The Baker's Touch Read Online Free Page B

concentrated on the modeling chocolate she manipulated. It was supposed to be petals for roses, but the candy was too dry and the flowers kept breaking. She bit back a curse when yet another crumbled in her hand. There had to be a way to salvage this batch of candy. The timer hummed then buzzed. Thankful for the distraction, she set her work aside and grabbed a set of oven mitts. Shrill chiming split the air. The dang phone hadn’t stopped ringing either.
    “Hot swinging,” she hollered to no one in particular. The last thing she wanted to do was burn one of her workers. The oven door slammed shut and she carefully made her way to the cooling rack and set down the tray of cakes.
    “Penelope. Phone.”
    “I’ll take it in my office.” She tossed the mitts on the rack and headed for the swinging doors ten steps away. She could use a break from her task.
    It was much cooler back here, a welcome respite from the heat of the kitchen. Her footsteps echoed on the flat concrete. She fumbled with the doorknob on the second door on her left, walked in and kicked it closed.
    “Hello.” The greeting came out a bit breathless.
    “Hey… Am I catching you at a bad time?”
    A smile curved her lips at the sound of her best friend’s voice. “No, I was just pulling something out of the oven. What’s up?”
    “I just wanted to hear a friendly voice.”
    “Why? What happened? You did it, didn’t you?”
    “Did what?”
    “The nasty with that detective.”
    “I did not!” Moira screeched.
    Penelope chuckled. Her friend had been playing hard to get with a homicide detective, but hadn’t done more than kiss the man. “Maybe not, but you want to.”
    “This is not why I called you.”
    “Okay. So what else is happening?”
    “Somebody took pot shots at me.”
    Penelope tensed. She knew her friend’s work was sometimes dangerous, but to hear her casual statement of “pot shots” left her a little annoyed. “As in shooting at you with a gun?”
    “Yeah.”
    “You know, you and Violet will be the death of me one day as I sit here in my little bakery and succumb to a heart attack because my best friends are stupid!” Penelope yelled the last part. “I swear you do this for fun. You couldn’t find a nice safe job somewhere. Not that that worked well for Violet. What do you two do, take out ads at Villains-R-Us with eight by ten glossies of yourselves? And asking, no, begging you to be careful is just... Are you even listening to me?” She huffed. “Do I need to come down there and—” A knock interrupted her tirade.
    “What?” she called, holding the phone away from her mouth.
    “There’s a delivery here and Avery’s dealing with the door guy,” a feminine voice called.
    “I’ll be right there.” Penelope returned to the phone. “Moira?” She listened to the background noises on the other end. Papers rustled and a muttered curse. “Moira!”
    “Yeah. What.”
    Penelope rolled her eyes. “Would you stay out of trouble and not get shot at?”
    “There’s no fun in that. So tell me, how is Avery?”
    That was a good question. She twirled the curly cord around her finger as she leaned back in her chair.
    “Pens?”
    “He’s fine.”
    More rattling and shuffling carried through the earpiece. What was Moira doing?
    “Ya know, Pens, I’ve only talked to Avery on the phone when I’m looking for you, but I think I like your assistant more than I like the guy you were dating. But, hey, that’s just my observation.”
    A loud snap startled her. “What was that?”
    “What was what?” Moira asked.
    “That sound.”
    Hesitation. “Oh, nothing. I have to go, but I’ll call you later.”
    “You better.” Penelope dropped the phone in its cradle, then rubbed her temples. She knew her BFF was up to something, but she’d have to wait for a phone call. She was tempted to call Violet just to see what she had going on.
    She grasped the watch on her wrist. Darn, the thing wasn’t working again. It was