Page 28 of The Best Kind of Bad

“Well, she left an entire wedding season in the lurch.”

“Wedding cakes?”

I nod. “And I saw Barb Elliot at the gas station and she was just beside herself. I guess her daughter’s wedding is next weekend and they don’t have a baker anymore. And I remembered that you’re a baker…”

“You didn’t.”

I grin. “I didn’t do a thing. But I might have mentioned that Gus Novak’s daughter had a bakery… Anyway, one thing led to another, and she’s coming over to ask for your help.”

Marnie’s expression hardens. “I don’t have a bakery anymore, Dusty. It burned down.”

The doorbell rings and I grin at her. “You can explain that to her yourself. Be warned, Barb is a force of nature. She’s hard to say no to.”

19.

Marnie

Dusty leads the way to the front door, flinging it open like he owns the place. “Mrs. Elliot. How the hell are you, ma’am?”

She narrows her eyes at his cheeky greeting, but I can see a pleased twinkle in her eye. “Good morning, Dusty.”

He steps aside and Barb’s eye falls on me. “Mrs. Elliot, I’d like to introduce Marnie Black.”

Barb’s eyes scan my face. She’s about my height, and soft looking. With curly gray hair and horn-rimmed glasses. Those lips painted a rosy pink color part in surprise. “My goodness. You look just like Naomi.”

Nowthatis a comparison I will gladly receive. While mom and I shared our dark features, she was willowy and slim and just plain beautiful. I’m the mini version. Compact. Soft features, where mom’s were sharp enough to cut steel.

“Coffee anyone?” Dusty asks, grinning. He’s clearly pleased with himself.

“That would be wonderful.” Barb says, following us into the kitchen.

She sits at the table, and I reluctantly settle into the seat across from her.

“Are you back for long?” Barb asks, still scanning my face. “You’re from Lincoln, is that right?”

“That’s right.” I shift in my chair. “I’m just here getting Uncle Gus’s things squared away and then I’ll be on my way.”

“I see.” Her eyes narrow slightly, like I’m a puzzle she plans to solve.

“Dusty mentioned you were a classmate of my mom’s?”

Her expression eases. “From kindergarten on. Although Naomi and I never ran in the same crowds.”

I paint a playful smile on my face. “Which crowds did my mom run in?”

“Oh, you know. The popular ones. Cheerleaders and jocks.” She smiles ruefully at Dusty when he places a mug in front of her. “Not unlike this little heartbreaker.”

He slides a mug in front of me, winking at Barb. “I’m as innocent as a lamb.”

“Mm-hmm.” Barb says, glancing pointedly at his earring. “Just like Runner was.”

Dusty flinches slightly before recovering. He grins at the two of us. “Well, I’ve got work to get to. You ladies all squared away?”

“We’re fine, Dusty.” Barb says. “You stay cool, you hear?”

“I’ll try, Mrs. Elliot.”

She watches him retreat, shaking her head with a grin on her face. “Just like his father.”

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