Resisting Samantha (Hope Parish Novels Book 10) Read Online Free Page A

refrigerator
to pull out the rich chocolate layer cake with a raspberry base I had
baked yesterday for the Outlaw brunch. I stilled, and my insides
jolted. There was a piece missing.
    I straightened,
tightening my hands on the plate. That was strange. My employees knew
never to touch anything in this fridge. It was exclusively for
customers. Maybe someone got their fridges mixed up. Oh, damn, there
was nothing to do but cut it up and serve it.
    I turned away from
the fridge and almost dropped the cake. A stunning Black woman was
standing across the room. Her skin was a beautiful shade of cocoa,
her long black hair loose and flowing over her shoulders and down her
back. She was in a simple, floor-length blue dress with buttons on
the bodice and a long white apron tied around her waist.
    I frowned, my brain
trying to assimilate what I was seeing. Confused, I studied her
again. Had she wandered away from a Civil War reenactment or
something?
    “Can I help
you?” I said. “We’re not open just yet.” I
couldn’t imagine how she got inside. I was sure I’d
locked the front door.
    She said nothing,
just stared at me, waiting, watching, while a sense of evil pressed
in on me, thick and heavy in the air. As dense as bayou mist. As
suffocating as a blanket. I stepped back, gasping. It wasn’t
her, it was something…someone…else, as if the presence
was looming, coming closer. The plate fell from my slack hands,
smashing against the tiles, cake flying everywhere, spattering my
bare legs.
    The front door
slammed, and I jumped and looked toward the double doors. “Good
morning,” a female voice sang out.”
    Moments later the
door swung in, and Beth Henderson sauntered in with a smile on her
face. She stopped dead, shivering. “What’s with that
chilly patch of air there?” Her eyes widened and she gasped,
“Oh, God. What happened?”
    Beth acted like she
hadn’t seen the woman, but when I looked up from the ruined
cake, the woman was gone.
    I gave Beth a tight
smile. “Clumsy.”
    “That’s
too bad. I love your chocolate cake. Wait. Oh, my God, was that for
the Outlaw brunch?”
    “Yes,” I
rubbed at my temple. “Thank God I’ve got enough
ingredients to make crème brûlée.”
    “That should
work. I’ll explain to them about the cake when they arrive.”
She peered at me closely. “Are you all right?” Concern
washed across her face. “You look as white as a ghost.”
    I wondered if I was
losing my mind. First that terrible dream, and now seeing that
disappearing woman. Maybe Imogene’s was haunted after all. “I’m
fine. Just hate messes and not giving the customer what they
ordered.”
    Beth chuckled and
nodded. “For sure.” She looked down at the mess on the
floor. “Do you want me to clean this up?”
    “No, I made
it. I’ll clean it up.”
    “I’ll
start laying silverware and checking the tables, then. Sunday
mornings are always a crush.”
    “Thanks,
Beth,” I said. As she left, I looked down at the demolished
cake, splattered over more than just the floor, and sighed. Dammit. I
bent down to pick up the earthenware pieces. I loved this cake plate.
It was one of the treasures I picked up from Evie Sutton’s
shop, an antique navy blue transferware plate featuring a bird
sitting on a branch with bundles of grapes below. The border was a
white embossed lattice weave design trimmed in gold. Well, that would
give me an excuse to see what new stuff she had in stock. I set the
pieces down on the counter.
    My hand brushed
against something.
    I looked down.
    There was a small
bag lying near the shards of the cake plate. I hesitated and glanced
up to where the woman had been standing. Still gone. Then back down
at the bag. I reached out and touched the fabric. There was something
in it. It was made out of red chamois, gathered and tied with a
drawstring.
    With trembling
fingers, I pulled it open, releasing a strong balsamic-spicy,
lemony-evergreen scent I recognized as frankincense. Among