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THE NEXT MORNING, LAUREN stumbled into the shower, her eyes bleary. Getting up early was the only thing she didn’t like about owning a café. She was grateful to her Gramms for leaving her the café and cottage, and had quit her boring office job in Sacramento, driving down with Annie. When Zoe had visited for a weekend, she decided to stay permanently, becoming Lauren’s assistant in the café, and her roommate in the cottage. Annie seemed to be the only one of them who enjoyed waking up early.
“Brrt?” Annie called as Lauren stepped out of the steamy bathroom.
“Sorry,” she apologized. She’d been so intent on forcing herself to get showered and dressed in a hurry she’d forgotten to give Annie her breakfast. Throwing on her robe over her curvy figure, she followed Annie to the kitchen, spooning out chicken in gravy for her.
“Brrt.” Annie licked the gravy first, her little pink tongue lapping at the sauce, then ate enthusiastically.
Lauren’s gaze landed on the pot containing the catmint. She hadn’t gotten rid of it yet. She made a mental note to do so before she and Zoe left for the pizza competition.
Noticing the time on the kitchen clock – five-thirty already – she dashed into her bedroom and pulled on her usual work outfit of blue capris and a peach t-shirt. She hoped Ed wouldn’t mind if she got to the café before eight.
Usually, the café was open on Saturday mornings, but she and Zoe had decided to close it that day because of all the baking she had to do for the refreshments table. They’d put a sign up on the window a few days ago and had told a lot of their regular customers as well. She just hoped everyone would understand.
Lauren crunched granola, Annie sitting next to her at the table.
“I’m going to the café now to start baking,” she told the silver-gray tabby. “Is Zoe up yet?”
“Brrp.” No.
“I’ll see you later.” She kissed the top of Annie’s furry head.
When she got to the café, Ed was already in the kitchen, shaping his Danishes. The aroma of freshly baked pastry filled the air.
“Mm.” Lauren sniffed appreciatively.
“I’ve put some apricot Danishes aside for you guys,” Ed told her gruffly. “To say thanks for letting me do this.”
“Anytime.” Lauren was touched. “You know that.”
He nodded, focusing his gaze on the satiny dough.
“You don’t mind if I’m here a bit early, do you?” Lauren got out her tins.
“It’s your kitchen.” He smiled.
After Lauren slid cupcake trays into the oven, Ed said, “I wish AJ could come to the park today, but she’s not trained on a lead and harness like Annie is.”
Annie had found AJ in the backyard when she was a tiny kitten. Ed and AJ had bonded instantly, turning him into a proud cat papa.
“Are you still taking her to the shelter when you help out?” Lauren asked. A few months ago, AJ had noticed Ed not being at home as much and had started acting up. When he explained to her where he was going after working at the café, and took her with him, she seemed to understand.
“Yeah.” He smiled. “She’s made friends with some of the cats there – and even a couple of dogs.”
“That’s great,” she replied. “Annie isn’t attending, either. I think the crowds would be too much for her, even though she’s used to the customers in here.”
“And shows them to their table,” Ed added.
The two of them worked in companionable silence for a while.
Once Lauren’s cupcakes were cool enough, she decorated them with the cream cheese frosting she’d whipped up.
“They look good,” Ed complimented when she’d finished. A large creamy swirl decorated each treat.
“Thanks. So do yours.” She pushed a red velvet toward him. “I’m saving one for all of us – you, me, Zoe, Mitch, and Chris.”
“Thanks.” He smiled briefly.
She boxed up the cupcakes, and put the Danishes Ed had given her into a small cardboard container.
“Do you need any help taking them to your car?” Ed asked.
“Thanks, but I’m sure Zoe can help,” Lauren replied. She hadn’t seen her cousin all morning.
“Tell her good luck from me for the competition,” he replied.
“Good luck to you, too.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll win. I haven’t been practicing like Zoe has. And if I do, I thought I’d donate the prize to the shelter – or Father Mike. I’m sure he knows some folks who would consider a free pizza a real treat.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
“Father Mike’s assisted me in the past. If he needs my help, I’ll give it to him.”
Lauren nodded. Ed was a man of few words but she’d realized since she’d started working with him that he had hidden depths.
“Are the cupcakes ready?” Zoe zipped into the kitchen, wearing jeans and a red t-shirt. “Hi, Ed!”
“Hi,” he replied.
“Yes.” Lauren indicated the pink boxes. “Can you help me take them to the car?” She checked her practical white wristwatch. “We should be going soon.”
“No problem!” Zoe picked up two boxes, her brown eyes bright and sparkling.
“You seem very chipper,” Lauren observed.
“I had a triple espresso latte.” Zoe giggled. “So I’d have plenty of energy for the competition. But I think it’s made me a bit hyper.”
“I hope the effects don’t wear off until after you compete.”
“Me too.” Zoe zoomed out of the kitchen with the boxes.
“See you at the park, Ed,” Lauren called out from behind the boxes in her arms.
“Thanks for the cupcake.” He continued to package his pastries.
***
“I’VE GOTTA GET MY BASIL leaves!” Zoe dumped the boxes in the car and raced to the cottage. “I don’t want to be late.”
“We’ve got plenty of time,” Lauren called after her, glancing at her watch. It wouldn’t even take five minutes to drive to the park.
“Did I get them out of the fridge already?”
Lauren joined her in the kitchen.
Zoe held up a creased paper bag and peered inside.
“I must have.” She frowned.
“Maybe you forgot with all that caffeine buzzing in your veins,” Lauren teased.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Brrp?” Annie wandered into the kitchen, looking a little dazed. Had it been too early for her to get up?
“We’re going to the pizza comp. You’re looking at the winner.” Zoe pointed at her chest. “I hope.”
“Brrp.”
Lauren noticed the catmint plant on the counter. Was it closer to the edge than it had been that morning? Or maybe her mind was just playing tricks on her – she’d been focusing all morning on getting the cupcakes ready in time.
“I’ll take this outside.” She picked up the pot. There seemed to be a few less leaves than she’d noticed the night before. It must be her imagination.
“Bye, Annie.” She looked down but her fur baby was already ambling toward the living room.
“Maybe Annie’s pouting because she’s not coming with us,” Zoe suggested.
“Maybe.” But when Annie pouted, you could tell. And usually, it wasn’t that often.
“Come on,” Zoe urged. “I don’t want to be late!”
***
THEY GOT TO THE PARK just after eleven. There was a crowd already, broken up into little groups of friends talking to each other.
“There’s Hans!” Zoe pointed at the dapper German in his sixties, talking with a group of people around his own age.
“And Martha.” Lauren smiled at the gray, curly-haired senior who pushed her rolling walker like a racing car driver.
Zoe carried half the cupcake boxes to the refreshment table. Ed was already there, setting out his pastries.
“What are people going to drink?” Zoe asked curiously.
“Soda.” He pointed to a big bucket full of ice and cans. “It seemed the easiest way for the shelter to make some extra money.”
“Good idea.” Lauren nodded.
“Can you handle the customers when I compete?” Ed asked.
“Of course.” She glanced around the park, kids darting from one end to the other with their pals. She was glad she hadn’t brought Annie – even though her fur baby was a people person, surely this would be too much for her.
“Ooh, there’s Father Mike!” Zoe gestured to the middle-aged balding man dressed in neat jeans and a white polo shirt, talking with another man nearby. “I’ll go and say hello to him.”
“Should you if he’s the judge?” Lauren crinkled her brow.
“Good point.” Ed nodded.
“I’m sure he won’t mind,” Zoe told them. “Besides, isn’t he going to be blindfolded or something when he tastes each pizza?”
“You’re right,” Ed replied.
“Father Mike!” Zoe zoomed over to him. “Hi!”
Lauren watched as her cousin greeted the priest. The trio were close enough that she could hear their conversation.
“Hi, Zoe.” Father Mike beamed at her. “You know Vince, don’t you?”
“Hi Vince,” Zoe said to the fifty-something man. He wore jeans and a gray t-shirt featuring a pizza on it. “I’m afraid Lauren and I might be one of your best pizza customers.”
Vince chuckled. “You’re one of my most regular, for sure. And I appreciate your business.”
“I can’t wait for the competition to start,” Zoe enthused.
“Have you signed up yet?” Father Mike asked.
“Oops – no.”
“The sign-up table is over there.” Vince nodded to a long table a short distance away from the refreshments. Two portable ovens stood behind it.
“Thanks!” Zoe dashed off.
A few minutes later, she rejoined Lauren at the refreshment stand.
“All set! Have you signed up, Ed?”
“Yep.” He nodded.
“How many competitors are there?” Lauren asked curiously.
“More than I thought.” Zoe sounded glum for a second.
“I think you’ve got a good chance,” Ed assured her.
“Thanks.”
“Are you open for business?” A man in his early forties carrying a blue daypack came up to the table. His brown hair was brushed back from his forehead, and he wore smartly pressed jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. “Everyone is telling me how good your cupcakes are.”
“Yes, we are.” Lauren picked up the tongs and a paper bag. “What can I get you?”
“Two of those red velvet babies.” He pointed to Lauren’s creations, the cream cheese frosting swirled up high. Anticipation flickered across his face.
“Here you go.” She handed him the brown paper bag. “Napkins are over there.” A stack of white paper napkins took up one corner of the table.
“Thanks.” He handed her the cash and turned to walk away.
A young guy around eighteen almost bumped into him as he approached the table.
“Watch it,” the man said. Then his voice changed to one of recognition. “Oh, it’s you.”
“Yeah.” The young guy nodded. He was dressed casually in jeans and a navy t-shirt.
“Are you competing?”
“No.” The young guy edged around him.
“I’m going to win.”
The young guy gave him a bored look and came up to the refreshment stand. The man shrugged and walked away.
“I’ll have a red velvet,” the young guy said.
“They’re the best,” Zoe enthused. She stared after the previous customer while Lauren grabbed a bag. “Do you know that guy?”
“Nope.” The young guy shook his head, his hair flopping over his forehead. “He’s just some customer I had to deal with where I work.”
“I get you.” Zoe nodded.
“Here you go.” Lauren handed him the cupcake.
“They look good.” He gave them cash.
“Thanks.” She watched him stroll away.
“At this rate you’ll sell out in no time,” Zoe remarked. “You did put some cupcakes away for us, didn’t you?”
“Of course.” Lauren smiled. “And Ed gave us some apricot Danishes as well.”
“Awesome.” Zoe beamed at them. “Oh, there’s Ms. Tobin. I bet she’d love one of your Danishes or a cupcake.” She darted toward the middle-aged customer.
“I don’t think her triple espresso has worn off yet,” Lauren said wryly to Ed.
“Yeah.”
Ms. Tobin came over to the stand. In her fifties, she was tall and thin, and today wore a fawn skirt and cream blouse that complemented her brown hair. She used to be their prickliest customer, but she’d mellowed since Lauren and Zoe had saved her from an internet scammer.
“Hi, Ms. Tobin,” Lauren greeted her. “We have Ed’s apricot Danishes or red velvet cupcakes.”
“Really, Lauren, how can you expect me to decide?” There was a twinkle in her eye as she spoke. “I do like your red velvets, but I believe I’m more in a Danish mood right now.”
“No worries.” Lauren watched Ed put the Danish in a paper bag.
“Are you entering the pizza competition?” she asked Lauren.
“No, but Zoe is.”
“Yes, she’s just told me.” Ms. Tobin nodded. “I hope she does well.”
“So does she.” Lauren smiled wryly.
“Where’s Annie?” Martha barreled up to them, Zoe right behind her.
“At the cottage,” Lauren spoke.
“Yeah, the crowds will be too much for her,” Zoe added.
“No hot chocolate?” Martha eyed the stand askance.
“No electricity,” Zoe told her.
Martha loved hot chocolate crammed with little pink and white marshmallows, even in summertime.
“In that case, I’d better have a soda. And one of your cupcakes. Sorry, Ed,” she added.
Ed nodded.
“So the organizer at the sign up table told me there’s going to be two heats,” Zoe informed Ed. “I think you’re in the first heat and I’m in the second.”
“Good luck,” he said sincerely.
“Good luck to you, too.” Zoe beamed at him.
“Here you go.” Lauren served the cupcake and handed Martha a soda can.
“Your cupcakes are the best.” Martha took a big bite, creamy frosting decorating her top lip. “Yum!”
“Have you seen Mrs. Finch?” Zoe asked. “She said the senior center was going to pick her up.”
“She’th over there.” Martha mumbled, pointing to an area where the minivan was parked.
Lauren waved to their friend, who strolled over to them with the aid of her cane.
“What can we get you?” Lauren asked after Mrs. Finch greeted Martha.
“One of your red velvets, please, Lauren,” Mrs. Finch replied.
“Have we got any chairs, Ed?” Lauren turned to him.
“Yeah, I brought a few fold up ones.” He set one up in front of the table.
“Thanks.” Lauren flashed him a grateful look. Why hadn’t she thought of that for her elderly customers? The closest park bench was fifty yards away.
“Would you like to sit down, Mrs. Finch?” Zoe asked.
“Or you could sit on my walker.” Martha grinned at her.
“Thank you but I think I’ll be fine – for now.” Mrs. Finch looked at the canvas fold up chair a little dubiously.
“Let us know,” Zoe told her.
“I will, dear. Thank you.”
As Mrs. Finch and Martha enjoyed their sweet treats, a plump woman with strawberry-blonde hair strode up to them.
“Do you know when the competition starts?” she demanded. “I asked the woman at the sign-up table but couldn’t get any sense out of her.”
Lauren and Zoe looked at each other.
“Um – noon?” Lauren offered.
“Yeah.” Ed nodded.
“It’s divided into two heats,” Zoe informed her. “I’m in the second.”
“So am I.” The newcomer scowled. “I didn’t think this competition would be so big – I thought I was helping the shelter by competing and paying my five-dollar fee.”
“You are,” Ed assured her. “All the proceeds are going to the animals.”
“I hope so.” The bossy woman eyed him. “Are you competing as well?”
“Yes. I’m in the first heat.”
“Hmph. Well, give me one of those cupcakes. They do look good.”
“Thanks.” Lauren quickly served her. “That’s three dollars.”
“That much?”
“All the proceeds go to the shelter,” Lauren reminded her. “We’re donating the cost of the ingredients and electricity as well.”
“And their time baking them,” Zoe added. “It takes hours to make all these.” She swept her hand over the array of glistening Danishes and frosted cupcakes.
“Very well.” The woman grudgingly pulled out her wallet and handed Lauren some cash.
“Wow,” Zoe whispered as they watched her walk away. “I hope she never comes into the café.”
“Yeah,” Ed grunted.
Lauren nodded. She hadn’t seen the woman before, and hope she wouldn’t again.
Vince rushed up to them. “Lauren, your cupcakes look great, and I mightn’t have time later to grab one.”
“Sure.” She put a red velvet into a bag for him and took his money.
“Thanks.” He smiled, then hurried over to the competition area.
“Chris!” There was sudden delight in Zoe’s voice as a tall, twenty-something guy with even, attractive features approached the table.
“Hi.” He smiled down at her, his eyes crinkling. “It hasn’t started yet, has it?”
“Nope,” she assured him.
Zoe had been dating the paramedic for a while now. He was also a friend of Mitch’s, which meant there was no awkwardness on their occasional double dates.
“Would all contestants in the first heat come to the competition table,” a distorted voice from a megaphone warbled.
“That’s me.” Ed glanced at Lauren. “Will you be okay?”
“Of course,” Lauren assured him.
“I’m here,” Zoe told him.
“I can help out,” Chris said.
“Thanks.” Ed headed toward the competition area.
“Why don’t you go and watch them?” Lauren suggested a moment later, catching Zoe gazing at the assembling competitors.
“Really?” she asked hopefully.
“Go.” Lauren shooed her away.
“I can stay if you need me to,” Chris offered.
“Go.” She smiled after them. They hadn’t been very busy so far and she was used to being slammed at the café during the lunch rush.
“Hurry, Mom,” she heard a girl’s voice call. “You have to win!”
“Okay.” A woman who appeared in her late thirties, with slightly disheveled sandy hair, jogged behind the blonde tween.
“Yeah, Mom.” A slightly younger looking boy followed her. “We have got to win. You said if you did, I could pick all the toppings on the first free pizza.”
“And I get to pick for the second free pizza,” the tween added.
“Twelve free pizzas! Yeah!” A little boy of around five ran around the woman in circles.
“Don’t trip me up,” his mother warned.
“You’ll slow down Mom and they’re about to start!” The eighteen-year-old guy who’d bought a red velvet earlier jogged up to them, his brown hair flopping over his forehead.
“I don’t know why you want me to enter,” the woman said to him. “Aren’t you sick of pizza?”
“Nope. And you said you’d love to have a night off cooking,” he reminded her.
“I must have been crazy.”
Lauren watched as the harried mother took her place at the long competition table.
Her eyes widened as she saw their new friend Jenna, a co-host for a local morning show, stand next to the cameraman filming the first heat. She knew Zoe would love it if she got to be on TV.
“Not bad.”
Lauren blinked. The man who’d bought two red velvets stood in front of her, his blue daypack slung over his shoulder.
“Bet I could make better, though.”
“Really?” She furrowed her brow.
“Yeah. I think you need some more sugar in the frosting – what is it – cream cheese?”
“That’s right.”
“People buy sweet stuff because they like sweet,” he informed her, his tone patronizing. His beady gaze swept the array of cupcakes and pastries. “Give me an apricot Danish.”
Lauren picked up the tongs and slid it into a brown paper bag.
“Thanks.” She put his cash away.
“Are you competing?” he asked.
“No.” She shook her head.
“I am.” His white teeth gleamed momentarily and he leaned over the stand as if to get as close to her as possible. “You’re looking at the winner.”
“Really?” At that moment in time, she wanted anyone else apart from him to win. She took a step back.
“I’ve got a secret weapon.” He winked.
“Lauren.”
Relief flitted through her at the sound of Mitch’s voice. A second later, his welcome arm slid around her shoulders.
“I’m glad you’re here.” She tilted her head, looking up at him. Today he was dressed down in blue jeans and a white t-shirt that showed off his arms to advantage.
“So am I.” His tone was reassuring, but his gaze steely as he surveyed the customer.
The man raised his hands. “Just buying a pastry.” He waved the paper bag in the air.
“I don’t think you should come back for another,” Mitch warned him.
The man shrugged and walked off.
“Are you okay?” Mitch asked as soon as the guy left.
“Yes.” She smiled, trying to reassure him.
“Where’s Ed? And Zoe and Chris?”
“Ed’s competing, and Zoe and Chris are watching.”
“They left you alone to handle everything?” He frowned. “Including that guy?”
“He seemed okay the first time he bought something.”
“You mean he was here before?”
She told him about the stranger’s visits to the refreshment stand, including his claim he could make better red velvets.
“I’d like to see him try,” came Mitch’s reply.
“I’m fully capable of handling this.” Lauren swept her palm over the array of treats.
“I know.”
“He was my only customer – most people are watching the first heat.” She gestured to the pizza table. A large crowd watched the competitors, which included Ed.
The warm sun kissed her face, making her glad she wore sunscreen. A welcome cool breeze ruffled the ends of her light brown, shoulder-length hair.
“I didn’t know this was going to be on Stop Yawning, Sacramento.” He indicated Jenna and the cameraman.
“We didn’t, either.”
“If Zoe gets on TV, she’ll be talking about it for a while.”
“I know.” They exchanged a smile.
Lauren served a couple more customers while Mitch stayed by her side.
“When are you going to tell me about your new case?” she asked when they were alone.
“It’s a missing persons investigation,” he told her.
“That doesn’t happen often around here, does it?”
“No. But I did handle some when I worked in Sacramento.” Mitch had moved down to Gold Leaf Valley a couple of years ago, which is how she’d met him. He’d investigated the murder of one of her customers.
“Can you tell me anything about it?” Lauren asked curiously.
“Not yet.” He shook his head. “I don’t have much to go on. But I’ll be doing some digging.”
“I know you will.” She smiled softly. Mitch was a great investigator, but the local crime scene seemed to consist of a lot of burglaries – and the occasional homicide. She was glad he was getting some variety in his work.
“Ed was amazing!” Zoe zoomed back, Chris following.
“He was.” Chris nodded.
Mitch and Chris did the guy greeting thing, just as Ed returned.
“Did you see Jenna over there?” Lauren asked.
“Yep.” Zoe grinned. “She said she’ll try to get a good shot of me, and will interview me if I win.”
“Awesome.”
“She didn’t know she was coming down here until last night. The field reporter took a personal day at the last minute.”
Lauren nodded, watching the contestants stroll back to their friends. She noticed the harried mother with the three kids looking not quite so anxious.
“How did she do?” Lauren gestured to the sandy-haired woman.
“Pretty good.” Zoe nodded. “But I noticed her toppings looked a bit messy.”
“What did she put on the pizza?” asked Mitch.
“Sausage and mushroom. But I don’t think she put enough mushroom on.”
Lauren glanced at the woman again, narrowing her eyes as a strange look suddenly flickered across the woman’s face. Her kids, urging her to watch them play on the swing set at the other end of the park, didn’t seem to notice.
The guy who’d told Lauren he was going to win the competition passed by the woman.
Was that why the kids’ mom had that creeped out expression on her face? Had she had a run in with him earlier? Had he come up to her too and told her he was going to win?
“What is it?” Mitch asked.
Lauren tilted her head toward the harried mother.
“I’m not seeing it.”
Lauren told him what she’d just observed.
“I’ll keep an eye out for this guy,” Mitch said.
The loudspeaker warbled again, calling contestants for the second heat.
“That’s me!” Zoe bounced on her toes. “Let’s go!”
“I can handle things here,” Ed said gruffly. “Go and watch Zoe.”
“Thanks,” Lauren replied gratefully.
Mitch captured her hand as they set off, right behind Zoe and Chris.
“Lauren!” Jenna greeted her as soon as they arrived at the competition area.
“Hi Jenna.” Lauren smiled at their friend. “How are you?”
“I’m great.” Her rich chestnut hair was cut in a blunt lob, framing her pretty girl-next-door features. Her smartly pressed jeans and floral blouse completed her look.
“This is Daniel, my—” she blushed adorably “—our – cameraman.”
“Hi.” He nodded. He was dark-haired and subtly good looking.
Zoe raised her dark eyebrows up and down a few times, making them nearly touch her pixie bangs.
“Is he your ...” Lauren wanted to be discreet.
“Not yet,” Jenna whispered as Daniel moved toward the competition table. A becoming pink swept her cheeks.
“I’m happy for you,” Lauren murmured.
“Thanks.”
“Wish me luck,” Zoe informed them, taking her place at the table.
“Zoe!” A blonde-haired toddler pointed at Zoe.
“Hi, Molly!” Zoe waved at her.
“Hi, Claire,” Lauren greeted Molly’s mother, a tall, athletic woman. She and her daughter were café regulars.
“Zoe win!” Molly shouted.
“I hope so.” Zoe winked at the little girl.
Vince raised the megaphone to his lips.
“You’ve got the base, you’ve got the sauce and the cheese. Help yourself to the toppings provided – but remember, only two different toppings on your pizza. If you brought your own from home, get them out now. You’ll only have five minutes to make your pizza. The timer starts—” he paused dramatically “—now!”
Each contestant had the ingredients laid out in front of them.
Zoe reached into her tote bag and pulled out the brown paper bag she’d brought from home.
Lauren noticed the bossy woman who had visited the refreshment stand earlier competing, as well as the strange – creepy? – guy telling her he could make better red velvets and that he was going to win. He’d put his daypack on the table and was pulling out a small bag that she assumed contained a special topping.
“Zoe! Zoe!” Molly danced in place and waved, but Zoe didn’t seem to hear.
“Zoe’s concentrating, darling,” Claire told her daughter.
“Where Annie?” Molly turned to Lauren. “Want Annie.”
Lauren explained that Annie was staying at home that day.
“But I’m sure she’d love to see you in the café next week.”
“Yeah!” Molly’s big smile covered her whole face.
“I’m sure we can visit next week,” Claire told her daughter. “Now, let’s watch Zoe.”
“Yeah!”
Lauren noticed her cousin had spooned on the sauce and sprinkled cheese but was now taking her time placing each piece of pepperoni. She remembered that Zoe had mentioned one of the pizzas in the previous heat had messy looking toppings. Was Zoe trying to avoid that?
“I think she’s going too slow.” A frown creased Chris’s forehead. “She still has to put the basil on.”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Mitch said.
“She’s been practicing a lot,” Lauren commented.
“But has Zoe made one in under five minutes?” Chris asked.
Oops. Lauren didn’t think so.
“One minute left,” came the warble from the megaphone.
Zoe looked up, her eyes wide in sudden horror. She flashed her gaze to the paper bag on the table, tore it open, and pulled out the leaves.
“Thirty seconds!” Vince called.
Zoe threw the green leaves onto the pizza.
“Oh no,” Chris muttered.
The messy array of leaves on the pizza seemed to undo Zoe’s work of arranging the pepperoni slices just so.
“Time!” Came the shout through the megaphone. “Hands by your side!”
Frustration flooded Zoe’s face as she looked down at her pizza.
“They will now go into the oven,” Vince told them. “As soon as our judge, Father Mike, has made his decision, I’ll announce the results.”
“I blew it,” Zoe said mournfully as she rejoined them.
“What happened?” Lauren touched her cousin’s arm.
“I was obsessed with making my pepperoni pieces super neat and forgot I also needed enough time to make the basil leaves look just as good.”
“Zoe!” Molly wrapped her arms around Zoe’s slim waist. “Zoe win!”
“I hope so.” Zoe patted Molly’s golden curls. “But I messed up with the basil leaves.”
Molly looked disappointed at the reply.
“But you did have fun competing?” Claire asked.
“Of course,” Zoe assured her and her daughter. “It was lots of fun, and I’ve been practicing at home. Lauren and I ate pizza all week long!”
Molly’s mouth parted and her eyes widened.
“Molly win, too!”
Claire chuckled. “Maybe when you’re older – if the competition’s still on then.” She turned to Zoe. “Thank you,” Lauren heard her whisper.
Zoe grinned.
A few minutes later, Vince told the crowd the pizzas were ready and would now be judged by Father Mike. He’d been waiting in a small tent, supervised by the woman taking the contestants’ fees, so he wouldn’t have an inkling who made each pizza he tasted.
“Yay!” a cheer went up.
Father Mike sat down at the table, and Vince placed a black blindfold around his eyes.
“Father Mike, how many fingers am I holding up?” He waved three in front of the priest.
“I can’t see anything, but I’ll guess two,” Father Mike replied.
The crowd laughed good-naturedly.
“The first pizza of heat two.” Vince placed the pie in front of the priest, cutting a slice and putting it on a paper plate. “Right in front of you, Father.”
“Thank you.” Father Mike sniffed the creation which looked like sausage and onion to Lauren, then took a tentative bite. He chewed and swallowed. “Delicious.”
“Now, the next one.”
Vince cut a slice of what looked like avocado and eggplant.
“Mm.” Father Mike finished his bite.
“And now, the last one.”
There had only been three people in Zoe’s heat, including Zoe.
“That’s mine!” Zoe gripped Lauren’s arm.
“Good luck,” Lauren whispered.
“Yeah, I think I’m gonna need it now.”
Lauren watched Father Mike take a tentative bite. And then another. A curious expression crossed his face. He took a third mouthful, the most he’d eaten of the other pizzas in Zoe’s heat. Maybe he’d needed to pace himself so he wouldn’t be overstuffed?
“Hmm,” he remarked. “This one is very interesting.”
“Did you hear that?” Zoe dug her fingers into Lauren’s arm again. “He hasn’t said that about any of the other pizzas!”
Chris wrapped his arm around Zoe’s shoulders and kissed the side of her temple.
“I’m ready to write up the results,” Father Mike spoke.
Vince took off the blindfold and handed the priest a clipboard and pen.
Zoe shifted from foot to foot while Father Mike wrote down his findings.
After a few minutes, Father Mike cleared his throat.
“I’m ready to announce the winner!”
“Zoe!” Molly called out.
The crowd chuckled.
“The winner is pizza number eight!” Father Mike checked a piece of paper Vince thrust at him. “Eugene Kentor! The combination of the dough, sauce, and cheese was the best I’ve tasted.”
“Yes!” The guy who’d told Lauren he could make better red velvets raced over. “I knew I’d win! Yeah! You should have hired me when you had the chance!” He pointed at Vince, who looked puzzled.
“I didn’t win.” Disappointment flitted across Zoe’s face.
“You’re a winner to me,” Chris murmured.
“Thanks.” Zoe managed a smile.
There was a hurried confab between Father Mike and Vince, with the priest pointing at Zoe’s pizza.
“We’ve decided there should be a second prize awarded – one for the most unusual ingredients,” Vince called out, having ditched the megaphone.
“The winner of most unusual ingredients is pizza ten.” Father Mike checked his paperwork. “Zoe Crenshaw!”
“Yes!” Zoe danced on the spot.
“And the prize is seven free pizzas from my shop – delivered,” Vince added.
“Zoe win!” Molly squealed.
“Yes, I did,” she told Molly. “Well – second place, anyway.”
“You won free pizzas,” Lauren pointed out.
Zoe’s expression was one of delight. “But I don’t know why they consider basil leaves to be so unusual.” She sounded puzzled.
“Maybe your combination isn’t on the menu at the shop,” Mitch offered.
“Yeah, that must be it,” Chris agreed.
“Zoe, your pizza was inspired.” Father Mike came up to her, smiling. “I would have awarded it first place if that other pizza hadn’t had the edge on its overall taste.”
“Do basil leaves taste that unusual?” Zoe asked.
“Basil?” Father Mike did a double take. “It didn’t taste like basil to me – in fact, I’m not sure what sort of leaves they were, but they definitely had a minty taste.”
Father Mike headed over to the winner, shaking his hand.
“I’m going to taste my pizza.” Zoe zoomed over to the table, where the pizzas, now on the cold side, remained.
“Do you think you should?” Lauren followed her.
“Why not? It’s my pizza – and my leaves.” Zoe pointed to the greenery scattered on top of the pie. “Well, here goes.” She cut herself a small piece and popped it into her mouth.
Her eyes widened.
She chewed and swallowed.
“I don’t know what that is, but it’s not basil!”