“May I ask why not?”
Because she planned on being in a secure full-time job soon to appease her father so she could get her trust fund. But Caden didn’t need to know that. “No, you may not.”
“All right then.” Caden sounded as if he was satisfied with her response, but the mischievous twinkle
in his chocolaty-brown eyes told her something else. “Let’s get these cupcakes onto the...what? Truck?”
“That’s the tricky part. Vonna doesn’t have a truck. Just a delivery person who apparently is me today, since all my help called in sick.”
“On the day of the fair.” Caden glanced around the bakery. A gurgle of laughter came out as if he finally understood her frustration. “On a day like today.”
“I have my Jeep,” said Maggie. “I’ve got to get them in the back.”
Cade shook his head from side to side. “Why don’t you let me load them?”
After all he’d done, Maggie didn’t see why she couldn’t let him. She could at least take a shower and be ready for the fair. Twisting her lips, Maggie eventually sighed and nodded her head. “I can jump in the shower really quick.”
“There’s a shower?” Caden wiggled his eyebrows.
Maggie responded with an eye roll while digging into the front of her jean shorts. “Here are the keys to my Jeep.”
“Vrroom.” Caden sounded off then did a hand-gesture dance. She gave him a scowl. “Not a fan of Missy Elliott?”
“Let’s have her sing it,” Maggie laughed. Her shoulders relaxed, knowing the hard part of her day was over and she’d survived. A hot shower and an even hotter cup of coffee called her name. It would take Caden a good twenty minutes or so to get loaded and give her enough time to enjoy a moment of silence.
“All right,” said Caden, bringing her out of her train of thought, “when I go off in concert with her...”
“Save yourself the embarrassment.” Maggie gave him a wink. “I’ve already done it.”
“Damn hologram, wasn’t it?”
Maggie moved toward the double French doors. “I’ll never tell.”
Turning her back to him, Maggie smiled into the dining area. She moved behind the counter where the red light of the coffeepot drew her.
“A smile like that—”
“Jesus!” Maggie exclaimed, fumbling to hit the light switch. “Auntie Bren?”
“—should come from a woman who just had an orgasm, not a conversation.”
With the light on, Maggie found her aunt perched at a booth, sitting alone with a black-white-and-pink-checkered mug steaming in front of her. As usual, not a red hair was out of place, and her purple lace collar was buttoned up to her neck. The rock on her ring finger gleamed in the sparse morning light spilling through the closed hot-pink blinds.
“Why are you here?” Maggie asked someone for the second time this morning. “Or better yet, how did you get in here?”
“Vonna and I have an understanding.”
“Meaning you own a front door key.”
Auntie Bren turned to face Maggie with a coy look upon her face. “Are you going to go to Savannah and see Kit Archibald?”
“How—?” Maggie’s question died on her tongue. “It is rude to eavesdrop.”
“However it may be, you need to visit Kit.”
“I’d love to, but when Vonna gets back, I’m sure she’s going to let me go from here after the fiasco yesterday.” Maggie reached for the pot of coffee and grabbed an upside-down mug from the drying rack and a spoon before heading over to Auntie Bren’s table.
“I’ve never been wrong in my advice,” Auntie Bren began.