Fatally Flaky by Diane Mott Davidson Read Free Book Online Page B

exterior, but once you got to know her, Yolanda was a generous soul. Still, I knew she would not be happy to add more duties to all she had to do in the spa kitchen. I shook my head. What ailed Billie Attenborough anyway?
    The phone rang and I checked the caller ID. It was Julian.
    “Are you all right?” I immediately demanded.
    “Of course I’m all right, why wouldn’t I be? A drunk crashed into the cake I’d spent zillions of hours making for his daughter’s wedding, and why? Because apparently the priest flattened him. And then while I was trying to fix the cake, the bitch whose wedding we’re doing the day after tomorrow showed up in the kitchen with a whole new set of demands, which include adding fifty people to her guest list. What about that strikes you as not all right?”
    “Oh, Julian, I’m sorry. I just was worried about you.”
    “And I’m worried about you, boss. I was just sitting here thinking of all that extra work Billie’s dumped on you, and wondering how you’re going to manage casing a new venue while buying more supplies while doing a kick-ass new amount of new cooking. So…are you staring at your computer now, or what?”
    I sighed. “You’ve got it.”
    “All right, e-mail me your shopping list and recipes, and I’ll get it done tomorrow. Plus, I know, I’ll have to make an extra layer or two for the wedding cake. I always leave the assembly to the last thing, so that’ll work. And I’ve already asked for the day off from the bistro.”
    “But Saturday is your busy day there! And you can’t possibly do all this in one day!”
    “Don’t worry, okay? You’ve got enough on your plate. Speaking of which, boss, have you eaten anything?”
    “I’m heating up dinner now. Jack’s with Marla, and she’s going to bring him over. Tom will be home late, and Arch is with Gus and Todd.”
    “Okay.” He sounded relieved. “Now tell me you’re not sweating seeing that prick of a spa owner Victor Lane too much.”
    “I’m not sweating it,” I lied.
    “You don’t sound convinced.” When I said nothing, he said, “All right, just e-mail that stuff over, and I’ll get cracking. I know a fancy-food store here that carries caviar by the case, and they have organic free-range eggs, too. I can get some fresh new potatoes, dill, artichokes, and haricots verts at the farmers’ market first thing in the morning.”
    “Okay, listen, I’ve got plenty of pasteurized crab to do an extra hundred crab cakes, plus sauce. That should be way more than enough. You’re welcome to do all the rest. Please know I’m grateful. I’m so glad we don’t have to dump all the extra work on Yolanda out at the spa.”
    “Wouldn’t she just love that?”
    “No, she wouldn’t. And by the way, you’re the best.”
    “Oh, and don’t I know it,” he said. But he didn’t. Julian was the most humble twenty-something I’d ever met. “Now be sure to get plenty of rest to night. Any word from the Attenborough coven?”
    “Charlotte called. She’s going to have to come over to night so we can do the extra contract. But my big worry is Jack. I have to try to comfort him. I mean, he’s just lost his best friend. I’m going to try to convince him to eat here.”
    “Yeah, good plan. Did they ever find out exactly what happened to Doc Finn?”
    “Car accident is all I know. Tom should be able to tell me more later.”
    He signed off after again urging me not to worry about the Attenborough wedding. “Just think,” he said, trying to sound jovial, “in just forty-eight hours, it’ll be over!” When I didn’t say anything, Julian concluded, “And don’t worry about Victor Lane either.”
    Right, I thought as I checked the pecan-butter crust. It was cool enough to fill, so I set about picking over and carefully washing the raspberries and blueberries Julian had brought from the same Boulder farmers’ market where he’d be going tomorrow.
    Don’t worry about Victor Lane, Julian had said. But how