Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
The kitchen felt like Christmas the following morning, warm and filled with a delectable mix of scents of browned butter, vanilla, cinnamon, and bourbon while Andrea hunched over her third batch of tester cupcakes.
She’d spent the morning trying to recreate the flavor profile Wes had described the night before—that glaze his grandmother put on the pecan tassies that was “sort of like caramel, but not as sweet.” The challenge was intriguing, a puzzle that had her mind working in ways it hadn’t for weeks.
Flour dusted the front of her long-sleeve shirt and a smudge of batter adorned her left cheek, but Andrea was too focused to notice. For the first time in ages, she felt locked in. Fully immersed in the creative process.
She held her breath as she cracked the oven door to check her latest attempt. Gently, she prodded at the crested peaks and smiled.
“Looking good,” she murmured, peering at the rising domes. “No cracks, consistent color…”
“Are you talking to your food again?” Phantom’s irritated voice came from his sunny spot on the windowsill. “Or is this the pep talk before you sacrifice another batch to the garbage gods?”
“They’re not sacrifices, they’re prototypes,” Andrea replied without turning around. “And this batch is going to be different.”
“Mmhmm. That’s what you said about the last three.”
Andrea straightened and pushed a strand of hair from her forehead with the back of her wrist. “You know, for someone who suggested fish-flavored frosting yesterday, you’re awfully critical.”
“I have refined tastes.” Phantom sniffed, then stretched languidly before sitting up, his whiskers twitching. “Though I will admit, failure has never smelled so appetizing. At least tell me these ones are safe for cats.”
Crumpet gave a happy wag of his tail from the carpet by the back door, where he too had spent the morning sunbathing.
“These aren’t for you,” she told the pup, then added a pointed look for the cat, too. “These ones are for Wes.”
“Wes?”
Andrea rolled her eyes. “The so-called lumberjack.”
Phantom scoffed. “I should have known.”
He flopped back down, with the drama of a community theater understudy in the throes of their Macbeth monologue.
Andrea laughed softly and checked the cupcakes a second time when the official timer chirped. Deciding they were as close to perfect as they were likely to get, she turned off the heat and pulled out the tray. A dozen chocolate cherry cupcakes stood at the ready, in case she needed options.
She left them to cool and was about to peek out the front window, to see if she might catch a glimpse of Wes, when her phone rang.
Lainey’s name appeared on the screen, along with a photo of her friend making an exaggerated duck face while wearing a flower crown from last spring’s Earth Day festival.
“Someone’s up early,” Andrea answered, doing the quick math in her head as she drifted back toward the window.
“It’s almost nine-thirty,” Lainey protested.
Andrea smiled. “Mmhmm, and what time did you go to bed this morning?”
Lainey laughed. “That’s not important.”
Among her friend group in Los Angeles, Lainey was well established as the night owl, with a propensity to go on sporadic middle-of-the-night road trips to the coast or north, to the redwoods, in an attempt to escape the confines of the city and reconnect with Mother Gaia, her patron goddess.
“What about you? Somehow, I’m envisioning you waking up at the crack of dawn, even while you’re supposedly on vacation,” Lainey said, a note of warm teasing in her voice.
“Technically, this is only half of a vacation,” Andrea corrected. “I’m still on deadline, remember?”
“I know, I know,” Lainey replied. “I’m honestly reeling that you left the bakery in December. But hey, sometimes a witch needs a change of scenery. I know that better than most.”
Andrea smiled and peeked through the curtains.
Her heart gave a ridiculous little flutter when she recognized Wes’s broad shoulders as he lifted a toolbox from the truck bed.
Another truck pulled up and a man hopped out, two takeout bags in his gloved hands, and Wes called something over to him and the men laughed.
His smile really was warm enough to melt the icicles hanging from the eaves of the row houses.
“Um, Gaia to Andi?”
Andrea blinked and pulled back from the window. “Hmm? Sorry. What did you say? I got—uh—distracted. The cat almost tripped me!”
From across the room, Phantom cracked open one eye and scowled, clearly not appreciating his reputation being smeared mid-nap.
“There’s a cat?!” Lainey all but squealed into Andrea’s ear. “What kind?”
Andrea frowned. “Um, I don’t know. He’s black and sort of fluffy?”
Phantom stood and whipped his tail through the air, then jumped down and stalked from the room.
Andrea winced, almost certain she’d pay for her mistake later.
“Well, he sounds adorable!” Lainey gushed. “I was just asking how the baking is going. Are you feeling inspired? Mountain air is so chock full of energy! I’ll bet you get through your final touches in no time at all!”
“We’ll see,” Andrea replied, circling back to the kitchen where the latest tester cupcakes sat cooling on the wire rack. “What about you? How are things there?”
“Busy,” Lainey said with a short exhale.
“You know how the holidays get—everyone wants their gardens blessed or their houseplants revived before company comes into town. I’ve also got a couple of pet-sitting clients at the moment.
It’s lucky I splashed out the cash for my broom’s tune-up last month.
I’m going to be putting some miles on it for sure! ”
Andrea smiled and bit back a laugh. Even within Hecate’s Kitchen, most witches stuck to cars and buses to get around town, but not Lainey.
She was one of a couple dozen who preferred the old-fashioned way of doing things.
If pressed, she’d say it was because of the carbon emissions, but Andrea thought she just liked the feel of the wind in her hair.
“That reminds me, I should check in with Marren and let her know the landscapers will be coming by tomorrow,” Andrea said, more to herself than Lainey, as she started gathering the ingredients she would need for the frosting.
A particularly loud crash echoed through the wall, and Andrea jolted. Another series of thumps followed, sounding like someone dropped a toolbox down a flight of stairs.
“What was that?” Lainey asked.
“Construction,” Andrea said with a groan. “There’s a whole crew next door. It’s been going on since I got here.”
“Yikes. So much for no distractions.”
“It’s not ideal, but I suppose I can’t complain too much—” The next few words jumbled together in her mind as she momentarily debated how much to say. A smile bloomed across her face. “I might have a tiny crush on the contractor.”
As soon as she said it, she squeezed her eyes closed.
“Oooooh!” Lainey squealed again. “Tell me everything! What’s his name? What does he look like? Is he magically inclined? Or, wait, you’re in a non-magic town, right?”
Andrea laughed, knowing she’d brought this upon herself.
“His name is Wes,” she said, keeping her voice somewhat quiet, although as a fresh round of pounding and banging started up, she knew it was virtually impossible that anyone would be able to hear her through the wall.
“And he’s taller than me, which is a major plus.
He’s got dark hair with a bit of a wave to it, a beard—but not in the icky, scratchy way.
It’s neat. And short enough to show off his dimples. ”
Was the kitchen getting hotter? She’d turned off the oven, hadn’t she?
“Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner, ladies and gents!” Lainey crowed. “And he’s gainfully employed, so there’s that. Are you going to ask him out? Oh! There’s snow there, right? You could go ice-skating! That would be so cute!”
“This isn’t a Hallmark movie, Lainey.”
“But it could be!” Andrea could all but hear the waggle in her friend’s eyebrows.
“We did bump into each other at the pub last night.”
“And?!”
“And we talked and then played darts. He actually gave me a good idea for a cupcake recipe.”
Lainey groaned. “Oh my goddess, Andi! You truly cannot help yourself, can you?”
“What?”
“I don’t want to hear about cupcakes, I want to hear about the beefcake!”
“Says the vegetarian,” Andrea replied.
Lainey laughed. “Touché. But you get my meaning.”
“Okay, fine. After the darts, he walked me to my car, and I don’t know, I kind of—well, it seemed like maybe he wanted to kiss me.”
“When are you seeing him again?”
Andrea chewed the corner of her lower lip as her gaze flicked to the adjoining wall, wondering what he was doing on the other side. The noise had stopped, presumably while the crew ate lunch. “I have to take him some cupcakes.”
“Is that code for something sexy?” Lainey teased.
Andrea barked a laugh. “No. It was part of a bet for the game of darts. It’ll probably be the end of it, to be honest. I mean what would be the point in dragging it out?
I’m only here for a couple weeks, and he’s clearly well-established here.
The whole thing would be over just as soon as it started. ”
“Who said anything about getting serious? No one is saying you have to get engaged to the guy. What’s wrong with a little holiday fling? Seriously, Andi, when was the last time you did something—or someone—just for fun? Just because it felt good?”
“I do fun things.”
“Mmhmm.”
It was almost impressive how much sarcasm Lainey could pack into a hum.
“Listen to me, Andrea, you’re in a charming little town with a charming man who clearly likes you, and you’re overthinking it into the ground.”
“I’m not overthinking—”
“You absolutely are,” Lainey interrupted. “And I’m going to need you to resist that urge and channel your inner Elsa.”
“Elsa?”
“You know, ‘Let It Go.’”
“Oh, goddess.”
Lainey scoffed. “You get my point. Stop asking questions and running calculations. Just be in the moment and live a little!”