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Damn, that was today. Sure enough, her calendar chimed with the reminder to be at the B&B in an hour.
She’d completely spaced on it. It was too late to arrange their usual photographer. He was almost always accommodating on short notice, but an hour wastooshort. It wouldn’t have been had she been in the office the day before as planned. She could have called him.
She’d have to take the photos herself.
Shutting her laptop, she jumped up from the desk, texting Sarah as she went.
On my way.
She hurried out of the office and to her car. Climbing in, she put on her seat belt as her phone calendar chimed. She glanced down at it.
Meeting with the printers at two p.m.
Shit!
That didn’t give her much time. It was already after noon. Twenty minutes in and out of the B&B, she’d have to hope not to hit midday traffic as she made her way across town. Her head ached, and she squinted in the sunlight’s glare as she sped along the streets toward Dove’s Nest.
Her phone rang, and seeing her boss’s number lighting up the call display, she resisted the urge to scream as she hit the Bluetooth connection on the dash. “Hey, Mayor Rodale. I’m just on the way to the B&B to get the photos of the haunted house.”
“The photographer meeting you there?”
“No…”Think quick.
“He wasn’t available?”
She hadn’t booked him. “These should be quick. I thought I’d just take them. No sense in paying the hourly rate.”
“Okay, good thinking. When will you be back in the office? I have a new client coming by—they opened a new flower shop on Main Street and wanted to discuss some promotion opportunities.”
“After the B&B, I have to stop by the printers to pick up the holiday promotional packs, but I should be back by three or three thirty?” As long as traffic was okay and there weren’t any delays or issues with the promo packs.
“Oh dear…that’s a little late,” Mayor Rodale said. “You know what, don’t worry. Scott’s here. I’ll ask him to meet with the client, and he can fill you in.”
She swallowed hard, clenching the steering wheel tight. “Sure,” she said through gritted teeth. Her head throbbed, a migraine coming on. “Sorry about that.”
“Remember, Scott can help if you need him. Don’t try to do everything yourself.”
Great, her boss must have sensed her irritation. “Of course. Scott’s a great assistant,” she said before disconnecting the call. An assistant who could easily replace her if she took her foot off the gas for even a second.
Pressing the pedal a little harder, she got on with her never-ending to-do list.
…
His cousin was a true artist. Staring at the Halloween cake in the shape of Dracula, Trent couldn’t believe it was made from cake, puffed rice, fondant, and sugar.
“It looks so realistic. Those eyes seem to be following me,” he said, moving from side to side in her bakery later that day. The amazing spun-sugar eyes were seriously impressive. It was no wonder Jess’s business was such a success. Her baked goods were the best he’d ever tasted, and her attention to detail in her decorating was second to none.
Jess laughed. “Here, try one of these,” she said, holding out a tray of dark, round spiders with black licorice legs and white- and milk-chocolate-chip eyes.
Trent picked one up and bit into the thin, crisp dome shell. Chocolate mixed with a spicy hotness awakened his taste buds. “So good,” he said, his mouth full. “Mexican hot chocolate?”
“Yep.”
He took in the rest of the haunted house desserts she was boxing up—severed finger sugar cookies, Frankenstein’s monster–shaped gingerbread, tombstone chocolate cookies…and hundreds of each.
“This is really impressive,” he said. “I’m sure Sarah is relieved you didn’t sell the bakery last year.” Jess had turned down a million-dollar offer from a large chain store wanting to buy her out. She loved her small hometown and being close to family that much.
Jess checked her watch. “Speaking of…I have to get all of this over to the B&B.”
