Sweet as Pie by Alicia Hunter Pace

Chapter Twenty-Two

After arranging the freshly made pies in the display case, Evans made a dozen crusts for the freezer. Then she called Ariel and Quentin back to the marble counter where she’d been working.

She’d put this off too long.

“I want you to make some crusts today,” Evans said.

Quentin frowned. “Are you sure? I know it’s still hot, but there’s a cold front coming in later today. Are you sure you want to do ice box pies, Evans? According to James Spann, fall really is coming to stay today.”

Of course he would think she meant they were going to make crumb crusts. That’s all she’d ever allowed.

“We aren’t going to make ice box pies.” She took a deep breath. “I want you to make the crusts for tomorrow—pastry crusts.”

Ariel, who’d been checking her reflection in the glass door of the convection oven, zoned in and widened her eyes in surprise.

“Hot damn!” Quentin clapped his hands and looked around like he was going to grab a rolling pin before she changed her mind.

But she wouldn’t. She didn’t know what was going to happen with Jake tonight beyond his vague “I’ll see you after the game,” but she had no reason to think they wouldn’t finish what they started Saturday night. In her perfect world, they would spend the whole night together. If that happened, maybe she would want to be late for work tomorrow or take off altogether.

All this had her head spinning, but it had also made her stop and think. She had painted herself into a corner where she couldn’t take off. You couldn’t have pie without crusts and you couldn’t have a pie shop without pie. Tomorrow notwithstanding, what about the future? What if things really did work out with her and Jake? She might want to take time off to be with him or travel to an away game. What if she broke her arm? It could happen, especially if Jake was really going to teach her to ice skate.

Quentin and Ariel were entirely capable. Probably. And if their crusts weren’t up to her standards, there were some in the freezer.

She pulled a folded printout from the pocket of her chef’s pants. “Here’s Saturday’s menu.” There was no need to tell them she wanted all-butter crusts for the fruit pies, cream cheese pastry for the honey walnut, coconut oil for the French coconut, and butter/shortening mix for the rest. She’d harped on it enough that it was impossible for it to be lost on them—even Ariel.

They perused the list.

“You’re going to let us make the crusts for tomorrow? Quentin and me? Now?” Ariel asked.

“Yes. Now. Chill them, but wait until morning to blind bake them.”

“She wants to give us plenty of time in case we screw up,” Quentin said.

“That’s right.” Might as well admit it. Besides, she might be here at the regular time in the morning. Nothing was sure about what would happen with Jake.

“How about the decorations?” Ariel asked. “Can we do that?”

Evans hesitated. “Sure. No free handing. Keep it simple—leaves and fruit cutouts.” There were cutters for those things. “Maybe some braids around the edges.”

Ariel gave a little squeal of delight.

“I’ll cut out the decorations and make the braids,” Quentin said. “You can do the decorating.”

“Get the crusts made first,” Evans said. “I’m going out front to help Neva open. Weigh out your ingredients and I’ll check in with you in a bit.”

Neva was checking tickets against the boxed pies in the vertical case for special orders.

“Where are Quentin and Ariel? It’s almost time to unlock the door.”

“Making pie crusts.” Evans replenished the cups next to the coffee maker.

Neva slowly turned her head and met Evans’s eyes. “You’re kidding. I didn’t think you’d ever do it.”

Evans laughed. “If you thought that, why did you keep harassing me about it?”

“Sometimes, you just have to have your say—which reminds me.” She reached under the counter and handed Evans a business card. “The guy from Hollingsworth came by.”

So, he’d given up trying to reach her by phone. “Toss it,” Evans said.

Neva looked toward the door. “Looks like we’ve got some eager customers.” A couple of people were now waiting to be let in.

“I’ll open the door,” Evans said, but just then her phone vibrated. Jake. “Uh, Neva? Could you get the door, after all? I need to take a call. I promise I’ll be right back.”

“Hello.” She hurried through the kitchen, past where Ariel and Quentin were weighing out flour, and closed herself in the supply closet.

“I don’t have much time,” he said. “About to board.”

“Neither do I. We’re just opening.”

“You’re coming tonight?”

“That’s the plan.” I’m ready, Jake. I’m shaved, plucked, and polished. I’ve had a pedicure, a facial, and I think I have mastered the perfect smoky eye. I have a new nightgown, just in case. It’s pretty, but not sexy. I’ve washed it five times so you won’t know it’s new. I’ve never been more ready in my life.

“The box office will have your ticket. Do you need more than one? Want to bring someone?”

“I think I’ll come alone. You know. Secrets.”

“Right. Probably best. About after—”

Her heart went into anxiety rhythm. “If you need to go out with your teammates, it’s fine.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” There was a smile in his voice.

“No! I just thought—” maybe you had changed your mind.

“Don’t think. I’m in teammate overload. I thought I’d just come to your house when I get back.”

“Bad plan. Hyacinth will see your car. She’s already grilled me about why you were there Saturday night.”

“Really?”

“It’s not as if you drive a Ford Focus. But to be fair, if you did, she would have grilled me about that, too.”

“So what? It’s not like we’re married to other people. It’s just Able we’re hiding from.”

“Jake. Think. Gossip.”

“Right. You’re right. This is so stupid.”

“Text me, and I’ll come to your condo.” But if she did that, what about the nightgown? She couldn’t just pack a bag like she took for granted she was staying over, but she didn’t want to be caught without a toothbrush either. Why did this have to be so hard?

“Bad plan. Killjoy lives in the building.”

“I didn’t know that.” It had never occurred to her to wonder where he lived.

Jake was silent for a moment. “Okay. New plan. I’ll ride to the game with Robbie and ride back to Laurel Springs with you.”

“What will you tell Robbie?”

“That you came to the game and I’m riding home with you.”

“Won’t he think that’s odd?” Or maybe Jake had told him about them. She hoped he had. That would make it more real.

“No. He has seven sisters and doesn’t think women ought to be on the lam late at night alone.”

He hadn’t told him—but that was good. It was just their secret.

“Okay. I’ll wait for you at the arena. Text me when you’re done and tell me where to pick you up.”

“Perfect. I need to go.”

“Me, too.”

“But, Evie?”

“Yes?”

“I hate this. I really do. This sneaking around feels so stupid. It’s not what I want.”

Her heart went into overdrive, but in a good way this time. “It won’t be long. Go get on the plane.”

“Right. It could be worse. I get to see you soon.” He laughed. “Maybe you can build a fire in that fireplace of yours.”

She clasped the phone to her heart. Jake was coming home and they were going to be together. But there was no time to think about that now. Neva was alone and people were probably already lined up for coffee.