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“She’s waited a hundred years,” Avery said, watching the pages flutter. “She can just cool her heels and give you a minute.”

Just then, one of the canisters on the shelf to the side of the stove pitched over and dropped right into the dish of pasta. As it fell, its top knocked off, and white powder settled over the noodles and formed a cloud above the dish.

Cam fished out the container. “Baking soda,” she said. Baking soda was bitter and definitely had no place in pesto. And there was no scraping it out of the sauce—it was all over. “Great, just what I needed. Dinner is officially ruined.”

She picked up Ada’s cookbook in anger and momentarily considered tossing it into the trash along with the destroyed meal. Her thoughts raced. She could be done with Ada, just like that. She didn’t owe that ghost anything. But as her hand hovered above the garbage can, she hesitated. Instead, she just slammed it down.

“We’re ordering Chinese,” she announced.

From her spot near the kitchen table, Izzy cleared her throat dramatically. “Um, excuse me, but can someone please tell me whatthewhat is going on here?”

For a moment, Cam wondered if the revelation that there was a possibly angry ghost haunting Birdie’s house might be enough to spook Izzy into packing her things. But their houseguest didn’t seem scared.

“It’s a spirit, isn’t it?” Izzy asked, and Cam nodded reluctantly. “I knew it! I sensed its presence here. I don’t mean to sound super-conceited, but I’m totally an intuitive person. My healer said I have a very keen third eye.”

Sure, Cam thought. If by intuitive she meant out of touch and entitled.

“Then you’ll get along with her just fine,” Cam said as she pulled a takeout menu from under a magnet on Birdie’s fridge. “Who wants dumplings?”

Cam arrived in the kitchen the following morning to find Izzy at the table, showing Birdie a collection of small, glittering stones.

“This one is quartz, which is all about communication and clarity,” she said, pointing to one. “And I texted my healer this morning—she’s soooo amazing—and she says lapis lazuli is good for contacting spirits. And so is anything blue, so I’ll use this calcite…”

“Good morning, dear,” Birdie greeted Cam. “Izzy says she can get in touch with Ada using these rocks.”

“They’re crystals,” Izzy corrected her.

“Sounds great,” Cam said, making a beeline for the coffeepot. If Izzy wanted to play ghosthunter, that was fine—at least it would keep her out of Cam’s hair while she got ready for the fete. She didn’t know if the crystals were going to work and hadn’t told Izzy the trick about cooking from Ada’s cookbook to get her to appear, and she had told Avery and Birdie not to mention it either. She didn’t want Izzy to actually get in touch with Ada. Cam had enough to deal with as it was.

“And after I have my little summoning, I thought we could work on cookbook stuff,” Izzy said. “I’ll come to the cafe in the afternoon.”

“Actually, Izzy, as I told you before, today I have to get ready for the fete, which is in three days,” Cam said. “Paige and I are going shopping in Virginia Beach, and then I have desserts to prep and about a mountain of vegetables to chop.” They had been over this before, but Izzy apparently hadn’t gotten the message—or, more likely, she had simply decided to ignore it.

“Look, why don’t you spend time today looking through these?” Cam asked, pointing to a stack of books that she had brought to Birdie’s as inspiration for Izzy’s cookbook—a few food reference books, including The Flavor Bible and The Oxford Companion to Food, along with beautiful photography books on Italy and California. “Here,” she added, handing Izzy a block of sticky notes. “Just flag anything that strikes you—an ingredient or a flavor or even an image.”

“Like a vision board?” Izzy looked intrigued. “Those are good for manifesting. And I love how old-school you are, using, like, actual books instead of Instagram. Books are sooo tactile, right? In fact, I’m thinking of starting an online book club. My agent says they’re very hot right now.”

Cam wasn’t sure about Izzy’s woo-woo terminology and was even less sure that Izzy had actually cracked a book in the last decade, but whatever. As long as it kept her occupied.

Cam took a deep sip of coffee and pulled out her notebook to review her shopping list for a final time. “Hey, Birdie?” she asked, pulling an unfamiliar piece of paper from the pages. “Did Ian drop this off for me?” The paper looked like a drawing of the house’s floor plan with detailed measurements taken in Ian’s neat, penciled handwriting.

“Not that I know,” Birdie said.

“I don’t know how one of his plans got mixed up in my things,” Cam said, and even as the words were coming out of her mouth, she knew.

Damn you, Ada.

Apparently the ghost was showing her unhappiness with Cam again, this time by forcing her into proximity with the man she needed to stay as far away from as she could. Well, she had done it once without losing her cool, and she could do it again. She threw on her coat and went out to greet Ian, who was setting up for the day, his breath forming little puffs in the chilly morning air. The collar of his coat was turned up, and Cam caught herself admiring his strong jawline.

“Hi, Ian,” she started, mentally shaking herself. “Sorry to bother you, but somehow I think I accidentally picked up one of your plans.” She held it out to him, and he took it with a puzzled look.

“That’s weird,” he said. “I keep the plans in my notebook, and that’s always out here with me.”

“Yeah, I must have put it with my things without realizing it.” Cam waved her hand, wishing she could explain away the odd happening more easily.

“Are you sure you’re okay with all my plans?” he asked. “If you want to see anything or go over anything, just ask, and I’m happy to do it,” he said. “After all, it’s what you’re paying me for.”

Great, Cam thought, now Ian suspected she was checking up on him.