Four
It always came back to the robbery. The robbery, the bank, money, money, money – it was all Eliza could think about. She didn’t want to talk about it, too.
Back in the kitchen, her lemon-blueberry cupcakes were cool enough to frost. It was her fifth batch this week, and she’d finally achieved the golden-brown shade Granny’s were known for.
Eliza spent hours obsessing over recipes, reading how temperatures of butter or milk affected a bake, tweaking here and there, trying to make them absolutely perfect.
Cupcakes were pleasant to obsess over. Much more pleasant than her mortifying, world-famous trip to the bank two weeks prior.
Eliza knew she’d messed up. She’d helped a guy rob a bank. She’d carried his bags. She had dumped a bomb onto the ground!
The ATF determined it was a fake bomb after the fact, but still. She’d done it.
It was so bad, the ATF agent who interviewed her found it hard to believe she wasn’t involved with the robbery.
“Are we really supposed to believe you’re that stupid?” the agent had asked.
Eliza didn’t know how to answer that, so she said, “Yes.”
The agent had thought Eliza was being sarcastic, but nothing could be further from the truth. They eventually let her leave, but that question echoed in her mind day and night.
She picked up a teapot and added three teaspoons of loose tea, stooping to breathe in the cinnamon before pouring in the boiling water.
It was a lovely tea. She’d already had two cups that morning, but one more wouldn’t hurt. She loaded her serving tray, adding two lemon blueberry cupcakes.
“All right, one hot cinnamon spice and one cupcake.” She set the teapot and plate in front of him.
Joey peered up at her. “I didn’t know it came with a cupcake.”
“It’s on the house. One of my new creations.”
“Are you going to join me?” He nodded toward the second cupcake. “To discuss our reward?”
Eliza scoffed. “I can’t help you, but I wish you the best of luck in finding the guy.”
He picked up the cupcake and bit into the top, icing dotting his nose. “Wow.”
“That bad, huh?” Eliza put her hands on her hips and sighed. “I never promised they’d be as good as my Granny’s.”
“No, it’s not bad. It’s incredible . This is literally the best cupcake I’ve ever had.”
“You must not eat a lot of cupcakes,” Eliza said.
“I eat them all the time. I had the alleged best cupcake in the US, and yours blows it out of the water.” He took another bite and, with his mouth full, asked, “Can I get three more?”
Eliza laughed. “Sure.”
She popped into the kitchen, grabbing a plate of cupcakes and her cup of tea.
“I haven’t tried these yet,” she said, sitting down across from him. “They need tea to be properly enjoyed.”
“Agreed,” he said, promptly picking up the teapot to fill his cup.
Eliza used a fork to sample the edge of the cupcake. The blueberry mixture was sweeter this time – she’d added a little extra sugar and vanilla – and the lemon wasn’t as overpowering as the last batch, where she’d somehow used the sourest lemons on planet earth.
“Better,” she said slowly, “but I think I need to add more vanilla.”
He stared at her, wiping a crumb from the corner of his mouth. “How long have you been doing this?”
“Baking cupcakes?” She shrugged. “Since I became the laughingstock of the island.”
“Wait, really? You’re not a professional?”
She took a sip of tea and shook her head. It was so hot it burned the roof of her mouth – but still so good. “No. I’m just helping here for a while.”
He stuffed the rest of the cupcake into his mouth, then added another to his plate. “Too bad. I was going to say you could take your half of the reward money and open a bakery.”
Eliza rolled her eyes. “Right. The reward money we’d totally get because we’d find this guy.”
“We would. I believe in us.”
She couldn’t help but laugh – really laugh – this time. “You must be desperate for money.”
“Who doesn’t need money?” He finished the second cupcake and took a swig of tea. “I’m just saying we would make a unique team.”
“Uh huh.”
He flashed a smile. His teeth were exceptionally straight – the kind of straight that could only be achieved with braces. Had his parents really needed to do that? Make him more handsome through orthodontics?
“Okay, I know I don’t seem super impressive, and you could probably recruit a much more qualified team, but hear me out.”
She sat back, tea in hand. She didn’t know what he was going on about – recruiting a team – but she liked to watch him talk. His eyes lit up every time she brushed him off, and he had a dimple in his right cheek when he smiled.
“I’ve worked on a fishing boat in Alaska. I flew a private jet for a billionaire who referred to me as his ‘air horse.’”
She frowned. “Weird.”
“It was.” Joey nodded and went on. “I got shot at flying out of Ghana, and I’ve flown through thunderstorms and landed in hailstorms. I’ve survived flying through fog thick enough to send a bomber into the Empire State Building.”
Eliza gasped. “You can’t joke about plane crashes! Didn’t that actually happen?”
A smirk crossed his face, the dimple engaging. “That crash was like eighty years ago. What about the Hindenburg? Too soon to joke about that, too?”
“I don’t know.” Eliza set her tea down. “Probably.”
“Well, sorry.” He cleared his throat. “I’m telling you, I’d be a great partner for this.”
Men and their confidence. Eliza leaned in. “Let me tell you something. I’m not doubting you. I’m telling you I’d be a terrible partner. I ruin everything I touch. I destroy lives – usually just my own, but I’m pretty sure I have the capacity to ruin others’ if I put my mind to it.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t believe any of that.”
“Well, it’s true.” She sat back, arms crossed over her chest.
He downed the rest of his tea and set the cup onto the saucer with a clatter. “I guess I have to prove you wrong. No one who makes cupcakes like that can destroy lives.”
Eliza stood. “I assure you I can.”
He stood and stepped closer, towering above her. “Will you be here Saturday?”
Her heart leapt a little in her chest. “Why?”
“That’s when we start our search. I’ll see you then.” He smiled, picked up his coat, and walked out.
Eliza was left sitting there, her mouth hanging open as Granny came through the front door.
“Who was that?” she asked, a smile on her lips.
“A man with entirely too much confidence,” Eliza said, standing and picking up the plates.