smearing the frosting on the corner of his mouth and his cheek. “Ooops.” She automatically wiped her finger across his lips. “Sorry about that.”
She might as well just have placed her hand in the oven. Her skin was hot. His was hotter. She wouldn’t have been surprised to see sparks flying between them, so powerful was the attraction. You’d think that would make her move away, but instead she stood there transfixed.
She lifted her gaze to his eyes and tried to decipher the look she saw there. Hunger and heat. Power and passion. Sex and secrets.
She belatedly snatched her hand away.
“What was that about?” She didn’t realize she’d said the words aloud until he answered them.
“You know the answer to that,” he said.
“I do?”
He nodded and returned her hand to his lips. “You feel it, too.”
“I do?” Right, that sounded brillia
nt. But her brain wasn’t functioning normally at the moment; really, it was miraculous that she was able to form full words at all and not just moan with sensual yearning.
“You know you do.” His voice was roughly husky as his tongue skimmed against her skin.
“But I don’t want to.”
“Are you sure about that?” he said.
Daniella shook her head. She wasn’t sure about anything aside from the powerful rush of need pulling her under. His smoky gray eyes reflected a similar need. Her lips parted as she tried to draw in enough breath to calm the hormones raging within her. His gaze instantly shifted to her mouth. A second later his mouth covered hers in a kiss that was all-consuming.
If their first kiss was exploratory, this one was raw and no-holds-barred. His tongue tangled with hers. She responded with a wild abandon she’d never experienced before. The oral skirmish was sexy and liberating.
The taste of spices blended with the taste of Nick. There were no words to describe the combination. Sweet and salty. Dangerous and addictive.
She couldn’t stop with just one kiss. She needed more. So did he.
Nick lifted her to the only clear space on the edge of the table. She hooked her legs around his thighs. The music played on with the primal beat of Muse’s “Undisclosed Desires.” The lyrics from the song were a description of his embrace.
Undoing the ties on her apron, he slid his hands beneath her T-shirt to fondle her breast. The brush of his thumb against her satin-covered nipple was enough to make her melt like butter. Yet she could feel every pulse in her body beating in a primitive rhythm that dated back to the beginning of time.
She was so hot for him in that moment that she was actually burning up. Burning … no, wait. That was the smell of her latest batch of cupcakes turning into cinders.
His spell on her was broken as she rushed to the stove to save her baked goods.
Grabbing a pot holder, she wailed, “Look what you made me do!”
“I’m looking.” But he wasn’t staring at the cupcakes. His eyes were glued on her derriere. She turned to look over her shoulder. Sure enough, she now had flour on the backside of her jeans.
She smacked the cupcake tin on a cooling rack and turned to confront him. “What was that about?” She was asking herself the same question she’d asked earlier.
