Chapter 5
“Is that an otter in the bakery?” ~ Dakota
Dakota
I open my suite door and check both ways for Sadie. Once I confirm the coast is clear, I shut my door and make my way toward Main Street.
Don’t get me wrong. I like Sadie. She’s funny and tells the best stories. She’s also bored out of her mind working at the front desk. The last time I happened past her on my way to the laundry room for clean sheets, she regaled me with a story about her brothers letting the sheep escape and causing chaos all over the island for over an hour.
I don’t need another story I can’t understand. What I need is some time away from the hotel. Away from work.
I haven’t even had a chance to check out the town of Smuggler’s Rest yet. I’ve been either working one of my two jobs or sleeping.
I study the town as I wander. It’s adorable. I could see myself settling down here. Except I could never afford to buy a house since I have a mountain of debt to pay – courtesy of my dead husband.
I wish I could invent a time machine and go back two years to divorce the jerk before he died. Unfortunately, I didn’t know he was a jerk at the time. I was the na?ve fool who thought he was away on business all those weekends when he was actually gambling our money away when he wasn’t spending it on booze and hookers.
I should probably consider myself lucky I didn’t end up with some weird STD that causes boils on your face.
Enough of Adam. I want to enjoy my first day off in two weeks.
I notice a bakery shop up ahead – Pirates Pastries. The logo is adorable – a pirate ship with a rolling pin as the steering wheel and a cupcake on the black mast. I can’t not go inside now.
The place smells of sugar and coffee and chocolate. Heaven.
“Dakota Bell,” a woman says when I approach the counter. “It’s about time you showed up.”
“Um… How do you know my name?”
She rolls her eyes. “This is Smuggler’s Hideaway. Everyone knows everything.”
Gosh. I hope not. I don’t want to run away with my tail tucked between my legs when everyone realizes what a douchebag my dead husband was.
“I don’t know who you are.”
She grins. “Sassy. I like it. I’m Parker. Welcome to my bakery.”
“You’re a baker?” She nods. “Cool. I can’t bake. It’s not my fault, though. Mixers tend to go crazy when I’m in the vicinity.”
She giggles. “I’m happy to fulfill your baked good needs.” She motions to the display case. “Pick what you want. On the house.”
“I can pay.” I’m not destitute. Yet.
“It’s my welcome to Smuggler’s Hideaway present. Besides, once you’ve had one of my treats, you’ll come back.” She winks.
My nose wrinkles. “I probably shouldn’t. I don’t need any more curves than I already have. But I can’t resist a good cookie.”
She snatches a cookie from the display case. “This is a Blackbeard’s revenge cookie. You’ll love it.”
“Blackbeard’s revenge?”
“Everything on the island is mermaid or smuggler themed.”
I snort. “I know all about the mermaids.”
“Don’t worry. The mermaids only last for about six weeks of the summer during Mermaid Karaoke season.”
“Mermaid Karaoke season?”
“Yep. You should avoid the Bootlegger bar until the summer’s over.”
In my dreams I have time to barhop. “ Bootlegger? You weren’t kidding about the smuggler theme.”
“Nope.” She sets a plate with the cookie on the counter. “What kind of coffee do you want?”
“Anything with caffeine is my favorite.”
“Double espresso coming up.” She shoos me toward a table. “Go. Sit down. I’ll bring your coffee over.”
I settle at a spot in front of the window. I nibble on my cookie as I watch people pass by. I realize I’m tasting air and glance down at my shirt where half of my cookie has landed.
Parker hands me a napkin. “It happens to the best of us.”
“Except it happens to me all the time,” I mutter as I wipe away the crumbs. All I succeed in doing is creating a giant chocolate stain.
“What happened to you?” a woman asks as she sits across from me.
“A cookie attacked me.”
“Gotta hate when that happens.” She sips on my coffee and moans. “Mmm… Parker I’ll have one of these.”
I glide the mug across the table toward her. “You can have mine.”
“I’ll make you another one,” Parker says before walking away.
“Thanks.” The woman salutes me with the mug. “I needed this.”
Probably not as much as I did, I start to say, but stop myself. There’s no reason to be snarky to this stranger. I don’t know her. Maybe she does need the caffeine as much as I do.
“Why are you desperate for a caffeine hit?” I ask.
“My boss had me up most of the night.”
“Who’s your boss? Hold on. Who are you?”
“I’m Blossom. I was the newcomer before you.”
“I’m Dakota,” I say despite having a sneaking suspicion she already knows my name. “Does everyone know everyone’s business here?”
She shrugs. “Pretty much. You get used to it. Personally, I prefer it over going to the grocery store and not seeing one friendly face.”
“I know how you feel,” I mutter. Grocery shopping is not fun when everyone in the cereal aisle is glaring at you, or the women waiting to check out switch lanes to avoid you. It does make doing groceries much quicker, though.
“Here’s your coffee,” Parker says as she sets a steaming mug in front of me.
“Thank…” I trail off when I notice a furry head pop up from her pocket. “Do you have a puppy in your pocket?”
“You were supposed to stay hidden,” she tells the animal as she removes it from her pocket and cuddles it.
“That’s not a dog,” Blossom says.
“She’s an otter. Her name is Viking.”
“You named your girl otter Viking?” I ask.
“Technically, she’s not mine.”
“Are you otter-sitting? Is otter-sitting a thing? Where do I sign up?” I ask as I reach a hand out to pet Viking.
The little creature leans into my palm. “She’s adorable. Why isn’t she yours?”
“She’s the town mascot.”
“The town has a mascot? What does a live mascot do for a town? It can’t exactly throw the first pitch at a baseball game.”
Blossom giggles. “The mascots are strictly forbidden from attending sports events.”
“You’re serious?”
“I blame my boss.”
This is the second time she’s mentioned her boss. I’m officially intrigued. “Who’s your boss?”
“Paisley. She’s part-owner of the brewery in town, Five Fathoms .”
“And it’s her fault mascots are forbidden from attending sports events? I’m confused.”
Parker giggles. “Welcome to Smuggler’s Hideaway. Each town on the island has a mascot. Smuggler’s Rest has Viking here. Rogue’s Landing has Rogue, the raccoon. And Pirate’s Perch has Plank, the parrot. Each summer the inhabitants of the towns try to steal the mascot of another town.”
“Why? And how? Raccoons are mean.”
“It’s a long-standing tradition. Whoever manages to steal the mascot from another town has eternal bragging rights.” Parker rubs her nose against Viking’s. “But no one’s going to steal you, are they?”
“Shouldn’t you keep the location of the otter a secret if you don’t want anyone to steal it?”
She taps his nose. “Viking being here is supposed to be a secret, but the little rascal keeps stealing my cookies.”
“Don’t you have a cage for her?”
Parker’s lips purse. “Nobody puts Viking in the corner.”
I giggle. “I don’t think the saying refers to an otter who steals cookies.”
Blossom holds out her hands. “Can I hold her? She’s so cute.”
Parker places Viking in Blossom’s hands. But the little rascal doesn’t stay there. She jumps onto the table and goes for my plate. When she notices the plate is empty, she sniffs the air and her gaze lands on my t-shirt.
I lean away from the table but I’m not quick enough. Viking launches herself onto my lap before crawling under my shirt. She scurries up my shirt and peeks her head out of my collar.
I pet her. “You’re a troublemaker.” I kiss her nose. “The cutest troublemaker in the world.”
Parker moans. “Now, she’s going to think it’s okay to jump under people’s shirts.”
I hand her the otter. “Maybe you should reconsider the cage thing.”
A buzzer goes off in the kitchen. “Be right back.”
Once she’s out of hearing range, Blossom leans close and whispers, “I think we should steal Viking.”
“Steal Viking?”
“You heard Parker, we’d have bragging rights forever. I bet we’d get free drinks at Rumrunner. ”
“What’s Rumrunner? ”
“It’s a speakeasy. We’ll go there for our first girls’ night out.”
My eyes widen. “Our first girls’ night out?”
“Yep.” She grins. “I’ve decided we’re going to be best friends.”
“What if I already have a best friend?”
My best friend couldn’t dump me fast enough when she found out my husband had a thing for hookers and gambling, but I’m not telling Blossom my sad story. Sad stories are meant for late nights when you’ve had too many cosmos and forget to keep your mouth shut. Not for sunny days sitting at a pirate-themed bakery eating yummy treats and petting a cute otter.
“We’ll add her name to the guest list at Rumrunner. ”
“Guest list?”
“ Rumrunner is a speakeasy. If you’re not on the guest list, you have to solve a riddle.” Her nose wrinkles. “I hate riddles.”
“I rather enjoy riddles.”
“Fine. You can answer the riddle. I’ll be inside on my second glass of moonshine by the time you figure it out.”
“Moonshine?”
“The island’s famous for it.”
My brow wrinkles. “Is there anything this island isn’t famous for?”
She bursts into laughter. “You’re getting it.”
Warmth fills me. I didn’t understand half of what she said and I’m confused about the speakeasy and live mascots, but I don’t care. I made a friend today.
I only hope she’ll remain my friend when she figures out I don’t have money to spend on a girls’ night out.