Genevieve fled the room, her heart pounding. Her instincts had been right. Ms. Pierce had frightened Miss Love out of her job, and now Genevieve could see how she’d managed to do so. The woman was unhinged!
CHAPTER FIVE
A FAILED MISSION
Aunt Mellie, who was using a spatula to spread a layer of whipped frosting over an ice cream birthday cake, suddenly burst out laughing. Genevieve looked up to see her aunt watching her and blushed. She had just taken a monstrous bite of Chocolate Cherry Crush after smothering two scoops of it with an obscene amount of hot fudge.
“That looks like a Bad Day Sundae if I’ve ever seen one,” Mellie said. She picked up a bag of red frosting and began piping balloons around the edges of the cake. “Tough day at school?”
Genevieve swallowed her ice cream and nodded. “You could say that.”
The bells chimed and before Genevieve could swipe a napkin across her lips, Mellie had set down her piping bag, brushed her hands down her red-streaked apron, and turned for the entryway. “Don’t you dare,” she chided as Genevieve began to rise. “You sit and finish your dessert. I’ll take care of the customers.”
“Thanks, Mellie.” She sat gratefully and spooned up bite after luxurious bite.
It wasn’t just the crazy scene with Ms. Pierce that was nagging at her, or the possibility of never seeing Miss Love again. It was the fact that Tyler, now only on his second day at Sweet Dreams, had once again called in late.
“He sounded very distraught,” Aunt Mellie had insisted. “Said he was in the middle of something urgent.”
She had merely offered Mellie a strained smile, understanding that her aunt thought only the best of everyone, an endearing quality that Genevieve usually loved about her. In this case, however, it seemed ill-applied. Tyler Caivano was obviously super irresponsible and not at all suited for the responsibilities that came with working at a shop like Sweet Dreams. Luckily, at this point, he was merely in training, and his tardiness was not a direct burden on the other employees or a detriment to customers. But what about next week, when his training period was over and he was expected to pull his own weight?
Genevieve took a final bite of ice cream, scraping the bottom of her glass bowl to get the last of the hot fudge, and rose to rinse her dish. She would have to talk to her father about it, that was all. Tell him that if he insisted on sticking her with another closer, he needed to find one who actually showed up on time for work.
She took over the front of the store while Mellie finished her cake, boxed it up and stored it in the freezer, and then left for the day. The afternoon flew by and before Genevieve knew it, it was three p.m. and Chase had joined her behind the counter.
“Where’s the new guy I’ve heard so much about?” he asked as he tied on his apron. Genevieve looked critically at a splotch of vanilla on his chest and wiped it off with a washcloth.
“He said he’d be here by two, but it looks like it’s just you and me.”
Chase raised an eyebrow. He was thin and olive skinned with a thatch of thick black hair, dark brown eyes, and a birthmark over one cheek the color of caramel and shaped like Texas. He’d consequently endured the nickname Tex since middle school, although most people now called him by his actual name. “You sound irritated.”
“I am, a little,” Genevieve admitted, cracking open a roll of quarters and spilling them into the cash register.
“Well, take the afternoon off then,” Chase suggested. “It’s the middle of the week; you know it’ll be slow.”
“I don’t know,” Genevieve said uncertainly. “Tyler may show at any moment and I’m supposed to be the one training him.”
“Why don’t you let me take care of the tall, dark stranger,” Chase offered, and she laughed.
“He’s cute, for sure, but moody as heck.”
Chase restocked the napkin dispenser and waved her off. “Seriously, go. I know where you’ll be, and if it gets busy I’ll shoot you a text.”
Genevieve grinned. “Okay, you talked me into it. If he shows, let me know.”
“Will do.”
She untied her apron and hung it up on the coat rack in back, shook her hair loose from the pink uniform hat, and headed across the street for Hidden Treasures Bookstore.
When Genevieve entered the bookstore, it was like walking into another world, one very much the opposite of Sweet Dreams. Hidden Treasures was heavily quiet and exuded warmth. The Summers sold both new and used books, so the shop had that evocative smell of freshly printed paper mingled with the musty vanilla scent of old pages and aged leather.
The main section featured exposed brick walls, yellow light, and dark wood coffee tables surrounded by armchairs upholstered in a deep red velvet. The proprietor’s desk sat by one of the tall windows facing 5th Street. It was here that Genevieve could peer through from across the street and often see Brandon at the desk, inevitably reading.
Toward the back of the store was The Coffee Corner, a small cafe area with a dark tile floor and a few round, dark wooden tables arranged before an espresso bar. The cafe offered blended drinks, teas, and drip coffee, along with whatever pastries Mrs. Summers had baked for the day.
Genevieve stepped across the threshold and was immediately blocked from taking one step farther by the sudden presence of a very happy, very hairy creature at her feet. “Hey, you,” Genevieve said, squatting down to pet the dog. She buried her hands in the abundant yellow fur, rustling the beautiful coat.
She had never had her own pet, save for an unfortunate doomed betta fish her mother had bought for her when she was in second grade. The maintenance had seemed easy enough but Genevieve, who couldn’t stand any visible muck in the fishbowl, had gone a bit overboard cleaning it out, opting for a daily cleaning schedule versus the recommended twice a week. The poor little guy had died from stress, or so her father declared.
Genevieve murmured praise to the dog and scratched behind her silky blonde ears. “Hopefully you find your family soon,” she said. The dog’s tail swished contentedly, and her large dark eyes stared with open adoration at Genevieve.
At the sound of someone clearing his throat, she looked up to see Brandon watching her, looking amused. “I think I’ve been replaced as your best friend,” he said.
Genevieve stood hastily. “Don’t be silly, she just smells the waffle cones on me.”
“Mmmhmm.”
“Have you had any luck finding her owner?” she asked, stepping around the dog, who promptly trotted after her as they made their way to The Coffee Corner.
Brandon shook his head. “Not at all. Crazy, really. She’s such a nice mutt. Also, watch this.” He grabbed a muffin out of the display case and whistled to the dog. “Speak!” The dog stood on her hind legs, threw back her head, and howled. Brandon tossed her a chunk of the muffin.
“What a good girl!” Genevieve said, clapping. The dog’s tail thumped with pride and she rushed toward Genevieve, hoping for the chance to repeat her trick.
Brandon laughed, then plated a few of the muffins and grabbed their drinks. “My dad thinks maybe she belonged to someone passing through on their way to the Grand Canyon. Like maybe she got lost.”
“What does your mom think?”
