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Caitlin took it. “Sure thing. January?”
“I’m sorry, but I have to knock off early to make certain the caterers have everything under control. There’s some hangup with the crab.” I glanced at my watch. “It’s lunch time, so I’m heading out. See you tomorrow. Text me if something big goes down.”
“Will do,” Tad said from his desk. “I hope you get everything worked out with the caterer. I checked off for crab, so let’s cross our fingers they manage to come through.” He laughed, waving.
I shrugged into my coat and headed for the door. As I stepped out on the porch, I saw that it was beginning to snow again. The snow that was on the ground had already begun to melt, but now the temperature had dropped and a thin sprinkling of flakes gave the sky a sparkling look. I inhaled, my breath cut short by the chill, then stuck my head back inside.
“Hey, it’s snowing again! It’s tiny flakes right now, but my radar tells me it’s going to start coming down hard soon.” I snugged my coat tighter and grabbed a scarf from my purse and wrapped it around my neck, then stepped out into the weather. The steps up to the porch were slick, and I texted Tad before heading to my car.
have hank spread some rock salt on the steps and sidewalk or we could be facing a lawsuit if somebody slips.
will do. we have some in the storage room. thanks. good luck with the crab.
Smiling, I cautiously descended the stairs and made a beeline for my car.
* * *
Twinkle Toes Cateringwas located in one of the strip malls near my house. The drive up Arnica Avenue had strained my nerves because it was cold enough that the snow was making the roads slick and the meltoff was starting to freeze, but not enough snow had fallen to give any traction. Since the road was one of two that curved around a slow series of S-curves to the upper area of Moonshadow Bay, there were very few other routes I could take to get home, but that didn’t mean it was easygoing.
I finally came to level ground and breathed a sigh of relief, pulling into an espresso stand for a double mocha, piping hot and full of chocolate and peppermint. I knew the sugar wasn’t good for me, but I needed the jolt. The break from the driving gave me time to stop shaking and, by the time I was on my way again, I had calmed down.
Twinkle Toes was on Blueberry Avenue, and as I took an easy left onto it, the snow began to fall in earnest, thick flakes sheeting down, covering the road and the windshield. I turned on the wipers, and glanced up at the sky. The clouds had socked in so thick that I knew it was going to snow through the night.
Finally, I saw the Everest Strip Mall up ahead. Easing into the left turn lane, I waited for a big-enough opening in oncoming traffic to safely make it. I parked in front of the caterers and, picking up my purse and mocha, stepped out of the car and scrunched my way over to the catering company’s door, leaning my shoulder against it to let myself in.
“Hey,” I said, shaking the snow from my hair as I entered the shop. “I made it.”
Alyssa, the owner of the catering company, waved me over to her desk. I sat down, sniffing the air. The scent of fresh, yeasty bread filled the shop and made my mouth water.
“You look hungry,” she said.
“I’m not, but the smell is intoxicating.” I settled down at the desk and took a deep breath. “That smells so good. What are you baking?”
“Rolls for a party tonight. We make extra, so would you like one? Fresh butter, too,” she added.
I gave in. Regardless of what I’d eaten, there was no way I could ignore that scent. “Just…one. Or two. Or the entire batch,” I said, laughing. “If you have enough left over, I’ll buy them from you.” Rowan would welcome them for the dinner—I always brought something.
“I think we have enough left for that. Let me go check before they get everything packed up.” She disappeared into the back where their kitchen was. I looked around the shop. The walls were painted a pale pinkish-peach, with an unobtrusive border of roses and hearts over a crosshatching of gold lines that reminded me of a fishnet pattern. The display cases showed mockups of different meals—food art, I had found out during our first appointment—that looked better than real food. The desk I was sitting at was a distressed white, and the chairs had smooth peach microfiber cushions padding the seats.
Alyssa returned, bearing a bag that smelled like the rolls, and she also had a dessert plate with two rolls and butter on it. “Here you go. And a dozen rolls to take with you.”
“How much do I owe you?” I moved for my purse but she shook her head.
“Free of charge. We would have eaten them anyway. All right, while you eat, let me tell you what our problem is.” She outlined the fact that there was a severe crab shortage at the moment due to the harvest quotas granted to the fishermen who worked the northern seas. “The quotes have been curtailed to record lows. I can get the crab we need for the bisque, but it’s going to cost four times what we normally pay. I can’t eat that cost. We were hoping to find a cheaper source, but for the quality we use, we can’t find anywhere else for less. If we use a different crab, the bisque won’t taste as good. So, what do you want us to do? The choices are to either pay the extra, or we can change the soup to something less expensive. We could change to shrimp bisque.”
I thought about it for a moment. “How much extra will it cost to get the crab?”
We had invited the members of the Royal Order of the Wand and Sword to the reception, though not the wedding itself, because of my grandmother’s status. Since I was her granddaughter, there was the expectation that the local magical upper crust would be invited.
Rowan had offered to help us pay for the reception because of that, but we had turned her down. Between us, we could afford it, even though—if it had been totally up to us—we would have thrown a pizza party at our home with our closest and dearest.
“For the number of people who chose the crab bisque as their starter…I’m afraid it will cost another five hundred dollars.” She glanced up at me. “At the lowest. It could run upward of another eight hundred. If we switch out to shrimp bisque, then I can bring it in at a slightly lower cost than the original amount.”
We were already paying $8,000 for dinner, not including the hors d’oeuvres, liquor, cake, and take-home snacks. What was another $500 on top of that?
“Are you sure you can get the crab if we pay the extra?”
“If I put in the order today. They’re holding it for me till five.”
