Page 3 of Banter & Blushes #1

Her smile slips. “Let’s grab a cup and chat.

Kelsey can handle the front for a few minutes.

” Zoe fills a plate with some sugar-free blueberry muffins, then pours two cups of her special beach blend coffee and motions for me to follow her to the break room in back.

We sit at a tiny café table shoe-horned in the corner.

“Okay, spill. Why the gloom and doom expression?”

Over the last two years, my friend has had to talk me off the ledge several times, so she knows the drill. A sigh escapes. “My store is just breaking even. I’m a horrible matchmaker. And Harmony is going to set us up for another catering gig.” All my worries tumble out at once.

She winces. “Another Harmony catering gig? Why and when?”

Fiddling with the rim of my coffee mug, I say, “You remember those rumors about Hugo Sears selling his beachfront property?”

Zoe nods.

“The real estate agent handling the sale stopped by my store this afternoon.”

“And?”

“He’s very attractive?—”

My friend squeals, cutting me off mid-sentence. “And the catering gig offers you the opportunity to see him again? Let’s do it!”

I wince at her enthusiasm. “Have you already forgotten what happened when we catered that coffee meeting for the mayor’s re-election campaign?”

“That was just bad luck. You didn’t see the bumblebee until it was too late.”

I arch an eyebrow at my friend’s ability to make excuses for my inept serving skills.

“Spilling that serving platter full of pastries on Mayor Cumberland’s bald head sure didn’t help his chance for re-election,” I scoff.

Yes, the bumblebee startled me, but I should have acted like a normal person and set the tray down.

Instead, I tried to fend off the bee while holding the platter.

“You’ve got to admit, that dance you did with the tray was hilarious.” Her eyes crinkle at the corners and she giggles. “Honestly Luna, it was the mayor’s own fault. If he hadn’t also tried to shoo the bee away, he wouldn’t have knocked the tray out of your hand.”

“I shouldn’t have been holding a serving platter loaded with gooey sweets over his head.”

The giggles continue and a few tears leak from her eyes.

After a few seconds, I can’t help but join in as I remember vividly the mad scramble by the mayor’s re-election team to kill the bumblebee.

Someone dashed out with a fly swatter, and another produced a can of bug spray.

The bee calmly flew out the window, unscathed.

After, the mayor’s wife rushed in with a towel and a bucket and cleaned him up, except for a smear of chocolate icing hanging off his left ear.

All my eyes could stare at was the dangling icing as he delivered his speech, the frosting blob defying gravity with every bob of his bald head.

Afterwards, I learned that some attendees had created a betting pool on the icing and how long it would cling.

The city services department manager won a hundred bucks.

“We’ll make sure all the windows are closed this time,” Zoe rasps after our laughing fit subsides.

I turn worried eyes towards my friend. “The attendees are going to be highfalutin bigshots. Don’t get me wrong, your pastries are scrumptious. But can you make fancy enough pastries for that crowd?”

She taps her chin, lost in thought. “I’d love to try. This will give me an opportunity to try all those French pastry recipes the General keeps sending me.”

I roll my eyes. The General is always meddling in my business too.

Last week he suggested I stock creations from a new local artisan—greeting cards made from recycled cardboard and Christmas ornaments made from plastic milk jugs.

Even though I was drawn to their use of recycled materials, the results, unfortunately, were not attractive.

Winston Monroe (aka the General) is a family friend from back home.

He backed Zoe and I financially when we wanted to try becoming entrepreneurs.

Zoe’s baking skills made her choice of business obvious.

On the other hand, working as a Zamboni driver, a voice-over artist, and an escape room attendant didn’t exactly prepare me for opening a business in a tiny quaint beach community.

Being an avid reader and dabbling in matchmaking eventually inspired me to open Plot Twists & Perfect Matches.

The General was very encouraging, specifically about the matchmaking side of the business. However, in the twelve months I’ve been in business, I’ve only matched seven couples successfully.

With my lean bank account, maybe I need to expand my options. Working for Zoe on these catering gigs does bring in much needed money. “Okay, if you’re game, I’m game! I’ll confirm with Harmony that we’ll cater the hoity-toity coffee meeting for Hugo.”

We exchange high fives.

“Maybe you’ll hit it off with Mr. Bainbridge as well!”

Wouldn’t that just be the icing on the cake? Sadly, it’s more likely that I’ll spill icing on the hunky man and never see him again.