Page 20 of These Shoes Weren't Made for Stalking

“Sweet heaven!Thirty thousand?” Penny’s warm brown eyes clouded with worry. The scent of cotton candy and citrus turnedslightly sour. “Did Rosie mention what’s causing her financial troubles?”

“No, nothing.” I pushed my half-eaten scone aside. “But something about it doesn’t sit right with me.”

Penny leaned forward. “You don’t think she’d actually...”

“No,” I cut in, shaking my head. I paused to drum my fingers against the table. “Jake acted strange when we spoke before the Town Hall meeting. And now, he’s disappeared without a trace...”

Penny shook his head. “Jake couldn’t vandalize a sandcastle. What about Minnie? That woman’s got more ambition than scruples.”

I nodded, thinking about how Minnie and Rosie had professionally butted heads for years. Minnie’s frustration had always been evident, stemming from Rosie’s consistent edge over her. Year after year, Rosie claimed the Millcrest Baker’s Award—a prize Minnie had set her sights on since day one of opening her bakery in town. “True. She’s been gunning for Rosie’s spot for years.”

“Let me get this straight—we’re looking at Rosie herself, Jake, Minnie, and Dominic Steele as potential culprits?” I watched as Penny ticked off each name on his fingers.

Before I could answer, my phone buzzed. A text from Dominic lit up the screen. My eyes widened as I read it.

“Speak of the devil,” I muttered, a hint of excitement creeping into my voice. “Dominic’s traced the cufflink to some fancy men’s store downtown. He wants to meet at his office in an hour.”

Penny’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, intrigue! Want me to come along? I could be your Watson.”

I chuckled, already standing up. “Not this time, my dear Watson. But I’ll fill you in later.”

8

Iheld the list of cufflink purchasers in my hand, my eyes darting over the names, each one a potential lead. The exclusive nature of this list meant only a select few had bought them.

“How’d you get this?” I waved the paper at Dominic. “Isn’t this kind of information usually under lock and key?”

Dominic leaned back in his leather chair, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “I have my ways.” His steel-gray eyes glinted with a mix of arrogance and amusement, the sharp line of his jaw accentuated by the office’s dim lighting. I couldn’t help but notice how his tailored suit hugged his broad shoulders. The scent of pine and sandalwood wafted towards me, tinged with that infuriating hint of cinnamon. His scent reminded me of Christmas season during my childhood—like someone had distilled the essence of December into cologne and bottled it up.

It did things to me.

My eyes drifted to his mouth, remembering how his lips felt against mine. A shiver raced through me at the thought of his strong hands gripping my waist, steadying me.

No.

The mahogany desk between us demanded professionalism, not daydreams about forbidden kisses on dimly lit cobblestone streets.

I raised an eyebrow. “Care to elaborate on that?”

“Let’s just say I have connections that prove... useful from time to time.”

I snorted. “Right. Connections.”

I sank into the chair across from Dominic’s desk. As I scanned the list again, a name jumped out at me. “Marcus Cretch? Doesn’t he work for Vertex?”

“Cretch?” Dominic’s eyes narrowed. “So you encountered him before our dinner?”

I shifted in my seat, the leather creaking beneath me. “Funny story, actually. Remember that day I came up here to um… speak to you?” I cleared my throat. “Well, I shared an elevator ride with him on the way back down.”

“Speak to me?” Dominic’s eyes glinted with amusement. “You stormed into my office fit for battle, if I recall correctly.”

My face grew warm. “I wouldn’t call it storming...”

“No? What would you call it then?”

I cleared my throat. “A passionate entrance?”

Dominic chuckled, a low, rich sound that made a delicious warmth flutter in my belly. “Passionate indeed.”