Easy Bake Coven: Book One of the Vivienne Finch Magical Mysteries (4 page)

“So
hang up and answer the door.” Kathy whispered back. “And call me later with all
the details.”

Vivienne
ended the call and slipped the phone into her purse that was perched on the end
table. She took a deep cleansing breath and then opened the door with a radiant
smile.

Joshua
Arkins
stood at the top of her front stairs and he
looked even better with the porch lamp reflecting off his chiseled features. He
was much taller than she had remembered, easily a few inches over six feet. Now
out of uniform, he was dressed in a pair of khaki pants and a dark green polo
shirt that defined the best parts of his chest in all the right ways. “I am so
very sorry about being late but we had a late booking down at the office.”

“Are
you late?” She lied like a pro and then, to seal the deal, craned her neck back
to the small wall clock in her entryway. “I lost track of time myself.”

Joshua
flashed his mega-watt smile and gave his brow a quick wipe. “That’s good to
hear. I wouldn’t have blamed you for slamming the door in my face.”

“I
would never do that.” She gestured to the living room behind her. “Would you
like to come in for a minute?”

“Thank
you.” He followed her into the living room where she sat down on her white sofa
that was draped with one of her grandmother’s hand-knitted afghans. “Can I get
you something to drink?”

“No,
thank you.” He glanced around her living room and took a seat next to her.
“This is a beautiful home.”

“It’s
rented.” She blurted out and then laughed. “Sorry, I don’t know why I just spit
that out.”

“Wish
I had found a place like this when I moved to town.”

She
could feel his body heat emanating like her steam radiator during a cold snap
in January. He was no doubt just as nervous as she had been and that was the
magic trick that allowed her to relax just a bit. “So where did you move to?”

“I
found a duplex over on Meier Lane.” He answered quickly. “But it doesn’t have a
quarter of the charm of this place. Look at that cove molding.”

She
was impressed. He wasn’t one of those men who only seemed able to memorize
sports scores and the names of
Hooters
waitresses. “The landlord told me most of these homes were built right before
the depression. They were actually owned by the railroad and rented to workers
and their families. After the railroads went bust, the homes were bought up by
newlyweds who soon outgrew them as they created the baby boomers.”

“You
like history too?” He relaxed a bit with his posture, allowing his hands to
move from his lap to the sofa cushions.

“Always
have.” She glanced at the wall clock and cleared her throat. “Well, if we’re
going to grab dinner we better get a move on.”

He
looked at the clock in surprise and lightly slapped his head. “I apologize
again.”

She
put her hand on his and there was a moment of silence between them. He was
unusually warm to the touch and she felt some sort of extra protective aura
being so close to him. No doubt it was just her subconscious not letting her
forget that he was an officer of the law. “No need.” She rose from the sofa and
he followed suit.

“So
where’s a good place to eat other than
Clara’s
Diner
?”

“Are
you fond of Chinese?” She asked as she walked over to the end table and
clutched her purse.

“Love
it.”

“Shall
we take my car or yours?” She opened the front door, letting in a breeze that
smelled faintly of wood smoke from the neighbors who had wood burning stoves to
heat their homes. Mixed with the earthy smell of fallen leaves, it was a smell
she felt defined the country-style of upstate New York.

“After
showing up late, the least I can do is save you some gas money.” He winced as
the words came out. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

She
laughed it off. “It’s fine. I’m nervous too.”

He
led her to his blue Jeep Grand Cherokee, which was spotlessly polished. “I’m so
glad to hear you say that.” He opened the passenger door for her.

“Thank
you.” She slid into the passenger seat and was pleasantly surprised that the
new car smell was still quite strong. The floor mats were clean and the door
pockets weren’t shoved full of wadded up drive-thru napkins. Joshua was light
years ahead of her other blind dates.

A
short drive later they were seated in a cozy corner booth inside the
Shanghai Sunset
restaurant. The lighting
was soft and subdued, to allow the small votive candle on the table to be the
star. The décor of wooden booths and chairs upholstered in red fabric, against
the dark cherry wall panels carved with scenes of temples and pagodas from the
Far East, was both exotic and romantic. The gentle sound of a single lute,
played softly from the ceiling speakers as they enjoyed their dinners.

As
the waiter placed her order of house special fried rice on the table, she ignored
the chopsticks and went straight for the standard utensils. “I never could
master chop sticks.” She stabbed a shrimp with her fork and popped it into her
mouth. “Mother always said my fingers were too stubby.”

Much
like Vivienne, Joshua avoided the chopsticks as they always seemed to end up
either in his lap, on the floor, or sometimes both. “This is so much better
than those greasy little take out places in the city.”

“What
city would that be?” She asked as her fork speared another shrimp off the blue
and white patterned plate.

“Take
your pick.” He winked at her.

“I’ve
never lived anywhere but Cayuga Cove.” She revealed.

“There’s
something to be said for having that kind of stability.” Joshua added as he
finished the last of the noodles with a little slurp.

“I
suppose you could look it that way.” She set her fork down across the plate and
pulled the napkin from her lap. She dabbed her lips gently and quickly ran her
tongue across her teeth to hopefully snag any wayward vegetables that might
have become lodged in-between the spaces.

“The
cities these days are getting more like war zones.” He added as he performed
the same napkin ritual.

“I
guess I should be thankful that Cayuga Cove is such a peaceful place. Why, you
hardly ever hear a siren going down the street except during the Fourth of July
parade.”

“That’s
definitely something to be thankful for.” Their waiter cleared their plates and
set a check billfold down on the table along with two fortune cookies. Joshua
snagged it quickly and reached into his back pocket for his wallet.

“Let
me leave the tip.” She offered.

He
shook his head and smiled at her. “That just wouldn’t be right.”

Her
heart fluttered again as she found herself not wanting the evening to come to
an end so soon. “You are too generous.”

He
tucked a credit card into the slot at the top of the billfold and the waiter
appeared seconds later to whisk it away. Joshua picked up a fortune cookie and
handed it to her. “But I insist you read your fortune cookie aloud.”

“That’s
fair.” She opened the cellophane wrapper and cracked the cookie into two clean
pieces. She unfolded the little slip of paper and squinted to read the tiny
writing in the dim lighting. “You have hidden talents that will pay off in
bed.” Her hands flew up to her mouth the moment she finished.

His
eyes widened in surprise. “Say what?”

She
suddenly felt like slapping her forehead in response. “It’s just a thing my
best friend Kathy and I do. We always finish fortunes with the words ‘in bed’.”
She felt her cheeks flush red. “Not that I was suggesting anything like that
tonight.” She gingerly sipped her tepid Oolong tea while mentally chiding
herself for blurting out such a suggestive thing.

“I
think that’s cute.” He opened his with a single squeeze and ended up with
several crumbled cookie bits. He fished out the fortune and held it close to
the candle on the table. “Never say never”, he paused for dramatic effect, “in
bed.”

As
if in slow motion a nervous laugh escaped, along with some of the tea in her
mouth, which created a small spit take much like the kind that had been the
staple of so many comedy movies.

Joshua
broke out into a hearty laugh and reached across the table to pull her hands
away from her mouth. “Well that’s a first.”

She
caught his hands in hers and their fingers intertwined. “This is why I don’t go
out on many dates.”

The
waiter returned with the billfold and credit card. “Is everything okay?”

Joshua
nodded to her in response. “Would you care for more tea?”

She
repressed a laugh. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“Do
come back.” The waiter smiled and left them alone with the votive candle, the
cellophane wrappers, and the tea-soaked table cloth.

One
the best things about being an early riser was experiencing the gentle quiet of
the town as she drove her little red car to work each morning. The sky
transitioned from the soft tangerine of sunrise to a vibrant periwinkle blue as
she pulled into her private parking location at the rear entrance to her
bakery. It promised another fine September afternoon, the kind that just begged
to be spent sipping cider at one of the local orchards.

As
she walked up the three concrete steps that led to her back door, she skidded
on a pile of greasy waxed papers and nearly toppled forward. “Not again.” She
moaned.

The
sanitation company, although prompt with their service, was getting terribly
lax with cleaning up the trash that spilled out of their trucks as they lifted
the nearby dumpsters to empty them. Just the other day, they had dropped an
entire bag from the pizzeria that was two doors down, which spilled a mess of
half-eaten crusts and half-finished sugary sodas all over the two parking spots
that were designated for her business. She had cleaned up the disgusting mess
on her own, not wanting to step on or over the revolting mix of trash.

Making
a mental note to call the company and politely ask that they exercise more
caution when removing waste, she fished the brass key out of her purse, tripped
the lock, and stepped into the back supply room.

There
were two days left before her grand opening and today started the first of the
big stocking days to fill the store with the non-perishable items that would
supplement her delicious baked goods.

But
before any of that could be started, the first order of business was to have a
steaming mug of English breakfast tea. She walked over to the large desk that
was a mess of invoice papers, receipts, print-outs of recipes, and several
paint color samples that she had passed on for the walls but liked enough to
perhaps try in one of the bedrooms in her home. Hidden amongst the chaos, there
was her trusty little electric kettle. As was the ritual each night, she filled
it with water so it would be ready to go the next morning.

A
few minutes later, with a mug firmly in her grip, she turned on the spotlights
above the sales floor and looked over the progress she had made since securing
the space a month ago.

Thanks
to the beauty of the exposed brick wall on one entire side, she had saved money
by only having to paint the opposite wall a pleasant shade of light yellow. It
reminded her of a bright spring day and she instantly felt her mood elevated
whenever she looked at it. She hoped her future customers would also feel
inspired like that when they stepped in through the door and searched for the perfect
item to satisfy their sweet tooth.

Along
the exposed brick wall, she had installed simple chrome wire shelves to display
the selection of various coffees and teas, some cute aprons and oven mitts, and
a smattering of cookbooks that were still packed into large boxes in the back
stockroom.

But
the majority of the floor space was filled with her three glass display cases
that would soon house decadent chocolate, vanilla, and peanut butter flavored
whoopie
pies. There were simple white trays that would display
dozens of homemade cookies and brownies and vintage glass domes that would
showcase the pies and cakes that would vary according to the season. But most
importantly, her famous lemon-raspberry layer cake with white coconut frosting
would take the prime location in the front display window. She had taken the
blue ribbon two years in a row at the county fair with it.

Whenever
a potluck dinner invite came in the mail, she knew her hosts would be
disappointed if she arrived with anything but that. “You should sell this.”
They would insist between chewing mouthfuls of her cake. It had taken plenty of
time and effort, but at last she had followed their advice and now they would
see it every time they passed by her store window.

As
fall was gearing up to full swing, she had decided to go with apple and pumpkin
themed baked goods for the start. If those were a hit, she could easily carry
them over into October and early November before switching to the winter
wonderland of Christmas baking.