Poison Apple Crisp - Addison Moore Page 0,79
about anything that comes out of my bakery.”
Noah’s dimples dig in. “I’ve looked into it. And at this stage, as long as you can keep something down, you’re in good shape.” His phone beeps. “It’s Ivy. She wants to talk. Something about Meadows’ case.”
“Oh? Well, don’t worry about me. In fact, I’m going to be right here filling my pie hole with whatever I can shove in it.”
“Good.” He offers a stern look. “Try to stay out of trouble.” He takes off, and I can’t help but frown as he leaves.
Try to stay out of trouble?
It’s like the whole world thinks I’m a magnet for misfortune.
My hand warms my stomach. “Don’t you worry,” I whisper. “I plan on keeping us plenty safe.”
A dark shadow moves in the corner of the room, and I gasp as my feet inch in that direction. A cold, foreboding feeling fills me as I sense its dark presence. It’s the same feeling I had that night when I saw that enormous creature with the blood red eyes.
“Lottie?” a woman’s voice calls my name from behind, and I turn to find Alyssa Thomas as she strides over with an easy grin. Her dark hair is pulled back into a bun, and she’s dressed demurely as if she were about to attend a business meeting. Although, I guess her accouterments are far better suited for a school function than those donkey ears of hers.
“Hello, Alyssa,” I say, scooping up an apple crisp just as she does the same. “How is everything going over at the Brew Ha Ha?”
“Business is brisk. In fact, believe it or not, I’ve got approval from the PTA to cater the homecoming dance.”
“What? That’s fabulous. Congratulations. I know that’s a big deal and an honor.”
She nods. “I was iced out for so long, I had resigned myself to the fact I wouldn’t have much to do with the school. But now that Brenda is gone, Rachelle has stepped in as the interim PTA president. And she says she’s determined to right all the wrongs.” She takes a deep breath. “Lord knows she’s got her work cut out for her, but so far she’s done quite a lot of good things.” She grimaces a moment. “And as much as I didn’t get along with Brenda, I hate to say, without her here the air is just a little bit lighter.” She shrugs as she takes a bite out of my apple crisp. “Oh, Lottie.” Her eyes roll into the back of her head. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m putting this on the menu at the Brew Ha Ha. Of course, I’ll have to find a way to add a little beer to it. But I can’t wait to experiment in the kitchen. Thank you for inspiration.” She toasts me with it as she takes off toward the throngs of people near the silent auction.
I’m about to snatch up another apple crisp when a familiar brunette with sharp almond-shaped eyes, full pouty lips—and who could forget, buns of steel—breaks out into a fit of laughter to my left at something Rachelle seems to be telling her.
“What in the heck?” I march right over. It’s bad enough Hot Hannah has taken over my neighborhood. She’s not taking over my school. “What’s this?” I ask in lieu of a hello, and both Rachelle and Buns of Steel look equally stunned by my outburst.
Rachelle gives a nervous titter. Her blonde hair looks particularly pale and ashen, as if she’s freshly dyed it, and her crimson roots are well covered. She’s wearing her signature turtleneck in winter white with a denim dress over it. And pinned to her chest is the brooch of a red apple with what looks to be green caramel dripping down it. It’s adorable, and I’ll have to ask where she got it.
Rachelle leans my way. “Lottie, this is my friend, Hannah. Her nephew just graduated last year.”
“He’s a Yale man now.” She nods. “But I thought I’d come back to his old stomping grounds to help with the fundraiser.”
“Thank you.” I think. I can’t help but glance down at that skintight dress she’s wearing. It’s blood red, looks to be made of latex, and ends just past her steely buns, emphasizing her stellar figure. “You look fabulous.” I frown because complimenting and envying my irritating neighbor was not how I envisioned this night going.
“Thank you.” Her expression sours as she rides her eyes up and down my body. “After you pop your