Jessica
To make a friend of anyone, simply go and bake a bun:
Butter, cream, sugar, and flour worked together for an hour
If mixed with yeast, then left to bake the heart of anyone will take.
Goody Fletcher, Book of Useful Household Tips
It was completely ridiculous of Dina to suggest that the reason my skin felt as if it were bursting into flame—in a good way—every time Derrick Winters touched me was because I liked him.
I know all about the love hormone oxytocin and how it works. I was there that day we learned about it in tenth-grade health class.
What was happening with Derrick was something else.
But I was fine with letting Dina think what she liked. All she’d ever wanted was for me to find the same kind of domestic bliss with someone that she had with Mark.
But how could I tell Dina that—especially after what had gone down with Billy—I wasn’t sure that’s what I wanted for myself?
Then again, I didn’t know what I wanted for myself.
But it certainly seemed like everyone else in town thought they knew what was best for me.
This became pretty obvious after Dina and Mark had left, and Derrick and I finally got to that shower (and what followed after, which was just as interesting as what had gone on between us last night). I was in my sewing room, finishing up some hems on a few gowns for the ball, when Derrick called up the stairs to me.
“Jess?”
He was already hard at work on the wireless home security system he’d run out to pick up from Home Depot. Not surprisingly, the man knew how to work a drill. I kept going downstairs on the pretense of getting more tea when really I was sneaking glimpses of him. I was going to be so overcaffeinated by the time I showed up at the shop, my customers were going to be afraid. And so were Gabby and Esther. The two of them had already texted that they wanted to come by after online school.
Gabby: I can pick out a dress and also start training to work there! And you can start mentoring Esther!
I texted back:
Great. See you both this afternoon.
Wait until Esther found out what I really intended to mentor her in.
I trotted down the stairs to see what Derrick wanted. I pretended like I didn’t notice how good his arms looked in his short-sleeved T as he held my drill.
“A woman just pulled up in front of your house.” Derrick was peering suspiciously out the window he was attaching sensors to. “Do you know her?”
I followed the direction of his gaze. Despite the gloomy start to the morning, it had turned into a beautiful fall day, the sky a cloudless blue against which the autumn leaves were blazing red and gold. A flock of birds, a little late in heading south for the winter, formed a perfect V in the distance.
But the second I saw who was getting out of the cherry-red Mercedes coupe in front of my house, it felt like the sky had turned dark.
“Oh, no.” I ducked behind my curtains.
“Who is it?” Derrick didn’t duck. He just stood there in the window, staring at the woman who was flouncing down my front walk, her perfectly straight blond hair flowing gently in the breeze. “Is she from your homeowners association, or something? Did I need to get a permit from them first before installing these cameras?”
“How can you not know who that is?” I reached out to pull him behind the curtains with me. “It’s Rosalie Hopkins. She practically runs the WCW!”
“Oh.” He looked blank-faced for a second, then said calmly, “I’ve never met her.”
“Yeah, well, lucky you. What do we do? Do we let her in?”
“Of course we let her in. Why not? We’re not doing anything wrong.” He raised his eyebrows at me meaningfully. “Right now, anyway.”
“Funny. Very funny.” Although it was sort of funny. Rosalie, in her stylish ensemble of puffy vest, slouchy camel sweater, riding jodhpurs, and boots, did look a little like she was striding down my front lane to either lodge a complaint or welcome me to the neighborhood. There was a determined expression on her face, and a cellophane-wrapped basket of what looked like muffins in her hands. “Billy must have told her about you. What are we going to—?”
But it was too late. Rosalie’s knock was brisk. “Hello, Jess?” she called. “Hi, it’s me, Rosalie.”
“Coming,” I called. There was no point in pretending I wasn’t home. I was sure Rosalie had seen me through the window. Besides, she, like Billy from the day before, would have heard us talking through the door.
“Well, hello, Rosalie,” I said, giving her my biggest, fakest smile as I swung open the front door. “What a surprise. How are you?”
“Well, I’m just great, Jess! It’s good to see you looking so . . . well.” On the word well, Rosalie’s gaze strayed to Derrick, standing behind me with his drill, and stayed there.
“Thanks so much,” I gushed. “Won’t you come in? Rosalie, this is Derrick.” I didn’t bother telling Rosalie Derrick’s last name. I knew she’d have already learned it from Billy. “Derrick, this is my old friend from high school, Rosalie. Derrick’s visiting for a few days from the city, Rosalie.”
“Oh, how lovely.” Rosalie was quick to take in everything, from the tool in Derrick’s hand to his tattoo to his motorcycle boots. “It’s always nice to get out of the city this time of year, isn’t it?”
“It is,” Derrick said, casually swinging an arm around my shoulders. “The weather’s been just beautiful. Except for a little hail yesterday, right, sweetheart?”
“Oh, right, yeah, the hail.” Why did the way he said sweetheart make my heart stutter, even though we were in a fake relationship? Well, fake-ish. “The hail wasn’t so great.”
“Oh, that hail.” Rosalie shook her head as she swung her basket of muffins onto my coffee table, the autumn-colored cellophane crinkling like crazy. “Wasn’t that nuts? Bill told me what happened to your car, Jess. Such a shame. You know he’s had it towed over to Hopkins, and they’re doing everything they can to get the dents out. And of course if you need a loaner until it’s fixed, well, you only need to ask.”
Wait. What was happening? Rosalie was actually being . . . nice?
“Um,” I said, confused. “Thanks.”
“And, here, Jessica, I brought this for you.” She pointed at the basket. “My world-famous pumpkin spice muffins with streusel topping. Ha ha, I say world-famous, but really it’s only my kids and Bill who love them. I hope you will, too, though.”
“Gee, thanks, Rosalie.” I looked through the orange-and-red cellophane into the basket. There really were a ton of muffins inside, each with a piece of raffia tied in a bow around it, along with a gift card with a gold rose on the front—Rosalie’s longtime chosen personal insignia. “How thoughtful of you. You really didn’t have to.”
She batted her faux mink lashes. “But I wanted to. I just felt so bad for you. I know how much you loved that car. You’ve had it forever. Still, maybe this is a blessing in disguise. Maybe now is the time to test-drive something new. It’s always good to try new things, isn’t it?”
When she said “try new things,” she glanced over at Derrick.
So that’s what this was about: a peace offering because she thought I’d finally moved on from her husband. Like I hadn’t moved on from Billy more than a decade ago.
But it turned out that wasn’t all she was talking about.
“I heard you’re a Reach for the Sky mentor for one of my Harvest Princess candidates.” Her smile was bright. “Gabriella Aquino?”
“Uh.” Rosalie had gotten her information wrong, but that was no surprise in a town as small as West Harbor. Gossip here flew as fast as birds, and was about as reliable.
But I saw the quick warning glance Derrick sent me, and so I didn’t correct her. Besides, I was curious myself to see where this was going.
“I did sign up to be a mentor,” I admitted. “But I haven’t really had much time to—”
“Gabby’s such a darling,” Rosalie purred. “We all just love her to death.”
“Yes,” I said. “Gabby is great.”
“So I wanted to make sure to extend an invitation to you to come to the selection ceremony tomorrow night. It’s at the Yacht Club. I really think you’ll enjoy it. We’re trying to make it very special for the girls. It’s a shame they can’t all be princesses, but we just don’t have enough scholarship money to go around.”
“Sure,” I said, instead of what I wanted to, which was, You are so full of crap. “That’s understandable. I’ll try to make it.”
“Oh, that would be so great. It would mean so much to Gabby, I know. And will you be staying through the weekend, Derrick? It’s going to be very special this year. We’re going to have a ball in the village square to celebrate West Harbor’s Tricentennial.”
“That’s what I’ve heard.” Derrick had made no move to remove his arm. “I’m staying . . . and looking forward to it.”
Rosalie looked as delighted as if Derrick had said he was going to back a truckload of garbage onto her lawn and dump it there.
“How great!” Her smile wasn’t reaching her eyes now. “It’s going to be such an important night for our town’s history. Not many towns can boast that they’ve been around as long as we have. That’s why it’s so important we celebrate it. Speaking of which—” Rosalie reached into her Gucci handbag and took out an envelope that she handed to me. “I happen to have two extra tickets to the ball on Thursday. I noticed you hadn’t signed up yet, and I thought, well, there has to be some kind of mix-up, because I can’t imagine this event without Jessica Gold!”
I looked down at the envelope, which had my name written across it in fancy calligraphy. There hadn’t been a mix-up. I hadn’t purchased a ticket to the ball for myself—though I’d purchased them for all my employees and their significant others. They deserved to go, if they wanted to, after all the hard work they’d put in at the Fall into Fall sale, and the work they were going to do the next day, giving candy to trick-or-treaters outside the shop. I myself had been intending to do what I did every night during Halloween season in order to protect my mental health: go straight home after work, turn out all my lights, get in bed with Pye and some takeout, and watch the Food Network.
Or at least, that had been my plan before Derrick Winters had shown up.
“Gosh,” I said. “Thanks so much, Rosalie.”
“Oh, it’s my pleasure.” She beamed at me—but mostly, I couldn’t help noticing, at Derrick. “Well, Jess, I know you’re busy, so I won’t hold you up a second longer. I really only wanted to stop by to introduce myself to your new beau, and to let you know that Bill is doing everything he can to repair your car—and of course to make sure the two of you got those tickets, and invite you to our selection tomorrow night!”
“Thanks again. We’ll try to be there.” I hoped she hadn’t developed the ability to read minds in the years since high school.
She hadn’t—at least if her smile was any indication. “Great.” She shouldered her bag and waved at us. “Well, bye for now!”
And then she hurried off, as suddenly as she’d breezed in.
“What was that?” I turned to ask Derrick as soon as she was in her car and out of earshot.
“I don’t know.” He was looking after her, too, lost in thought. “I take it she’s not always that friendly?”
“No, I told you, she hates my guts. She’s the witch who destroyed my car, remember?”
“Yeah.” He looked after her for a moment longer, then shrugged and turned back to my window. “Maybe she’s changed. People do, you know.”
I stared at him. “In twenty-four hours?” I held up the envelope. “Why is she so anxious for me to go to her selection thingie? And for us to go to the ball? And why did she keep giving you the side-eye?”
“Well.” Grinning, he lifted the drill and gave the trigger a press. Zing! “I’ve been told I am pretty good with power tools.”
I didn’t smile back at him. “You do realize she’s probably what’s causing the rift in West Harbor, right? Rosalie Hopkins looks beautiful, but her intentions aren’t. I’m willing to bet my shop that she knows what we’re doing, and the live entertainment at the pre-ball dinner is going to be the sacrificing of the virginal Harvest Princesses, just like Esther said.”
He stopped grinning. “I think you’ve had a bit too much of that tea.”
“Really? You don’t think I was chosen because I can tell when evil is walking around right under our noses?”
Derrick shook his head. “That’s not actually how—”
“I’m telling you, that was the evil, right there.” I pointed in the direction Rosalie had driven. “Forget stupid wolves. The evil is Rosalie Hopkins. She’s up to something and she wants us to go to the ball on Thursday night to keep us out of the way while she does it, which is why she gave us these.” I waved the envelope with the tickets. “So what are we going to do about it?”
He took the envelope from me, slid it into the back pocket of his jeans, then took my hand and pulled me close. Instantly, I felt soothed—but also a little turned on. “We’re going to carry on with our plan,” he said. The rumble of his voice inside his chest felt reassuring against me. “You’re going to train Esther, and I’m going to protect you both. I do think, however, that it would be a grave mistake to eat any of those muffins.”
I couldn’t help letting out a snort of laughter. “Agreed.”