The Diva Frosts a Cupcake (7 page)

CHAPTER TEN

Dear Sophie,

We’d like to take our dog on the road with us this summer, but I’m worried about where we’ll stay. We’ve never traveled with a dog before.

—Timmy in Collietown, Arkansas

Dear Timmy,

Plan your route ahead of time so you can make reservations at dog-friendly hotels. Be sure to ask about weight or size restrictions. Happily, many hotels offer special amenities for dogs, like bedtime treats on their pillows and doggie room service.

—Sophie

The person paused and leaned over to pat Daisy, which made me feel like he must be friend, not foe. But his demeanor left me a little bit wary. I made a mental note to start bringing my cell phone outside with me.

I couldn’t quite make out his identity in the dark. Had he come to see me, or was he dodging someone and had simply snuck inside my fence to hide? I watched him for a moment. He turned around.

“Sophie!” It was a loud whisper. He’d clearly seen me.

As he drew near, I realized it was Spenser. “Hi! What’s going on? Is it about Buddy?”

“I wish it were. I’m heartbroken about that dog. If only someone would find the poor guy.” He took in my outdoor room, gazing up at the lofted ceiling and twinkling lights. “Nice place.”

“Thanks. I think there’s some margarita left. Could I interest you in one?”

“Yes, please!”

I fetched a clean glass, poured a drink, and handed it to him. “What brings you here?”

He rested on an Adirondack chair and focused on the margarita. Was he avoiding my eyes?

“Sophie, you’re a very nice woman. And attractive, too!”

He said the last part in a rush, which made me smile. He was greasing me up for something with those compliments.

“Under other circumstances, I would be flattered by your interest . . .” He peeked up at me, turning his face slightly as if he were afraid of my response.

I laughed. “My interest? What are you trying to say, Spenser? Spit it out!”

He chugged back half the margarita. “I can’t date you!”

I hadn’t expected
that
! What on earth? Did he think I was in the habit of dating married men because of my relationship with Wolf? There had been extenuating circumstances. Why didn’t people realize that? I worked at keeping my tone friendly. “Of course not. You’re married, and I don’t date married men.”
There. I’d said it up front—clear as could be
. Not that there had ever been any question of dating him, or any indication of anything of the sort. He’d caught me off guard. Why would he have imagined such a thing? I racked my brain for anything I might have said or done that could have misled him. Had I told him I was in love with his cupcakes?

He heaved a great sigh. “I believe I’ve put my foot in it. You’re not chasing me, are you?”

I was tempted to say what he had—that he was a nice man
and attractive, too
! Instead I asked, “Does this have anything to do with Clarissa being so angry with me?” I sipped my drink.

“She thinks we’re having an affair.”

I spewed margarita.

“And two other people have asked me about it, as well.”

Dabbing my shirt with a napkin, I said, “No wonder you had trouble broaching the subject. Why would anyone think that?” It certainly explained Clarissa’s odd outbreak at the coffee place and her ire when I showed up for the desk. No wonder she thought I had nerve to come to her house.

Spenser acted bashful. “I thought maybe you had a little crush on me, and . . .”

This time I choked. Coughing to clear my throat, I sputtered, “You thought I told people that we were having an affair?” I wiped my watering eyes. “What would that accomplish? Besides, don’t most people try to keep their affairs under wraps so people
won’t
find out about them?”

Looking much relieved, Spenser sat back in his chair and crossed a leg over his knee. “You can imagine how well it went over when you turned up at my house with Humphrey today.”

“Actually, I didn’t realize we were going to your house. After my brush with Clarissa this morning, I would never have intentionally visited your home.”

Spenser sipped his margarita and frowned. “If you didn’t suggest it to anyone, then I don’t understand. It’s not like we could have been seen together anywhere, thus raising suspicions.”

I sighed. “It’s possible that my split with Wolf has made me Grade A Prime meat for the gossip mill. Sounds like you were the unwitting victim. I’m so sorry, Spenser. I’ll talk to Clarissa about it tomorrow and straighten her out.”

Spenser rose. “Thanks, Sophie. I’d appreciate that. See you tomorrow night at the cupcake feast. Call my cell if there’s any word about Buddy. I’d love to bring him to the banquet tomorrow night.”

He let himself out. I finished cleaning up and put out the fire but couldn’t get Buddy out of my mind. Old Town was in for a rollicking weekend. Would he hide from people or come out in search of food? Or had Maurice locked him up somewhere?

I was tempted to take Daisy for a drive through Old Town to look for him. Only then did it finally dawn on me that I had forgotten all about my car. It was still parked behind Sugar Baby.

I found my spare key, since Humphrey still had the other one, latched a leash onto Daisy, and walked toward Market Square. An occasional breeze brought scents of irises my way. Within a few blocks, though, I approached the heart of Old Town, and it buzzed with Friday night fever. The restaurants teemed with people.

A deep bark made Daisy’s ears perk up. She tugged at the lead and rounded into the circular drive of a very upscale hotel. Could it be Buddy?

A yellow lab pranced happily in the driveway and barked again. So much for that. But there, wearing a big smile and watching the lab, was Spenser. He ambled past the dog and up the main steps into the hotel.

It wasn’t too late to be out and about. But it was a bit late for a business meeting. I felt incredibly guilty for imagining anything inappropriate, but what else could I think? I watched from the street for a moment, trying to convince myself that it wasn’t what it looked like. Maybe he had a friend who worked there. Maybe he was meeting someone visiting from out of town. Or maybe Clarissa was right about him having an affair. She just had the wrong woman.

I was being silly. Cake My Day was in competition for best cupcake. He’d probably brought some people in from other stores to help with the baking and was having a drink with them in the hotel bar.

Shaking my head about the fact that I had become so suspicious of everyone, I walked on.

A memorial to Muffin had appeared in front of Sugar Baby. Flowers, candles, and the occasional teddy bear stretched all the way across the storefront. Ominous yellow crime scene tape on the front door fluttered gently in the breeze.

Someone had blown up a photo of Muffin wearing her Sugar Baby apron and propped it in front of the door, under the yellow tape. She’d been so young and full of life. A few people slowed down to read the messages and tributes to Muffin.

Daisy and I walked farther up the street and turned behind the row of buildings.

The alley lay quiet and a bit forbidding. An occasional light by a back door shone in the night, but no streetlights or spotlights brightened the area. Fences blocked the rear view of some buildings, while others were clearly businesses with off-street parking in the back. A door slammed somewhere. A man and a woman raised their voices in an argument about whose turn it was to walk the dog. I couldn’t tell where they were, but reflected that their neighbors knew everything about them when lovely spring air moved them to open their windows.

Daisy sniffed the side of the alley, no doubt smelling the scent of other dogs who had walked that way earlier in the day. A dog barked behind one of the fences. Daisy and I swung around to look. But something else distracted Daisy. She turned and growled.

A shadowy figure emerged in the darkness. Tall and lean, he loped toward us. I shrank back and pulled Daisy closer. I could see the back of my car. If we made a run for it, would we be able to jump inside before he reached it?

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Dear Sophie,

Cupcakes are all the rage at the parties my kids attend. Some of these moms could rival Natasha in the cupcake-decorating department! I have neither the time nor the talent. How can I dress up cupcakes with less fuss?

—Exhausted Mom in Sprinkle, Texas

Dear Exhausted Mom,

Pour sprinkles or colored sugar into a shallow bowl. Apply frosting to your cupcakes with a knife, or spatula, ending with a little peak in the middle. Before the frosting sets, roll the edge of the cupcake in the sprinkles or sugar. Adorable in no time at all, and no talent required!

—Sophie

Would it be better to run in the other direction, toward the street?

Too late. Evidently, he hadn’t noticed us before, because he screamed—a short, ear-splitting howl—like he’d seen a ghost.

“Sophie!” Maurice Lester slammed a hand over his heart. “What are you doing here?”

Me? I had every right to be there. Then again, so did everyone else in the world, including Maurice. The alley was open to the public. Moving so slowly that I hoped he might not notice, I edged toward the SUV. “I came to get my car. What are you doing here?”

The dim light did nothing to enhance his appearance. His eyes sank into dark cadaver-like holes. His stringy white hair seemed to glow. “I brought flowers for Muffin from my garden. I, uh, well, I didn’t want anybody to see me putting them out. There’s a big crowd out front, so I thought I’d bring them around back, where it’s more private and solemn.”

We’d done a semicircular dance, with me moving toward my car and him moving toward the alley exit. Now I felt like a heel. He’d done something thoughtful and kind. Why hadn’t it occurred to me to bring flowers from my garden?

This was a side of Maurice I had never seen or heard about. Could his grumpy behavior be a cover-up for a human being with a heart? I took a chance. “Look, Maurice, everyone is upset about the disappearance of that black and tan dog—”

“I don’t have it,” he shouted. “Stop acting like I do. The
police
came to my house about that worthless mutt.” His voice rose in pitch and volume. “I didn’t take it!”

With that, he sprinted off into the night.

So much for him having a heart. I hurried Daisy to my car. Although she usually jumped in from a back door or the rear hatch, this time I urged her over the driver’s seat and clambered in behind her as fast as I could. I mashed the lever that locked all the doors, turned on the ignition, and felt better when the headlights illuminated the alley.

I toyed with the notion of calling the police, but other than the fact that Maurice had been in the alley, which certainly wasn’t against the law, I really couldn’t justify notifying them. What would I say?
A grumpy man was in back of Sugar Baby leaving flowers.
Big deal. They would want to know why I had returned and would likely think I was the one acting peculiar.

I turned the high beams on and angled the SUV so I could see the back of Sugar Baby clearly. Police tape sagged across the door, and a spray of pink flowers lay on the stoop. It looked like a branch from an azalea bush.

There was nothing else to see, and I was beat. I drove out of the alley and merged into the traffic that crawled through Old Town. I caught a light and watched as people crossed the street in front of me. Maurice Lester hurried across the intersection and almost ran into Alex, who appeared to be waiting for someone at the corner. Funny, I’d been under the impression he didn’t know anyone in Old Town.

Wishing I could find Buddy, I drove home and parked in the garage. Either he was wandering the streets, or the person who’d stolen him had confined him somewhere.

The next morning I rose leisurely, thankful I didn’t have to rush off anywhere and looking forward to the cupcake feast in the evening. I was mincing onion for my breakfast when my ex-husband, Mars, rapped on the kitchen door. Through the window, I could see Nina dashing up behind him.

Mars stepped inside with Martha, Natasha’s little Chihuahua, and set her on the floor. “Ouch! Your eye looks painful.”

“It looks worse than it feels.”

Nina made a beeline for the coffee on the counter and promptly poured it into two mugs.

Daisy eagerly sniffed Martha. My cat, Mochie, approached her from behind, very politely. But Martha whipped around and yipped at him. He retreated to the cushioned window seat in a huff and washed his fur with smug feline indifference.

“I see you’re already in charge of Martha.” I hauled cremini mushrooms and more eggs out of the refrigerator.

“I thought I’d pick up Daisy and take them both for a run. Can you believe Natasha bought a dog? Normally I’m partial to bigger dogs, but Martha is quite a character.” Mars bent over to adjust Martha’s rhinestone collar. “We have to watch her like hawks because she loves to grab things and run off with them. Last night she managed to jump up on Natasha’s vanity. She pawed open one of those little compacts with powder. Natasha saw her digging in it, and when she tried to take it away, the little scamp jumped to the floor with it in her mouth and ran like the wind. I thought we’d never catch her. The funny thing is that she hid it or dropped it somewhere, and now we can’t find it.” He chuckled and watched her like an adoring dad. “But I’m worried that Martha is a replacement for Vegas.”

“Vegas left?” I asked Mars.

Natasha’s distant teenage relative, Vegas, had lived with them for a couple of years while her father served in the military. The poor kid’s mother had disappeared without a trace.

“Her dad is back. They’re living out in Sterling, so it’s not like we’ll never see her again, but I think Natasha is taking it harder than she lets on. This dog thing, for instance. We have Daisy every other week, and Nat never wants to walk her, feed her, or even have her in the house. I don’t understand her new fascination with tiny dogs.”

Nina handed a mug of coffee to Mars. “You don’t read Natasha’s column, do you? Some of her fans have been asking about her dog.”

Mars ran a hand up his forehead and through his hair. “I had no idea. That explains everything. Why couldn’t she just use Daisy?” He reached over and hugged Daisy. A sad sigh escaped his lips.

I couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. Mars was a good guy. I still didn’t quite understand his attraction to Natasha, but then, who can explain why any two people are attracted to each other? One thing was for sure, the saga of little Martha was only beginning, and I was fairly sure she would end up being in Mars’s care.

Nina was watching me like Daisy did when I was making her dinner.

“Hungry?” I asked.

“Starved! What are you cooking?”

“After all that sugar yesterday, I thought nice savory eggs with onion and mushrooms would be good for breakfast.”

“Sounds great.” She set the table while Mars perched on one of the fireside chairs, observing Daisy and Martha playing.

“Shouldn’t you be working on tonight’s dinner?” I asked Nina.

She laced her fingers together and proudly flexed them in the air. “Everything is under control. The tent is up. The weather is supposed to be almost summerlike. The chairs and tables are being set up as we speak. I have one hour before I have to return to check on everything. After yesterday’s disasters, I expect it to go swimmingly tonight. The only problem is Buddy’s disappearance. And we know who has him. We just can’t prove it.”

Mars shook his head. “I heard about that! Maurice is a weird guy anyway, but who would steal a shelter dog unless it belonged to him?”

I hadn’t thought of that. “Nina? Could that be the case?”

“I seriously doubt it. Wasn’t it odd the way he didn’t even notice Buddy until Spenser made a fuss over him?” She shuddered. “Creepy!”

“Do you think they’re having some sort of spat over Clarissa?” asked Mars.

I slid the eggs into the oven. “
Eww
. Why would Clarissa be interested in Maurice? I doubt it. Besides, Clarissa thinks I’m having an affair with Spenser.”

Nina laughed hysterically, but Mars asked, “You’re not, are you?”

The fear that flashed in his eyes reminded me of the romantic moment we had shared. It had been well over a year ago, so I’d hoped that it was a mere aberration—the consequence of a stress-filled moment in our lives when everything had gone haywire. But the look he leveled on me as he waited for my answer shook me, and I wondered if everything was completely over between us after all.

“Don’t be silly. If there is one thing I have learned about myself, it’s that I am not cut out to be the other woman.” Even if the man in question was my ex-husband and he hadn’t married the woman with whom he lived.

“She only dates murder suspects,” jested Nina.

“Not funny!” I protested vehemently. Her reference to my most recent beau, Wolf, prompted me to add, “No men who are married, separated, have missing wives, or are murder suspects.”

“No one else I know has that kind of problem.” Mars laughed and Nina joined in.

“Do you two want brunch? I’d recommend not teasing the cook if you’re hungry.” They didn’t seem one bit worried. “What are you doing here anyway, Mars? Did Natasha kick you out of the kitchen?”

“She’s a terror right now. Totally stressed about tonight’s cupcake banquet. I feel sorry for her assistant, Leon. She’s working him to death and, unlike me, he can’t escape.”

“Which course does she have?” I asked.

Nina mimicked a game show buzzer when a contestant provides the wrong answer. “No one is allowed to know except for me. I even gave the bakers identical paper cupcake liners so no one can vote for their favorite bakery. It’s all going to be anonymous.”

Nina’s departure after brunch left me exactly where I didn’t want to be—alone with Mars. I rinsed the dishes and he stacked them in the dishwasher, annoyingly like we were married again.

Eager to get out of the house, I pulled on walking shoes and told Mars I’d walk partway down to the park with him and the dogs. Besides, I had one major errand to take care of before the dinner.

The temperature had soared into the mid-eighties and people flooded Old Town’s sidewalks. We were pleased to see a stellar turnout at Cupcakes and Pupcakes on Market Square. To my total shock, Renee was back selling cupcakes at her booth. Even more astonishing, Humphrey was helping her.

Mars leaned over, and whispered, “That Renee is one tough cupcake.”

“Humphrey’s crazy mad about her, but I’m worried that she’s taking advantage of him.”

“Are you sure you’re not jealous?”

“What?”

“He’s been chasing you for years. Are you certain that you’re not feeling a little bit miffed that someone else has his attention?”

“Of course not.” That was ridiculous. But it might not be a bad time to straighten out Mars about our relationship. “Humphrey and I are just friends. Like you and me.”

“Uh-huh. Go ahead and tell yourself that. Our relationship doesn’t begin to equate to a friendship.”

What did that mean? He grinned at me, which I found annoying and worrisome. I didn’t have a chance to retort, though, because he wiggled his eyebrows and took off at a slow jog with the dogs.

Aargh. I was going to have to sit down with him one of these days and straighten things out. I should have done that immediately after the big kiss, but I’d let it slide, hoping it would just dissipate like the gas in a balloon. Obviously it hadn’t. And I didn’t like the fact that I’d been such a chicken about it. If it had happened with anyone else, I’d have confronted the situation head-on. Why did I try so hard to avoid that with Mars?

I left Market Square and walked the six blocks to Spenser’s house. Along the way, I couldn’t help thinking that what I was doing was a perfect example of preferring to tackle a problem directly. The last thing I wanted was for Clarissa to blow up at me again in public.

The day had grown warm, and the sticky humidity more typical of summer air made my skin moist as I walked up the stairs to Spenser’s home and knocked on the door.

Clarissa opened it about four inches. She appeared alarmed to see me.

“I hope you don’t mind my dropping by, but I’d like to clear something up.”

Her lips turned inward. She poked her head out and looked up and down the street nervously.