Batter of Wits (Green Valley Chronicles #22) - Smartypants Romance Page 0,43

right? Follow a recipe. Bring in some muffins. Paste a smile on my face. Get a job hiding in a kitchen. Never see Tucker again. Protect myself, and him, from any further destruction I might cause by running my mouth.

“I’m not sure if Jenn will be there or at the other location, so I’ll send Joy a text. Ask for her when you get to the counter. What did you make?” she asked.

I glanced warily at the clear plastic covering my attempt at baked goods. “They’re, uh, cinnamon?”

Joss was quiet. “Are you not sure what kind of muffins you baked?”

I couldn’t help but laugh, because it sounded like she was talking to a child. “Cinnamon cream cheese muffins. They’re a little flat. Like, the tops aren’t poufy. But I’m sure they taste fine.”

Joss let out a laugh of her own. “Okay, well … next time, always taste before you serve. Hang on, I’ll put you on speaker and text her right now.”

I exhaled slowly. “Thank you.”

“Are you … are you okay? Levi told me about your phone call the other night.”

My eyes stayed fixed on those stripes over the entrance, like each clean line would single-handedly keep my uproarious thoughts at bay. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I just … need something to do.”

“That is something I understand very well. All right, text went through. Hopefully, she’ll see it soon. When are you planning to go over?”

“I’m in the parking lot.”

Silence. “Ohhhkay then. I’ll just send another one letting her know.”

That silence was so telling, so loaded with questions and curiosity and … everything else that I didn’t feel like dealing with, so I charged ahead. “Thank you. Gotta go! Tell Levi I said hi. Give Nero a kiss for me,” I said, referencing her giant Doberman.

Joss was mid-protest when I disconnected the call with a wince.

A text from Grady came in just as I did.

Grady: Where are you?

Me: Donner Bakery. Not the downtown location.

Grady: You say that like I know locations of anything. I’m hungry, so I’ll meet you there. Don’t leave.

Knowing my brother would be there soon helped, because even if my flat little cinnamon muffins didn’t get me a job, I could wait for him and eat all the sweets. I marched into the bakery, phone tucked safely into my purse and two hands gripping the container.

Inside the building, it was busy and warm and smelled like heaven on earth.

The glass case was filled with neatly organized rows of cupcakes and berry tarts. Cakes with pastel layers of frosting and muffins topped with large chunks of sugar. Everything was beautiful, so beautiful that I looked down at my pathetic little muffins and frowned.

“Are you Grace?” a voice asked. There was a small line at the long counter, but a dark-haired young woman with a giant smile popped her head around and waved me up to the side of the register when I nodded. “Goodness, no need to wait back there, I just got a text from Joss and I’m so delighted to meet someone new to town!”

I laughed. Not a single person outside my family had been this sweet and welcoming. I shifted the plate so I could shake her hand. “Grace Buchanan.”

“I’m Joy.” She waved me closer so she could take the container of muffins from me. “Now, I can’t guarantee anything for a job, because it’s up to Jennifer as the owner, and she’s downtown today, but we just love Joss to bits and we miss her terribly.” She paused, exhaling a shaky laugh as her eyes glossed over. “Don’t tell her I said that or that I got a little teary, because she always hated when I cried.”

I smiled. “That sounds like Joss.”

Already, I felt better. Maybe it was Joy’s effusive greeting, or the atmosphere of the bakery, but the distraction from my thoughts was instantaneous. Yes, this was precisely what I needed. She chattered happily as she moved to a section of counter next to a fancy looking coffee machine and peeled back the Saran Wrap.

I took a deep breath, feeling calmer, lighter, happier.

I’d learn how to roll out bread dough.

Spread fondant like a friggin’ pro.

Make designs in the whipped foam before I served it to the residents of Green Valley who’d soon know me by name and have happy figure eight conversations with me too.

Joy lifted a muffin and smelled it. “Cinnamon?”

I nodded. “Cinnamon cream cheese.”

Her lips pursed to one side as she studied the flat top. “Have you been baking for