Page 12

“He would fit in back in DC with that move. Not that I want him there.” I rushed to add that last part. “He should stay here, taking people out for drinks or whatever he does.”

“He thrives on power. Craves the attention and wants to be right in the middle of the action so he can take credit for it.” That was more than Celia usually said about Harlan. For the most part, she tried not to talk about him at all. “It’s all an illusion.”

“He’s not good at his job?” That sounded like cosmic justice.

“Oh, he is.” Celia’s smile came and went. “He’s also a very limited man who thinks he’s a great man.”

That matched how I viewed him. “So, delusional.”

“He’s tried to convince me more than once that he’s misunderstood.” Celia rolled her eyes as she said the words. “He’s also explained why he was a saint for staying with Savannah as long as he did.Other men would have left because no man signs up to play nursemaid to a sick wife.” Celia mimicked Harlan’s speaking style. “And that’s probably all I need to say on that.”

Celia and Harlan had a longtime prickly relationship. He was the guy who cheated on her baby sister then counted down the minutes until she died so he could move on. “Isn’t it tough to be near him without kicking him?”

“Of course.” Celia sighed. “I keep the peace with Harlan because it’s easier for Jackson.”

Harlan didn’t strike me as a man who would be supportive of Celia and her relationship with Gram. That was my biggestproblem with him, but I picked an easier topic. “Isn’t Jackson a little old to worry about what his daddy thinks?”

Celia hummed, as if contemplating the question, which meant she was about to make a point that would defeat my argument. “Are you too old to worry about what Mags thinks?”

Yep. Just as expected. Score one for Celia. “No.”

She shrugged. “There you go.”

After handing me a spatula covered in leftover cupcake batter, she headed for the sink. I could smell the sugary vanilla goodness and thought about sticking the whole thing in my mouth but held off. For now.

I leaned against the sink, facing her. “Are you sure everything is okay?”

Her focus stayed on washing the bowl. “In what way?”

More roadblocks. “You and Gram sounded unenthusiastic when I asked you about helping out around here. Now I wander in here looking to lick a mixing bowl or two and find Harlan lurking around.”

“Visiting, not lurking.”

“I prefer my description.”

Celia set down the bowl and wiped her hands on the nearest towel. “He does throw business our way.”

All I could do was snort. And lick the spatula. From my experience, Harlan operated on a quid pro quo basis. He likely stepped in here so Celia and Gram would owe him something.

“Let’s just say there’s a game I need to play to keep Harlan happy. I’m willing to play it because the returns are worth it. After a meeting with him I shut him out and return to the business and to my life with Mags.”

I loved hearing that. Loved how her face lit up when shetalked about Gram even after all the years together. But I was here for another reason. Icing leftovers, sure, but the image of that locked cabinet wouldn’t leave my head.

“Back to my question about being okay. The reason I asked is because things seem a little weird around here.”

Celia stiffened. “How so?”

“Unless there’s a sprinkles thief on the loose I don’t know why you’re keeping them locked up in the pantry.”

“Ah, yes. We have equipment and supplies spread over the pantry, kitchen, and annex. We’re trying to rearrange and organize.” She waved her hand in the air. “Things are getting moved around.”

Did that answer my question? “And the lock?”

Celia hesitated. “We had some spices and things that might have expired. We put them in there until we had time to check.”

Huh. She acted like it took a long time to look at a date and throw something in the trash. No, not buying it.

“I could help—”