• • •
Mel had to go to the bakery no matter how much she wanted to stay home and work her way through a pot of coffee and Elise’s book. When she arrived, she found Angie already in the kitchen with Oz. They were standing by the worktable, looking at several cupcakes. Angie had her arm around Oz’s waist, and she was leaning against him.
“Everything okay?” Mel asked.
“It’s perfect,” Angie sobbed. “Look!”
Mel approached the table and felt her eyes go wide. On the table was a small tier of cupcakes done in Angie’s wedding colors of aqua and pewter. Each cupcake was an explosion of delicate white blooms with aqua leaves tucked in and small pewter-colored accents. They were intricate and lovely and Mel marveled at the detail Oz had wrought in the fondant and the frosting.
“Oz, these are by far your finest work,” she said. She grinned at him and saw a flush color his cheeks.
“They’re only practice,” he said. He waved his hand as if he didn’t think much of them. “I just wanted Angie’s approval before I start working on the final product.”
“You have it,” Angie said. She let go of him and clutched her hands in front of her. “Oz, it just means the world to me that you’re making my cupcake tower.”
“Don’t mention it,” he said. He looked as if he really meant that.
Peanut, who had strolled in beside Mel, was clearly desperate for attention. She sat on her haunches and barked at Oz.
He glanced down at the dog as if eager to have the attention off of him. “And who do we have here?”
“Her name is Peanut and I was wondering if she could hang out in your place for the day since she and Captain Jack could use a little time apart,” Mel said.
“You and Joe got a dog?” Oz asked.
“Sort of,” Mel said. “She belongs to Elise Penworthy, so we’re fostering her until Elise gets out of the hospital and can care for her again.”
“That’s cool,” Oz said. “I’ll take her up and get her settled.”
Mel handed him a bag of dog stuff. “Have I offered you a raise lately?”
“No,” he said. “And I’m definitely due.” He jerked a thumb at the front of the bakery and said, “Go look and see what I had to put up with today. I’ll bet you double my salary.”
Mel gave him an alarmed look and headed towards the swinging door that led into the bakery. Angie fell in behind her and together they eased the door open and peered out front.
They scanned the bakery, looking for what might have upset Oz. Mel glanced at the counter, where Marty was supposed to be working. There was no Marty just some guy with jet-black hair and Clark Kent glasses.
Mel narrowed her eyes. The Clark Kent wannabe had bushy gray eyebrows.
“Marty,” she said. “What are you doing?”
“Aw, man, how’d you know it was me?” he asked.
“The stooped shoulders, droopy pants, and gray chin stubble gave it away,” Angie said.
Marty reached up and pulled off his wig and glasses. “I don’t understand. This disguise always worked for Superman.”
“You are not Superman,” Mel said.
“Yeah, you’re more like Heartburn Man or High-Fiber Diet Man,” Angie said.
Marty lowered a bushy eyebrow at her. “Now, was that nice?”
“No,” Angie said. She hung her head. “I’m sorry. I just don’t see why you feel the need to be in disguise. Tell those thugs your daughters hired to go to h—”
“Are they still following you?” Mel asked. “How does Olivia feel about that?”
“I don’t know. She threw me out,” he said.
“What?” Mel asked. “But I thought . . .” She didn’t know what she thought, so she stopped talking.
She didn’t want to make Marty feel worse by rejoicing in his breakup. Still, Mel had always hoped he’d find someone a little more stable than Olivia. Then again, without Olivia to intimidate his daughters, they might pack Marty up and drag him back to the Midwest with them. Mel hated that. Marty, like Oz, was family.
“It’s okay,” Marty said. “I’m bunking with Oz.”
Mel and Angie exchanged a look. Oz hadn’t mentioned Marty moving in with him, but then maybe he had enough on his plate being in charge of the wedding cupcakes and all.
The front doors opened and a mom with two kids came in. Marty went to wait on them while Mel and Angie backed up until they were in the kitchen once again. Angie’s phone chimed and she took it out of her apron pocket. She glanced at the display and frowned. “Wedding stuff. I have to take this,” she said.
Mel nodded. She glanced down at her handbag and noticed Elise’s book sticking out of the top of it. Maybe she could do a little reading before diving into the baking for the day.
She entered her office and closed the door. She put her cell phone on her desk and then put her purse away and sat in her chair with her feet up on the desk. Elise’s writing was a bit overdone, but Mel could overlook the overblown turn of phrase for the sheer circus-like atmosphere of the neighborhood of the Palms. It was like an old black-and-white forties movie where the heroine in a peignoir threw a martini shaker at the back of the man who was betraying her with the neighbor.
Mel devoured the juicy novelized version of Elise’s life, learning among other sordid details that Mallory Cavendish, aka the Child Bride, had apparently been the new wife of the pervy elderly neighbor Elise called the “Fossil.” When Fossil died, Hair Plugs rushed in to console the young widow, and the next thing Ellen knew, she was kicked to the curb for a younger model who wanted to have children, something that Hair Plugs decided at the age of fifty-five that he desperately needed.
Engrossed in the book, Mel didn’t hear her phone chiming until there was a pause and then it started again. She wrenched her gaze from the book and looked
