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Saturday, the day of the festival, dawned bright and clear. The sun shone in the light blue sky, hinting at a perfect Spring day.
Trixie had woken Maddie up at six a.m., insisting on being fed right now.
Maddie stared at her bowl of breakfast cereal, her stomach too jumbled with nerves to make eating feasible. She resisted making a latte for herself, worried the caffeine would make her even more on edge.
Why had she entered the competition?
It hadn’t even been Suzanne’s idea. Or Trixie’s. It had been hers alone.
She was good at pulling a shot of espresso. More than good at it. But she didn’t need to win a small town competition to tell her that.
Or a big state one.
She had thought entering the contest, rather than just taking part in the festival, would be good for business.
But now she wasn’t so sure.
“Mrrow!” Trixie called from the living room.
Maddie hurried into the room, wondering what the cat was up to.
The Persian sat hunched over Wytchcraft for the Chosen.
“What is it, Trix?” Maddie asked.
“Mrrow.” The cat gently touched the cover of the book with her paw.
“I’m not going to look for a spell to find out how to win the competition,” she informed Trixie. Last night, when she’d tossed and turned trying to fall asleep, she’d wondered if there was such a spell in the book. Then instantly told herself not to think about it, because it would be cheating. And she was not a cheat.
She’d had the magical book for twenty years and had studied each page thoroughly during that time. She couldn’t remember such a spell, and even if there was one, so far she could only manage the Coffee Vision spell and the Tell the Truth enchantment.
Some witch she was.
Although the book didn’t say anything about the rule of three – that what you did, either good or bad, would come back to you threefold – she knew enough from watching TV shows and movies over the years that using magic for your own personal gain was not a good idea. Even if those TV shows and movies were fiction, surely there was a grain of truth to that belief?
“Mrrow.” Trixie looked disappointed.
“If I can’t win without magic, then it wasn’t meant to be.”
The cat stared at her with her gleaming turquoise eyes, then seemed to accept the statement.
“M ...r...r...o...w.”
“I’m glad you understand.” Maddie smiled. She was also glad nobody was witnessing the conversation. They might think she was totally mad, the way she spoke to Trixie, as if the Persian could understand her, but Maddie was sure she could – when she wanted to.
One year ago, Trixie had wandered into the coffee shop, sat on the floor beneath the counter and looked up at Maddie.
“Mrrow.”
“Are you lost?” Maddie stepped from around the coffee machine and bent down.
“Mrrow.”
She could have sworn that had sounded like “No.”
Claudine, the new owner, came out from the back and had started shouting, “Get that animal out, or else!”
Instinctively, Maddie scooped up the feline and hurried outside, turning back to scowl at her boss, before carrying the pretty cat home.
“You can stay with me until I find your owner,” Maddie had whispered, soft white fur tickling her fingers. The cat nestled in her arms, as if there was nowhere else she’d rather be.
As Maddie hurried back to work, she shook off the ridiculous thought that the Persian had been trying to tell her that she belonged to Maddie.
No one had claimed her, and now Trixie was a big part of Maddie’s life, including being interested in Wytchcraft for the Chosen. Did that mean Trixie was Maddie’s familiar?
“We’ve got to get ready for the festival.”
Trixie jumped off the sofa and trotted toward Maddie’s bedroom, stopping and looking back at Maddie as if to say, “Come on!”
***
ROCK MUSIC BLARED FROM the speakers set in the town square. The space was buzzing with people, stalls – and coffee.
The rich smell of freshly pulled espresso, combined with chocolate and cinnamon, wafted throughout the outdoor area.
Maddie wore jeans and a plum wrap top that she thought went well with her brown hair and amber eyes, while Suzanne also wore jeans with a pastel blue long-sleeved top that emphasized her fair coloring.
“I’m so nervous,” Maddie confessed to Suzanne. They sat on stools inside the truck, Trixie next to them.
“So am I, even though I’m not competing,” Suzanne replied. “I don’t think Trixie is, though.”
“No.” Maddie glanced at the cat. Her eyes were alive with interest as she stared at the scene on the other side of the truck’s serving window. She didn’t seem anxious at all.
Although it was only nine o’clock, they’d already served some customers. Today was going to be good for business, even if she didn’t win the cappuccino making contest.
“You should try your competitor’s coffee,” Suzanne urged. “See if it’s any good.”
“Maybe later,” Maddie replied. The last thing she needed was to have her nerves any more jangled.
“When’s the judging happening?” Suzanne asked.
“Any time between ten and eleven.” Maddie read through the information sheet. “The judge, Edward Grenville, will be here, accompanied by a newspaper reporter and the radio personality, who will give me a quick interview. Then I make my entry, with the judge watching, and this is where I get to tell him about the coffee I’m serving him. The winner will be announced this afternoon.”
“One hour to go.” Suzanne smiled sympathetically.
Before Maddie could answer, an elderly couple walked up to the counter, both asking for a cappuccino.
“Just like you’ll be making in the competition.” The woman grinned.
Although Maddie didn’t know them, she smiled back, and started making the drinks, adding her signature art of Trixie to the top of the microfoam.
“That is so cute,” the woman gushed. “Look, Hank, it’s a cat!”
Her husband took a sip of his drink, his eyes widening in appreciation. “This is good.”
“Oh, is that your cat?” The woman gestured to Trixie, sitting on a stool inside the truck.
“Yes,” Maddie said. “Her name is Trixie.”
“She’s gorgeous.” The woman’s gaze travelled from the cappuccino art on her drink to Trixie and back again. “Such a good likeness.”
“Thank you,” Maddie replied, pride blossoming inside her. She wasn’t much of an artist with pen and paper, but somehow she was able to create art on microfoam.
“Mmm, this is delicious.” The woman tasted her cappuccino. “I hope you win the competition.”
“Thanks,” Maddie and Suzanne spoke at the same time.
“Would you like to try a health ball?” Suzanne gestured to the small samples rolled in shredded coconut and arranged attractively on a white plate. “Everyone loves them.”
“Why not?” The woman smiled. She plucked one from the plate, popped it in her mouth and chewed. Delight flickered across her face. “Hank, we’ve got to get some of these!”
After buying four health balls and cooing over Trixie some more, the couple finally left, sipping their cappuccinos.
“That went well,” Suzanne said with satisfaction, rearranging the sample plate on the counter.
“Mrrow,” Trixie agreed.
Maddie grabbed a bottle of water from the small fridge and gulped some down. Since she’d sworn off coffee until after she competed, perhaps a mouthful of cool water would help calm her. But her stomach was still tied up in knots.
“Hi.” A plump, jolly looking woman with frizzy blonde hair came up to the counter. “I’m Jill from Aunt Winifred. My stall’s over there.” She gestured to a white tent opposite Maddie’s truck. A wooden serving table occupied the space, complete with an espresso machine. Dried flowers decorated the front of the stall.
“I guess you’re entered in the competition too?” she asked.
“Yes. I’m Maddie.” Maddie replied, instantly liking the other woman. She looked to be in her forties, with rosy cheeks and laughter lines around her eyes. “And this is Suzanne.” She gestured to her friend. “And Trixie.”
“Mrrow,” Trixie said politely, studying the woman.
“Oh, wow, you’re allowed to bring your cat with you? I have a big boisterous dog but I left him at home. I didn’t want him to wreck the place.”
“No one’s ever complained about Trixie being in the truck,” Maddie said carefully, wondering if Jill was thinking of complaining.
“That’s cool.” Jill grinned. “I just wanted to say good luck in the competition. May the best barista win. And if you’re ever passing Aunt Winifred, stop in at my cafe for a coffee – on the house.”
“Thanks.” Suzanne’s eyes lit up. “Same to you. And please, take a free sample of our health balls.” She held out the plate to Jill.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Jill picked up a coconut crusted ball and popped it in her mouth. “Yum!”
“We think so.” Suzanne grinned. “Our customers love them.”
“Now you’ve got me thinking.” A faraway look entered Jill’s blue eyes. “I’m going to try making those myself when I get home. Is that okay?” She furrowed her brow.
“Go for it.” Suzanne gestured to the sample plate. “This is my secret recipe, but I made our first batch from a recipe I found online. There are tons of variations. And they made us a profit from day one.”
“Good to know.” Jill smiled, and then turned toward her stall. “I better get back before the judging starts!” With a friendly wave, she headed back toward her stall.
“I like her.” Maddie sipped more water. Now her mouth was dry. More nerves?
“Yep,” Suzanne agreed. “And her dog sounds like fun. Hey, why don’t we go to Aunt Winifred one day and check out her café? Free coffee!”
“Good idea,” Maddie agreed. “What about next week?”
They settled on Tuesday, deciding to give themselves an extra day off.
“She might be closed on Monday,” Suzanne said.
“Or recovering from today,” Maddie added. It was only 9.30, but she was tired from all the excitement already.
She looked out at the scene. More and more people strolled on the lawn, stopping at each coffee stall and talking to the vendors.
And then, she saw him.
Maddie froze.
She told herself to act natural.
“Hi, Maddie.” A tall, attractive guy with auburn hair came up to the counter. “How’s it going?”
“Great, Luke.” Maddie told herself to breathe. Suzanne’s older brother stood right in front of her!
She’d had a schoolgirl crush on Luke ever since she’d met him, when she and Suzanne had been in middle school. But he’d always treated her as if she were just a friend of his sister’s, nothing more.
Which she was, she’d told herself over the years.
But that didn’t stop her noticing him.
He was two years older than Suzanne, and had helped them find and restore their truck that they’d named Brewed from the Bean seven months ago. She’d nursed a hope that he would finally see her in a different light – a romantic light. But he hadn’t.
Maddie had resigned herself to the fact that her schoolgirl crush was to forever remain that way, when he showed up now, on the morning of the competition.
“What are you doing here, Luke?” Suzanne frowned.
Maddie had never confided her feelings to her best friend, not wanting Suzanne to disapprove or feel weird that Maddie had a crush on her brother. But she did know that Suzanne hadn’t told her brother that Maddie was a witch – or that Maddie and Suzanne thought she was, anyway. If she could call herself a witch with only two spells under her belt.
“Giving you some moral support.” He grinned, his teeth even and white.
Maddie suppressed a girly sigh.
Suzanne checked her watch. “The competition starts soon, and Maddie’s already nervous.”
“You are?” He looked at her sympathetically. “But the judging hasn’t started yet, it’s only me.”
That was the problem, but there was no way Maddie was going to tell him that.
“Come back after the competition.” Suzanne shooed him away.
“Only if you promise to make me a coffee later.” He looked questioningly at Maddie.
She nodded, afraid if she spoke it would be a squeak.
“Okay, then.” He snagged a health ball before Suzanne could smack away his hand, and strode across the green lawn.
Maddie turned to look at Suzanne with wide eyes. “You know?” she whispered.
“Uh-huh.” Suzanne smiled sympathetically. “I would love it if you two got together. Then I wouldn’t have to feel guilty about marrying Ramon.”
They started giggling. Trixie looked like she was smiling.
“What do you think, Trixie?” Suzanne asked. “Do you think you’d like my brother as a step-dad?”
“Suzanne!” Maddie blushed furiously.
“I don’t think he knows,” Suzanne said. “Idiot. And don’t worry, I haven’t told him anything about – you know – the book or your Coffee Vision spell.”
“I know,” Maddie answered. Somehow, deep inside herself, she’d always known that Suzanne had kept her word and not told anyone else about Wytchcraft for the Chosen, or Maddie’s ability to peek into someone’s future for the next twenty-four hours.
“And speaking of you know,” Suzanne kept her voice low, “have you thought about casting it today?”
“No.” Maddie shook her head. Trying the Coffee Vision spell had been the last thing on her mind this morning.
“Don’t you think you should? If you see yourself winning the competition, then you wouldn’t be so nervous.”
“But ... wouldn’t that be like cheating?” Maddie furrowed her brow.
“Mrrow,” Trixie joined in.
Maddie wasn’t sure if the cat agreed or disagreed with her stance.
“I just thought it might give you some added confidence. Not that you should need it,” Suzanne said. “Honestly, Mads, your coffee is the best. Everyone says so. And I doubt any of these other people—” she waved a hand to encompass the stalls dotted over the green “—would be able to make cappuccino art as good as you. And even if they could, I bet they don’t have a cute cat on their entry.”
“But I don’t want to win with a gimmick,” Maddie replied. “I want to win because my cappuccino is the best.”
“And it will be,” Suzanne assured her. “But I bet presentation is one of the areas the judges will consider as well. I doubt a sloppy looking cappuccino, even if it tasted good, is going to win over a great looking and tasting cappuccino.”
Before Maddie could reply, a couple in their fifties hurried over to the truck.
“Are we too late, honey?” The woman had dark brown hair touched with gray and a warm smile, and wore dove-gray slacks with a matching sweater. “Has the judge seen you yet?”
“Not yet, Mom.” Maddie returned her mother’s smile.
“Try not to be nervous, dear.” Her mother patted her hand. “Oh, look, you brought Trixie.”
“She insisted on coming,” Maddie replied.
Her mother made a small tsking sound that Maddie interpreted to mean that she didn’t believe that to be entirely true, but Maddie let it go. Growing up, she hadn’t had pets, apart from a rabbit, and Trixie was her first cat, as well as her familiar – perhaps.
Maddie had never told her parents about Wytchcraft for the Chosen, certain her conservative parents would not approve. And she wasn’t going to start now.
“Health ball, Mr. Goodwell?” Suzanne held out the sample plate.
“Thanks, Suzanne.” Maddie’s father chose one and started chewing. “Mmm.” He dug out his wallet and held out some cash. “Give me two more.”
“Peter,” Maddie’s mom said, “you’ll ruin your appetite.”
“I doubt any of the offerings at the other stalls will be as good as these.” He held out one of the balls to his wife.
Maddie’s mother put it in her mouth and elegantly chewed. “You’re right,” she admitted. “Suzanne, I don’t know what you put in these things, but I’m convinced they’re magic.”
Maddie and Suzanne looked at each other. The irony was that there was no magic involved in Suzanne’s healthy treats.
“We’ll come back later for a cup of coffee, dear,” her mother said. “You have a little rest before the judge arrives – sit on the stool next to Trixie until it’s time to make the best cappuccino ever. Good luck!”
“Yes, Mom.” Maddie followed her mother’s orders, stroking Trixie as she sat next to the feline.
“I can make the coffees if we get any customers before the judging,” Suzanne offered, once Maddie’s parents left. While she was decent at making lattes and cappuccinos, she wasn’t as good as Maddie.
“Thanks.” Maddie smiled at her friend.
Before she had time to take a breath though, the nasal whine of her nemesis struck her ears.
“How’s it going, girls?” Claudine propped her elbows on the truck counter.
Suzanne scowled and shooed at Claudine’s arms. “This is for customers.”
“Take it easy.” Claudine smirked, slowly removing her elbows from the white counter. “Nervous, Maddie?”
Before Maddie could reply, Suzanne jumped in. “Why should she be nervous? Everyone knows she makes the best coffee for miles around.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” Claudine studied her inky black painted fingernails, then held them out. “I got my nails done especially for today. They look good, don’t they?”
“Yes,” Suzanne grudgingly admitted, “If you like that depressing color of black.”
“Ha ha.” Claudine did not look amused. “Anyway, I decided to stop by and wish you girls luck, because you’re going to need it. I’m going to blow the judge away with my cappuccino and win the contest. And then all your customers will come to my café instead and you’ll be begging me for a job.” Her gaze flickered over both of them, dismissing Trixie. “Which I might give you, if you ask very nicely.”
“In your dreams.” Suzanne snorted.
“There is no way I will ever work for you again.” Maddie found her voice.
“Mrrow!” Trixie said indignantly. Maddie thought the cat still remembered Claudine chasing her out of the café on the day they’d met.
“Your loss.” Claudine shrugged.
“Hello, Maddie and Suzanne.” Ramon’s, rich, deep voice was a delight after Claudine’s nasal whine. “And Trixie, of course.”
“Hi Ramon.” Suzanne blushed.
“Hi,” Maddie murmured with a smile. Now that she’d seen Suzanne’s brother Luke that morning, suddenly Ramon didn’t seem quite as sexy. He still was, she knew that, but deep down inside herself, she wanted Luke, not Ramon.
“Mrrow.” Trixie greeted the masseuse, a playful look on her face.
“Oh, Ramon.” Claudine turned to him. “I’m Claudine and I own the café near your salon and I’ve heard you give wonderful massages.” She positively gushed, her shrill voice making Maddie wince.
“Some people seem to think so,” Ramon said, attempting to look modest.
“I must have one with you. I must!” Claudine’s face was animated.
Maddie and Suzanne looked at each other, as if to say, “Yikes!”
“There is no way I would ever give that woman a massage,” Suzanne whispered in Maddie’s ear. “I’d rather eat dirt.”
“Let me check my calendar.” Ramon dug his phone out of his jeans pocket. He pressed some buttons. “Yes, I have one appointment left on Monday afternoon at four o’clock.”
“I’ll take it!” Claudine answered.
“You know where I am?”
Something that sounded like a cross between a giggle and a squeal emitted from Claudine’s lips. “Everyone knows where your salon is, Ramon.”
“OMG,” Suzanne muttered to Maddie. “Is she trying to flirt with him?”
“Good. I will see you then, Claudine.”
“Yes,” Claudine breathed, looking at him longingly. Then, as if she finally realized where she was, her demeanor changed. “And I’ll see you from the winner’s podium, Maddie.”
The older woman flounced away, Maddie wondering if her peculiar stride was another flirtation effort.
“I take it you are not friends with her?” Ramon asked curiously.
“No way.” Suzanne shook her head vigorously, her ponytail swinging from side to side.
“No,” Maddie replied. “She used to be my boss, until Suzanne and I struck out on our own.”
“I think she is an unhappy woman,” Ramon said. “Perhaps my massage will make her feel a little better. More relaxed.”
“She’s not a nice woman, Ramon,” Suzanne told him. “She’s always coming over to our truck, trying to cause trouble.”
“Do not fear, Suzanne.” Ramon patted Suzanne’s hand. By the look on her face, Maddie thought her friend was trying not to swoon. “I have dealt with women like Claudine before. A little kindness can work wonders, as well as the right essential oils. Perhaps she will not bother you after her massage.”
A moment later, Ramon left, wishing them the best of luck.
“I so want to marry that man,” Suzanne declared, her gaze following him as he strolled to the other side of the green. “I mean, he’s kind to awful old women like Claudine!”
“She’s not that old,” Maddie protested, wondering why she was even bothering to defend her nemesis. But she and Suzanne were twenty-seven and Claudine looked to be in her forties.
“You know what I mean, Mads,” Suzanne replied. “Maybe not so much old in years, as in her outlook.”
“You could be right,” Maddie agreed.
“Mrrow!” Trixie joined in the conversation.
Just then, a flurry of activity nearby heralded the arrival of the judge.
“Here they come,” whispered Suzanne, suddenly standing tall.
Maddie took a deep breath, telling herself not to be nervous. This can’t possibly be worse than working for Claudine. At that bracing thought, she pinned a smile to her lips and looked out of the serving hatch.
“Ready, girls?” A short, overweight man in his fifties with a bristly brown beard and an oily smile approached them. He held a microphone toward them.
He was accompanied by a wiry looking man in his forties, who had receding dark hair and wore horn-rimmed glasses.
A third gentleman smiled at Maddie and Suzanne. He was older than the other two men and had an air of gravitas about him.
“I’m Edward Grenville, the judge for today,” the eldest man spoke. “This is Dave Dantzler, from Mornings with Dantzler on KBJW, and Walt, the newspaper reporter from the Estherville Star. They’ll be interviewing you after I judge your entry.”
Maddie nodded, remembering reading something about that on the competition form.
Are you ready—” the judge looked down at the clipboard he held “—Maddie Goodwell?” He suddenly seemed to spot Trixie. “And who do we have here?” He smiled.
“This is Trixie,” Maddie said, wondering if she’d get points taken off her entry or even disqualified for having a cat in the truck. Trixie’s presence had never worried the health inspector, and Maddie hadn’t given a second thought that she might not be welcome today.
“Charming,” the judge said. “And this business is Brewed from the Bean?”
“Yes,” Suzanne spoke.
“Good.” The judge made a notation on his form. “We just have to double check everything. It would be terrible if the wrong person won, because their stall wasn’t where it was supposed to be.”
Maddie smiled politely. Her stomach fizzed with nerves, and she took a deep breath.
As crazy as it seemed, somehow she could feel Trixie silently reaching out and offering her support. Feeling more centered, Maddie waited for the judge’s instructions.
“I would like you to make me a cappuccino. I assume you’ve read the rules?”
“Yes, sir,” Maddie replied.
“Good. The amount of time it takes you is also taken into account. However, I will primarily be judging on taste and appearance.” He held up a stopwatch. “Your time starts now.”
Maddie flew to the coffee machine, her movements a blur. She’d practiced in her spare time over the last week, although Suzanne had protested that surely she didn’t need to train for the contest, when she made coffees all day long in the truck?
But a fierce kernel of competitive pride had made her want to win – she cared more about her own reputation and beating Claudine fair and square than she did about making it to the barista competition in Seattle.
The machine buzzed and whirred as she pulled what she hoped was a great tasting shot. She’d specifically chosen dark roasted Arabica beans for this competition – she often used the same kind of beans for her customers’ drinks, and thought they would give her the best chance of success in the competition.
The aroma of the espresso shot filled the truck, sweet notes of fruity complexity, as Maddie steamed the milk. She could feel Suzanne and Trixie silently cheering her on. No longer nervous, Maddie confidently poured the milk into the cup, adding her signature art – a picture of Trixie.
Surreptitiously exhaling, she presented the cappuccino to the judge. Win or lose, she’d just made one of the best cappuccinos of her life!
The judge sniffed appreciatively, the other two men peering over his shoulder as he studied the cat art on top of the foam.
“Charming.” He smiled, his gaze flickering to Trixie and back to his cup. “Yes.” He made a note on his clipboard.
Maddie held her breath. Would he still think it was “charming” when he tasted the coffee?
He took a sip. She didn’t know whether to close her eyes or keep watching him. Her curiosity won out, and she kept her gaze trained on him.
The judge’s expression didn’t give much away, but Maddie told herself surely she would know if he hated the taste of her cappuccino?
He looked down at the cup, and took another sip. And another. Finally, he stated his verdict. “Delicious, Ms. Goodwell.”
Maddie breathed a sigh of relief. She turned to look at Suzanne, who had a huge grin on her face. Trixie looked pleased as well.
“Thank you, sir,” Maddie said.
“We have one more contestant to go, and then I need to tabulate the scores. The winner will be announced later today.”
Maddie sank down on the stool, not sure if her legs could still support her. She watched the judge head toward a small tent marked Private on the other side of the square.
“Don’t get too comfy.” Dave Dantzler, the overweight radio personality, smirked. “I’ll be interviewing you first, and then Walt will, for the newspaper.”
“Sure,” Maddie replied, bristling at his tone. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that Trixie no longer looked relaxed, and instead sat up straight on her stool, as if determined to keep a stern eye on him.
“What’s your secret to making a good cup of coffee?” Dave asked.
“Using the best ingredients possible.”
“Such as?” The radio personality looked a little bored.
“Such as buying the best beans I can, ensuring they’re roasted to bring out the greatest flavor, and using the highest quality milk and chocolate powder for the dusting on top of the cappuccino,” Maddie replied evenly.
“Everyone loves Maddie’s mochas,” Suzanne put in. “It’s partly because of the chocolate powder she uses, and she’s not mean with it like some other baristas.” A telltale roll of her eyes alerted Maddie to the fact that Suzanne was talking about Claudine.
“What’s the other reason people love her mochas?” Dave asked, sounding like he was making fun of Suzanne’s statement.
“The coffee,” Maddie replied. “It all comes down to the quality of the coffee, and how you use it.” She didn’t like the tone this man was taking, but she was just relieved her part in the competition had finished. Besides, it was a regional radio station – how many listeners did this man have? His behavior was a tad obnoxious so far – did he sound like that on the air?
“Thanks—” Dave looked down at his notes “—Maddie Goodwell. I’ve got what I need.” He looked at his colleague Walt, the newspaper reporter. “Your turn.”
“Hi,” the scrawny man said. Behind his horn-rimmed glasses his eyes gleamed with intelligence. “Do you mind if I record this?” He held up his phone.
Maddie and Suzanne looked at each other, then shook their heads. After all, Dave Dantzler had just recorded them for his show.
“How long have you been operating Brewed from the Bean?” Walt asked.
“Seven months,” Maddie replied.
“And where do you normally park your truck? So our readers can check you out?” he added.
“Here.” Suzanne jumped into the conversation. “This is our usual site and the organizers said we could keep it for the festival.”
“That was fortunate. So, how do you think you went in the competition?”
“Um ... I don’t like to speculate,” Maddie eventually replied. What could she say? That she hoped she was the winner? She didn’t want to come off over-confident in her interview. If she didn’t win, she’d look foolish.
“Maddie’s coffee is awesome,” Suzanne said. “You should put that in your article.”
“Mm.” The reporter looked like he was trying not to smile at Suzanne’s enthusiasm. “And what about your cat? Does she come to work with you every day?”
“Not all the time,” Maddie said cautiously. “Sometimes she likes taking a break at home.”
“Mrrow,” Trixie agreed.
“Her name is Trixie,” Suzanne put in.
“She’s certainly cute,” the reporter commented. His gaze landed on the sample plate of health balls. “What are these?”
“Try one,” Suzanne urged, holding the plate toward him. “These are my specialty, just like coffee is Maddie’s. They’re healthy but delicious.”
“Hmm.” The reporter chewed, then swallowed. “What do you call them? I’ll include it in my article.”
Suzanne’s eyes lit up. “Health balls. They contain coconut, dates, and cacao – not cocoa.”
“They’re certainly tasty,” the reporter agreed. “So what are your plans after the competition, Maddie? If you win the wild card entry into the big Seattle competition?”
“Maddie will compete, of course,” Suzanne said before Maddie could open her mouth.
“That’s right,” Maddie added with a rueful smile. She loved Suzanne, but sometimes her best friend spoke for her.
“And after that?” the reporter probed.
“If she wins that competition, she’ll be able to compete in the nationals,” Suzanne said.
“Yes.” Maddie wondered if the article would actually mention any of her comments or if it would only include Suzanne’s statements.
“And what about Brewed from the Bean? Any plans to expand?”
“We haven’t thought about that yet,” Maddie jumped in. And it was true. For the moment, Maddie was quite happy running this truck with Suzanne and Trixie. They made enough money to cover their living expenses plus some extra to invest in the business.
“But we hope to,” Suzanne put in.
“Okay.” The newspaper reporter nodded. “I think that’s all for now.” He craned his head toward the other side of the lawn. The judge emerged from the private tent, striding toward a stall opposite Maddie and Suzanne.
“Good luck,” Walt said. “It looks like the judge is ready for the last contestant.”
“Thank you,” Maddie said.
“Mrrow,” Trixie added.
“Phew!” Suzanne flopped onto a stool. “I’m glad it’s all over – apart from having to wait until you’re announced the winner!”
“So am I,” Maddie said wryly. “And I mightn’t win. You know that.”
“Do not.” Suzanne grinned. “Okay, I won’t say it again but I reserve the right to say I told you so when they hand you the trophy.”
“There’s a trophy?”
Trixie’s ears pricked.
“Yep.” Suzanne winked. “I had a peek inside the judge’s tent this morning when everyone was setting up. It’s small but it’s definitely a gold trophy.”
“Suzanne!” Maddie didn’t know whether to be shocked or amused. “What if you got caught? They might have disqualified me.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” Suzanne looked momentarily chagrined. “Sorry, Mads. I promise not to do something like that again.”
“Good.” Maddie blew out a breath. “Because if I do win—” she felt uncomfortable saying that out loud and hurried on, “—they might have security at the Seattle contest and if you tried to get a peek at the prizes there—”
“Don’t worry,” Suzanne hastened to reassure her. “I wouldn’t blow your chances like that.” She appeared to realize what she’d just said. “Okay, yeah, I shouldn’t have succumbed to temptation this morning.” She looked around as if checking for eavesdroppers but apart from passersby strolling through the green and stopping at the different stalls, there didn’t seem to be anyone loitering. “Thank goodness nobody saw me.” She lowered her voice.
“Thank goodness,” Maddie echoed. Although she’d been trying to downplay it, she really wanted to win the competition.
“You stole my beans – you – you bean thief!” Claudine’s shrill voice caught their attention.
