* * *
The rest of the afternoon and evening flew by. She had run outside for a moment to watch Caleb drive his uncle’s Cadillac in the parade; afterward, he’d gone back to the restaurant to help out. The bakery had stayed packed, and the contents of the display case had swiftly sold out. By seven o’clock, Bree was texting her pirate to swing by and pick her up. She was just tidying up the last of it when Caleb came in through the front door. “It’s quite the party out there.”
“Let’s join them,” she said, thinking this was already the best Halloween yet, and the night was still young. And when the dancing and singing were over, she got to go home with a pirate. No complaints this year.
“Any of those cookies left?” he asked, as he flipped the sign and locked the door.
He didn’t have to explain which ones he was talking about. In fact, all of the remaining cookies were still on their tray in the secret drawer. Bree had only given out the one, and she was okay with that. But she wasn’t thinking Caleb needed any more nudges. “I’ve got a different recipe I want you to try,” she said, walking right up to him.
“Oh?” he said, immediately interested.
“Flavored lipstick,” she said, sliding her hand suggestively along his sword and nipping at his ear.
The cookies were forgotten.
They ended up missing the dancing and the singing. And it was, in fact, the best All Hallows’ Eve ever. She couldn’t wait to find out how they’d top it next year. No magic required. Har har har.
Anginetti (Italian Lemon Cookies)
COOKIES
1 cup butter (2 sticks), softened to room temperature
½ cup confectioners’ (powdered) sugar
¼ cup white granulated sugar
1½ tablespoons lemon zest
3 to 4 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
2½ cups flour
½ teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon salt
Preheat oven 375 degrees Fahrenheit.
Cream together the butter and confectioners’ sugar until smooth.
Stir the white granulated sugar together with the lemon zest and lemon juice.
Add sugar/zest mixture to the creamed butter/confectioners’ sugar and use hand or stand mixer to blend until smooth.
In small bowl, whisk flour, baking powder, and salt.
Gradually add the flour mixture to the butter mixture, blending till smooth after each addition.
Refrigerate dough for a minimum of one hour or until firm. (Overnight is okay.)
Take tablespoon-size scoops of dough and roll into balls.
Line two cookie sheets with parchment paper.
Place cookie balls approximately two inches apart on the lined cookie sheet.
Bake 10 to 12 minutes. Cookie bottoms should be lightly brown.
Let cool completely on racks. Makes approximately four dozen cookies.
ICING
3 tablespoons whole milk (2% okay)
2½ teaspoons lemon extract
1 box confectioners’ sugar
Red and green nonpareils
Add milk and lemon extract to sugar and blend until smooth.
When cookies are completely cool, use metal spatula to frost the cookies.
Add a sprinkle of nonpareils on top of the frosting.
Love Spells Disaster
ALLYSON CHARLES
Chapter 1
Cassandra Hie tugged at the purple jersey knit, which in theory covered her breasts, praying the fabric would hold out until it had served its purpose. She sucked in a breath, pulling her stomach in tight, but the dress didn’t magically grow into full coverage. Shoulders sagging, she exhaled like a stuck balloon. The bodice of the dress slid down another inch.
Casually, or as casually as a woman standing in line at a bakery wearing a skimpy cocktail dress could, she crossed her arm over her chest, gripping her opposite shoulder. She still felt exposed. Everyone else in Bellaluna’s Bakeshop wore jeans, woolen skirts, knee-high boots. Solid fall fashion choices for the denizens of Moonbright, Maine. She was the only idiot making a pastry run in stilettos.
She sighed. She was going to kill Franca.
“I know, right?” the man in front of her said. “I just want to sink my teeth into one of them so badly.”
Cassie pressed her forearm tighter against her breasts and leaned backward. “Excuse me?” So, she might have let Franca talk her into this provocative getup and her girls were on display. That was still no excuse for such—
“I think I want a cannoli today.” He pointed at the display case. “But the caramel ricotta cheesecake smells incredible. I can never decide.”
Cassie’s cheeks heated. “Oh. Right. The food.” She tugged at her bodice, but the reality was it didn’t matter. At Bellaluna’s, she could have been standing in line naked and everyone’s attention would still be on the pastries. They were just that good. The feeling that every eye was trained on her in her borrowed dress and ridiculous high heels was only in her mind.
The cash register dinged, and the man in front of her stepped up to the old-fashioned glass display.
The older woman behind the register gave him a smile as sweet and warm as a freshly baked batch of cinnamon rolls. “Ralphie! Back for more?”
“You know I can’t get enough, Sofia.” He dropped to a squat to peer at all the goodies in the case.
Sofia pulled a tray of delectable-looking cream puffs from behind the counter. “I know what you’ll like. How about a nice profiterole? It’s sure to bring a little bit of joy to your day.”
Ralphie popped up and rolled onto his toes. “Perfect. I’ll take four.”
He moved aside to pay, and Cassie stepped forward, examining her options. Her mouth watered. She wanted one of everything, but this mission wasn’t about her stomach. It was what would appeal to Samuel the most.
Sofia handed Ralphie his change and turned to Cassie. The woman had to be pushing seventy, but only the faintest of lines crinkled the edges of her pretty brown eyes. Her figure was as trim as an athlete’s, and her hair a rich sable. Sugar must truly be a great preservative.
The older woman brushed her hands down her apron. “And what can I get for you, cara?”
Cass chewed on her bottom lip. “Well, my friend reminded me of that saying that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” And with boobs. She tugged at the bodice again. Really, why did she listen to Franca? “What do you think, are cannolis the most tempting of treats?”
“Our cannoli are sure to tempt anyone.” Sofia tilted her head. “Have I seen you in here before with the lucky man? He’s about six-two, with dark hair?”
“No, I haven’t been here with him.” Had never gone anywhere with him, actually. Samuel was very strict about fraternizing with his employees. A quality Cassie could admire. She never had to worry about working late alone with him, never had any apprehension about an inappropriate touch in the snug copy room. He was the perfect gentleman. “And the man in question has blond hair.”
“But I thought . . .” Sofia stared into the corner of her busy bakery, her eyes clouding.
“I’ve been here before,” Cassie said with a smile. “Many times.” She tugged at the hem of her dress. Too many times. When she’d first moved to Moonbright nine months ago, she probably would have fit into Franca’s clothing. “You didn’t imagine me.”
“No, of course, I’ve noticed you before. But—” Sophia snapped her mouth shut. Smoothing her hands down her apron, she gave a small shake of her head. “No matter. So, tell me about this fellow of yours. How do you know he’s the one?”
Cassie looked at the line of people behind her. “I’m sure anything will be fine. Everything here is delicious.”
“Nonsense.” Sophia waved a finger to a girl assembling pink boxes in the back corner, and pointed at the other customers. The girl skipped to the counter and helped the next woman in line. Sophia turned back to Cassie. “Now, how am I supposed to give you the perfect treat if I don�
��t know anything about this man?”
Cassie pursed her lips. The woman really took the idea of food being the way to a man’s heart seriously. Maybe she was a believer in food chemistry, that different ingredients would have different chemical effects on people.
The idea was a little off the wall, but shouldn’t surprise Cassie. Ever since moving to this town, she’d met nothing but interesting people. Take her coworker Franca, for example. Even though she was a staunch Roman Catholic, the woman had more spells and tonics that she wanted Cassie to try than a Wiccan. Her advice to dress sexy and seduce Samuel with sweets was positively tame compared with some of her other suggestions.
Cassie mentally shrugged. She’d moved to Moonbright because of its quirky charm. She might as well roll with it. “Well, first of all, he’s brilliant. An absolute genius with numbers. He’s kind, handsome, and very stable.”
Sophia arched one dark-lined eyebrow. “Stable?”
Cassie flushed. Okay, that wasn’t the most romantic of qualities, but it was an important one. After the roller-coaster ride of deadbeats she’d experienced in her former life, stable sounded heavenly. “I’ve been waiting for him to notice me for a long time,” she said quietly. “I’m ready for real love.”
Sofia studied her for a moment, then glanced into the corner again, at an empty table by the window. She tapped her finger against her pink lips before nodding, once. “Yes, I believe you are.” Turning, she pulled a tray of succulent-looking cookies out from behind the counter. The edge of each cookie was lightly browned, and colorful sprinkles dotted the icing dolloped on top. Sophia placed two on a doily in a small box and tied it up with string. “Here you are, cara. A gift. For true love.”
Cassie took the box with one hand and slid her purse off her opposite shoulder. “No, I couldn’t accept them for free. Not after all the time you’ve spent talking with me. How much?”
Sofia waved her wallet away. “Nonsense. Just promise me that if love does find you, you’ll accept it, in any of its forms.”
Cassie tilted her head. “O-kaay. Of course.” She slid her purse back on her shoulder. “Well . . . thanks. I appreciate it.”
Sofia gave her a farewell waggle of her fingers and turned to the next customer.
Clutching the box to her stomach, Cassie hurried out the door and across the street. Samuel Bunker Insurance was only five doors down, but that was five doors too many in four-inch heels. By the time she pushed through the entrance to the insurance agency, the balls of her feet were aching and the muscles around her ankles had locked in place.
The bell above the door rang with her entrance, and Franca looked up from her desk. She and Franca shared the open front reception area, and Samuel’s office, the copy room, and the restroom were crowded into the back.
Franca lifted her head and sniffed. “Mmm, I can smell the lard and sugar from here. What did you get?”
Cassie hobbled to her desk and set her purse and the box down. “Some Italian cookies.” Cocking a hip against the edge of the desk, she toed off one pump and flexed her foot. “I don’t know about this getup, Franca. I don’t think it’s work appropriate, and you know how Samuel likes everything professional.”
Franca scowled. “I’ve worn that dress to work lots of times. What are you saying?”
Cassie pointed to her boobs. “Yes, well, it doesn’t look the same on me as it does on you, does it?” Franca was two inches shorter than Cassie’s five-seven, and far smaller across the bust. “I want Samuel to notice me as a woman, but not necessarily as this kind of woman.”
Franca stood and circled her desk. She stood in front of Cassie and ran her hands up and down Cassie’s arms. “I know this is a big change for you. You’re used to being as fully covered as a nun in her habit, but trust me. You look beautiful. And not slutty at all.” She chewed the left side of her lower lip into her mouth. “Maybe the tiniest bit slutty, but in a good way.”
Cassie’s jaw dropped. “I don’t dress like a nun. I just think there’s a time and a place for everything.” Dress sexy for dates, conservative for work, and scary for Halloween. Easy rules to live by.
“Franca?” Samuel ambled into the reception area, his head down, focused on a sheaf of papers in his hand. “Did you get the estimate from headquarters?”
Cassie shoved her foot back in her shoe and tugged at her bodice.
Franca slapped her hands away. “Not yet, boss. I’ll let you know when it comes in.”
“Okay.” He looked up and paused when he saw Cassie. “Oh—hi, Cassie. I didn’t know you were in yet today. How did the dentist appointment go?”
“Fine.” The back of her neck burned. The dentist appointment had been her first lie to Samuel, but what else was she to say? She couldn’t very well tell him she was going to be late to work because she needed time to primp that morning in order to seduce him.
Franca elbowed her in the ribs as she walked past, circling back behind her desk.
Right. She had the cookies. She had the boobs. Time to start that seduction. Cassie pushed her shoulders back and prayed she wouldn’t spill out of the dress. Well, here went nothing. “Samuel, I stopped at Bellaluna’s Bakeshop on my way back.” She untied the string and opened the box. Sauntering toward her boss with as much hip action as she dared, she held the box up, right in front of her cleavage. “Would you like to nibble on something?”
His gaze flicked straight to the pastries in the box, then back to her face, bypassing all her interesting bits. “No, thanks. I started a new keto diet yesterday.” He patted his flat stomach. “Have to get in shape for that half-marathon next month.” He turned and strolled back to his office, his face again buried in his paperwork.
Cassie blinked, fighting the tears behind her eyelids. She tossed the box of cookies back on her desk. “Well, now we know. Even showcasing all my assets, Samuel has zero interest.”
Franca let out a low whistle. “That boy has the control of a monk. And not the fun kind that makes beer and likes to drink. Why do you want him again?”
Cassie stomped around her desk and slumped into her chair. “You know why.” They had discussed her feelings enough that even Cassie had started getting tired of hearing her own voice. “And just because he isn’t interested in me isn’t a character flaw on his part. It’s just . . .” She gripped the edge of her desk and turned her face away. She wouldn’t cry at work. She. Would. Not.
“Hey,” Franca said, her voice soft. “Of course, it’s not a flaw. He’s a good person; you’re a good person. I’m just wondering, even if you got what you wanted and turned that boy’s head, would it be worth it? I’m thinking there wouldn’t be much heat brewing in that cauldron, if you know what I mean.”
“You don’t know that.” Cassie dug her hand into the bakery box and pulled out a cookie. The beautiful, sprinkle-dusted concoction that wasn’t allowed in Samuel’s disciplined, hard-bodied lifestyle. She shoved it into her mouth whole. “Besides, heat isn’t everything,” she mumbled around her mouthful.
Her past relationships had heat, at least in the beginning. She’d dated men who had a magnetic pull but couldn’t offer anything of substance. And her mother . . . Well, she didn’t even want to go there. It had taken Cassie too long to realize that relationships weren’t about using her heart, or parts farther south. They required the use of her head. Companionship with a man she could respect. Security. Those were the things that mattered.
Franca wrinkled her nose and pushed her glasses back up when they began to slip. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you around the cookie.”
“I said,” she began, and swallowed her mouthful. Her throat clogged, and Cassie coughed. Or tried to. No air escaped out of her windpipe.
Cassie blinked. And tried coughing again.
Franca held up a hand. “You said . . .”
Adrenaline flooded Cassie’s veins. She pounded her desk with one hand and pointed at her throat with the other. White dots flickered in her vision.
“Oh, c
rap!” Franca bolted around her desk, her hip slamming into the corner. She ran behind Cassie’s chair, yanking Cassie to her feet.
Cassie’s fingernails clawed across the desk as Franca wrapped her arms around her middle.
Her friend heaved her backward, but the cookie remained lodged. Franca squeezed her again, her hands plumping up Cassie’s breasts like a human push-up bra.
Cassie slapped at her hands, shoving them down lower. Dear Lord, she was going to die. Die, because she’d talked with her mouth full and her friend didn’t know how to do the Heimlich. Her vision started to narrow, collapsing in on itself like a house of cards. Ears ringing, Cassie felt a tear roll down her cheek.
Franca released her, probably realizing the futility of her actions. This was the end of the road for her. She was going to die in a skimpy dress and hooker heels. She hoped Franca would make sure all her parts were decently covered before anyone saw her body.
Her knees gave out just as a strong set of arms wrapped around her waist, holding her upright. A fist jerked against her abdomen. Once.
Her chin dropped to her chest, her lungs screaming.
Twice.
Her hands went numb, her mind going dark.
One last jerk, and a wet glob of mashed-up cookie flew from her mouth, splattering on the carpet.
Cassie wheezed, sucking in a fresh draught of sweet, blessed air. Her greedy lungs sucked in more than they could hold and she coughed, uncontrollably. Planting her palms on the desk, she waited for her body to calm.
“Thanks,” she croaked. She straightened, her legs feeling like half-set jelly. “I really owe you one, Franca.”
“It wasn’t me, hon.” Admiration dripped from Franca’s voice, and Cassie wobbled around.
The Bakeshop at Pumpkin and Spice Page 13
