Page 113 of Cold As Ice

The ding of the doorbell drew my attention, and I watched as Harper, her friend Rory, and a teenage boy entered the shop.

“Madison,” Harper beamed. “We were hoping you’d be here.”

“I’m actually just about to go off shift.”

“Really? Maybe you can join us?”

“I—”

“Mommy, Mommy. Mrs. Owens says I’m the bestest helper she evers had.”

“She did, huh.” I leaned over the counter and gave Immy my full attention. “Well done, baby. Go wash up, and I’ll see if I can find you a cupcake.”

“One withs sprinkles?”

“One with sprinkles, baby. Now go wash up so I can serve these customers.”

“Oh my God. She’s adorable,” Rory said, watching Imogen bounce off toward the back.

“I’m hungry,” the boy said. “You said we could get a cake.”

“And we can,” Harper said. “Which one do you want?”

He studied the glass cabinet, his brows furrowed with concentration.

“The red velvet is really good, or maybe the cookies and cream,” I offered. “What do you like?”

“I like cake. But it can’t have the cross-taminations.”

“Cross-tam—”

“It’s okay, buddy. Madison and her boss Kayleigh are very good for people like me.”

“People like—”

“I’m celiac, so Scottie knows how important it is for me to avoid gluten.”

“She gets sick. Once she got so sick my brother had to carry her into the house, and then they had the sex in—”

“Excuse Scottie.” She gently covered his mouth with her hand. “Why don’t you and Rory go see the cats, and I’ll order for us.”

“Come on, bud. You can tell me all about your latest collector cards. I heard you got some for your birthday.” Rory guided him toward an empty table.

“You’ll have to excuse his lack of filter. He’s autistic,” Harper explained.

A shriek filled the shop, startling us. But when I looked over toward Rory and Scottie, the blonde whirlwind at their table was smiling excitedly.

“Oh God, I apologize. Imogen can be a handful.”

“It’s fine. Scottie is surprisingly good with young kids. Look.”

We both watched with rapt fascination as Imogen tugged Scottie down onto a huge beanbag, and the two of them began petting the cats.

“What can I get you all?”

Harper rattled off their order, and I set about preparing it, keeping one eye on Imogen. But she was all too happy chatting away to Scottie and Mrs. Owens, holding court like she owned the damn place.

Gosh, I was going to have my hands full when she was older. She was so headstrong and confident.

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