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  BURNED TO A CRISP

  by

  CATHERINE BRUNS

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  Copyright © 2016 by Catherine Bruns

  Cover design by Yocla Designs

  Gemma Halliday Publishing

  http://www.gemmahallidaypublishing.com

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  First and foremost, I must thank Joseph Francis Collins, Paramedic/Firefighter, whose help with this book was immeasurable. Any errors or omissions are entirely my own. Retired Troy Police Captain Terrance Buchanan always has the answers I need, and special props go to attorney Lisa Proskin for assisting me with all the legal jargon. Constance Atwater, Krista Gardner, and Kathy Kennedy are the best beta readers in the world, and I'm so lucky to have you! Profound thanks for the mouth-watering recipes to Stephanie Nicole Schwenke, Amy Reger, Karen Clickner-Douttiel, and Paula Shappy. To my wonderfully patient husband, Frank, who has the difficult task of living with me. Last but not least, thank you to publisher Gemma Halliday and her amazing staff. It's truly an honor to be a part of your publishing company.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  I sat down on the front steps of my cookie shop, Sally's Samples, and took a rare moment to enjoy the warm June sunshine on my face. The sky was a perfect blue, with nary a cloud to be seen. A gentle breeze flapped around my apron and my curly, shoulder-length, black hair. I kicked off my sneakers and wiggled my toes, enjoying the feel of the overgrown blades of grass between them. Content, I closed my eyes and leaned back, thinking about my life.

  In a few weeks I would be Mrs. Michael Donovan. Heat flooded my cheeks, but not as a result of the shimmering sun above. I'd loved this man for so many years, even though we'd spent most of them apart—the result of misunderstandings and a lack of trust that stemmed from when we were teenage sweethearts.

  "See before you jump," my wise Grandma Rosa had instructed me. That was her distinct way of saying, "Look before you leap." How I wished I'd listened to her back then.

  It had taken ten years, but Mike and I had finally found our way back to each other. Now nothing and no one would stand in the way of our life together.

  "Why you daydream?" A sharp elderly voice pierced my eardrum. "You gotta get me more fortune cookies."

  As recognition set in, I winced and opened my eyes. I'd know that voice anywhere. Nicoletta Gavelli made her way up the steps of the porch and thrust a stubby finger in my face. She was dressed in her usual black housecoat and Birkenstock shoes, gray hair pulled back from her stern face in a severe bun.

  "Hi, Mrs. G. Josie's inside. Go on in, and tell her what you'd like."

  She frowned, the lines in her leathery-looking face deepening further, and shook her head. "You wait on me. Josie—she no have respect for her elders. And you ain't so hot either, missy."

  I managed to contain my smile as I followed her into the shop. Mrs. Gavelli had been my parent's next-door neighbor since I was a baby. She took immense pride and pleasure in insulting me whenever she could, but I had recently learned that it was her unique way of expressing affection. Since there was never any winning with Mrs. G, I'd learned to just shut up and take it.

  Josie Sullivan, my best friend and partner, was an entirely different matter, though. She had no qualms about telling anyone what she thought of them. Sometimes she was a little too outspoken. I tried to keep her calm, but that was often a full-time job in itself.

  She was in the back room, our kitchen and prep area, removing a tray of mocha cookies from the oven. My mouth watered from the smell. She peered out the doorway, having heard the bells jingle, and I watched as her expression changed from content to sour in a split second. She tossed the oven mitts aside and came toward us.

  "Well, look who's here." Josie's blue eyes regarded Mrs. Gavelli with irritation. "My favorite customer."

  Mrs. Gavelli pointed at me. "Sally wait on me. Not you. She lesser of two evils."

  Josie's face turned as red as her hair. "Stop bothering Sal. She shouldn't even be here." She placed her hands on her hips and stared at me. "Speaking of which, why are you still here? The engagement party starts in an hour. And where's Mike?"

  "He'll be here soon. He just started a new job today." My fiancé owned a one-man construction company, although at times he did hire people to assist him. "There really isn't anything for me to do, except show up. Mom's taken care of everything."

  Mrs. Gavelli sniffed as she spread her hands all over the front of the bakery case like an eager child. "Engagement party. Big wedding. Is not right. You already married once, and that not end good. Shameful. I hope you not gonna wear white."

  The old woman was the proverbial thorn amongst my roses. Defeated, I decided to change the subject. "Who are you bringing tonight? Is it Mr. Feathers?"

  Mrs. Gavelli gave me a saucy grin. "Is big surprise. You find out soon."

  Great. I hated surprises.

  Josie pointed out the window. "The grass is loaded with dandelions. Who gets the honor of mowing the lawn tomorrow? I had Rob fill the gas can earlier, so it's out in the shed, waiting for its next victim."

  "Mike did it last time. Think I can talk him into it again?"

  Josie grinned. "I believe you have that power of persuasion. The lock on the shed is broken too."

  "I know it is. I'll have Mike look at that as well." It wasn't the way I wanted to spend Sunday, our only day of the week off, but when you owned a business—or two, in our case—things frequently came up.

  Our employee, Sarah, appeared from the back room with a tray of fortune cookies for the display case. She caught sight of Mrs. Gavelli, instantly paled, and closed her mouth. Mrs. G had that effect on many people.

  "Aha!" Mrs. Gavelli's eyes resembled round jewels as she caught sight of the fortune cookies in Sarah's hands. Without even bothering to ask, she removed a cookie from the tray. Sarah made no effort to stop her, frozen in place with a deer-in-the-headlights look. "I choose my own. That way I no get bad fortune."

  Josie pressed her lips together angrily. "You don't grab food off the trays in a bakery without gloves, old lady. Don't ever do that again."

  "Who you call 'old lady'?" Mrs. Gavelli started toward Josie in a fury.

  I was quick to jump between the two of them. "Okay, both of you knock it off. Mrs. G, was there anything else you wanted?"

  She stared at me in annoyance. "Where you go for honeymoon?"

  Man, she was nosy. "We haven't decided yet."

  Mrs. Gavelli let out a long harrumph. "Every day a honeymoon for you two. I see the way you carry on. You will be pregnant on wedding night. I know these things."

  I didn't say anything but hoped for once
that her premonitions were right. More than anything, Mike and I both longed for a large family. My ex-husband, Colin, never wanted children and had been up-front about his feelings from the beginning. I had foolishly believed I could get him to change his mind over time.

  Josie had four boys, all age ten and under. The baby was a year old and had just begun to walk. Even though she had started her family much sooner than she'd planned—right out of high school—and they'd gone through some tough times financially, I envied her lifestyle. Had it not been for my father and his old country morals, I might have tried to tempt fate before the wedding. Heck, Mike was all for it.

  Mrs. Gavelli glanced at her message and gasped. "Stay home and order take-out tonight." She flung the paper onto my blue and white checkered, vinyl floor. "I tell you get new fortunes. Why you no listen?"

  Josie's mouth curved upward into a sly smile. "You're lucky I didn't poison the cookies. I was feeling extra nice today."

  Mrs. Gavelli started to say something, but we were interrupted by the bells jingling on the front door. A man slightly older than me walked in, and the old woman gave me an arrogant smile as she pointed at him. "Here your surprise. Is early wedding present."

  My mouth fell open in shock. "Holy cow. Johnny, when did you get into town? My grandmother never said a word."

  Johnny Gavelli extended his arms and captured me in a tight hug, literally lifting me off the floor in the process. "Hey, Sal, how's my girl?"

  Mrs. Gavelli's grandson had grown from a buck-toothed little boy with nerdy glasses into a dark-haired dreamboat of a man. He had classic, good Italian looks, complete with black, lazy eyes that had laughed at me for as long as I could remember. He was about Mike's height, six feet tall, with a lean, taut body and eyelashes so long I practically drooled with envy.

  He grinned at me mischievously. "I got in last night. Had to see my best girl." He put an arm around Mrs. Gavelli's shoulders, and her face glowed from the attention. "Then Gram invited me to your party. I can't believe my very first conquest is getting married."

  My cheeks were on fire. "Johnny, we never did anything, and you know that."

  He winked. "Oh, but those times in the garage with you were priceless. Too bad Gram caught us before we could proceed any further. That underwear you used to wear, printed with the days of the week, was quite a turn-on."

  Josie shook her head. "Still the same old pig, Johnny."

  Mrs. Gavelli smacked him lightly across the cheek. "Is enough. You stop nasty talk." Then she grabbed his face tightly between her hands and smiled. "He something, no?"

  He certainly was. Still, I was happy to see him and delighted he'd be accompanying Mrs. Gavelli to my engagement party.

  Once a perverted little boy who'd coerced me into playing doctor with him in his dark garage when I was six and he eight, Johnny had grown up into a respected college professor at Southern Vermont College. Who would have thought?

  Johnny's mother, Sophia, Mrs. Gavelli's only daughter, had died of a drug overdose when he was five. He'd never known his father. I had been told by my grandmother that I resembled Sophia, a possible reason for the old lady's somewhat shabby treatment toward me. Mrs. Gavelli had raised her grandson without assistance from anyone, and I was the first to admit she'd done a wonderful job.

  Johnny pointed toward the ceiling. "Is Gianna upstairs? I haven't seen her in ages."

  My sister lived in the apartment over my bakery. "No, she's going to the party straight from work."

  The bells chimed again, and my heart took a leap when my fiancé walked in. Mike stopped for a brief moment to wipe his work boots on the mat inside my door, nodding to the Gavellis and Josie before his eyes found mine.

  "Is my bride-to-be ready to go yet?"

  "Aw," Josie and Sarah said in unison.

  Mrs. Gavelli snorted. "You is all dirty. Why you roll around in mud?"

  "He's been working on a roof, Mrs. G," I explained. Tar dotted the front of Mike's gray T-shirt, and there was a large gaping hole in the knee of his jeans. He smelled of the turpentine he'd used to wash his hands, but I caught the faint scent of the spicy cologne he wore mixed in. His dark hair curled over the nape of his neck, and as always, he sported a five o'clock shadow and needed a shave. His midnight blue eyes sparkled as they gazed at me. Ever since the first time I'd looked into those eyes at the tender age of sixteen, I'd been hooked.

  He might have been a bit dirty but was still sexy as all get-out, and every ounce of him was mine.

  Mrs. Gavelli reached again for the tray of fortune cookies, and Josie slapped her hand away. One fell onto the floor.

  Josie glared at the woman. "I told you, no touching the merchandise."

  Mike reached down to pick up the smashed cookie, which lay at his feet. He read the message, and a strange expression crossed his face. "Hmm. Interesting."

  "What does it say?" I asked, not positive I really wanted to know. The fortune cookies in my shop seemed to carry a weird kind of aura. Patrons received a free one whenever they bought a cookie from the bakery. The predictions usually came true in some shape or form. To be honest, I wasn't sure I wanted to carry them any longer but knew my customers—Mrs. Gavelli in particular—would be outraged if we discontinued making them.

  Mike smiled as he read aloud. "All things are difficult before they are easy."

  Mrs. Gavelli grunted. "You see. He get bad fortune too."

  Mike laughed and put his arm around me. "I don't think it's bad. It just means that we've been through our rough patch, and now's the time to enjoy ourselves." He kissed the top of my head. "Don't you agree, princess?"

  "Sure," I said with uncertainty.

  Josie gave me her I told you so look. She knew how I felt about the cookies. From the beginning, she'd never been completely on board with the idea, but I had insisted the bakery had to have a theme. "A waste of time and money" is what she called them.

  "Those silly messages don't mean anything," she said.

  Johnny stepped forward. "Hey, Mike. Remember me? I was Sal's first."

  "Oh, you." I gave him a shove to the shoulder. "He's still the same egotistical eight-year-old who promised me an ice cream cone if I followed him into the garage."

  Mike suppressed a smile as he shook Johnny's hand. "I thought it was you. Long time no see. Bet you're teaching those kids a lot in sex ed class, huh?"

  Mrs. Gavelli shot my fiancé a dirty look. "We go now. Make sure we have good table tonight. And you no put me next to bathroom."

  With that, she pushed the glass door open with a vengeance, and the welcoming sound of the bells drifted through the warm air. We all seemed to sigh in relief at her departure.

  Sarah started to place the fortune cookies in the display case as she watched Mrs. Gavelli and Johnny cross the street together. She was in her late thirties with dishwater blonde hair and thoughtful brown eyes that lingered on their retreating figures. "That woman scares me."

  Josie grunted as she took the tray from Sarah's hands. "Ah, Mrs. G is all talk and no action. It does my heart good to piss her off every now and then."

  "You are so bad," I laughed.

  Josie pointed toward the front door. "You two need to get out of here. I'll see you at the restaurant. Sarah, you're okay to close, right?"

  Sarah nodded. "Oh, sure. No problem." She smiled at Mike and me, but I glimpsed sadness in her eyes.

  Mike's phone buzzed, and he checked the screen. "I've got to take this. One of my customers. I'll be out in the truck waiting for you, babe."

  I went into the back room to grab my purse. When I returned to the storefront, Sarah startled me as she pulled me into a tight hug. "I just wanted to tell you how happy I am for you. Mike seems like a great guy. You're very lucky."

  "Thank you. I know I am." Sarah was usually so quiet and reserved. Half the time I didn't even know she was around. She'd started working for us this past January, and we'd been very happy with her performance. Sarah was also a single mother and had an eight-year-old d
aughter who was the center of her world.

  A tear leaked out of her eye. "I hope you guys have a long and happy life together. And that he truly deserves you."

  I exchanged glances with Josie. Where was this coming from? "Is something wrong, Sarah?"

  "I'm sorry," she stammered. "I didn't mean to imply anything. I've never had much luck with the opposite sex, so I have a tendency to be a bit negative about love and marriage."

  Josie folded her arms across her chest and raised one eyebrow at me. Sarah had never mentioned if she was dating anyone, so I assumed the topic was off-limits. Her daughter, Julie, had already captured a special place in my heart. Even though I assumed it must be tough for Sarah to make ends meet, I envied her for having that little girl.

  "What about Julie's father? Does he help out at all?" I asked.

  "Not as much as he should." Sarah wiped her eyes. "I don't mean to feel sorry for myself because I wouldn't trade Julie for the world. Some days I just need a break, you know?"

  My heart went out to her, and I placed an arm around her shoulders. "I'm so sorry. I wish you'd said something before." Julie had been in my shop on numerous occasions and was another one who loved the fortune cookies.

  Sarah shrugged. "I didn't want you to think I was a problem employee."

  A thought occurred to me. "Maybe I could take her overnight next weekend and give you some free time? I'd love to have her. We could go out for pizza and then watch movies together. It would be so much fun."

  Josie looked at me like I was nuts but said nothing.

  Sarah smiled. "That's so sweet of you, Sally. I'm sure she'd love it."

  Josie pointed toward the door and gave me a look that said Go—I've got this. She put an arm around Sarah's thin shoulders. I felt terrible. My life was overflowing with happiness while this poor woman had almost none. Maybe if I gave her another raise that would help.