I buttoned myself into my chef coat. “There’s something about Wulf that takes my breath away. He’s never done anything to actually hurt me, but he still scares the heck out of me.”
“He burned you! You have a scar on your hand.”
“Aside from that.”
Glo walked in, set Broom in the corner, and hung her tote bag on a hook by the door. “I came in early for doughnuts. Who are we talking about?”
“Wulf,” I told her.
“He’s very hot,” Glo said. “He’s like a vampire. Dominant and sensual and scary. It’s like, have you ever been on the Hulk roller coaster at Universal? It’s terrifying and a total rush, and when you get off, your pants are wet and you can’t figure out if it’s because of this or that.”
“Happens to me on the 1A when I have to go around those rotaries during rush hour,” Clara said.
I didn’t have any comparable experiences to share, so I hauled out a bag of flour and set it on my workstation.
“How was your date with the bellringer?” I asked Glo.
“It was wonderful,” she said. “He’s so cute. And he’s smart. And he knows everything there is to know about bells. I think Broom liked him, too. Broom didn’t whack him or anything. I honestly think he might be the one.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
It was eleven-thirty, and there were no customers in the shop. Clara and I were done baking and starting final cleanup, and Glo poked her head through the doorway.
“That scary woman is back,” Glo said. “The one who feels like Darth Vader. She wants to talk to Lizzy.”
“Deirdre Early?” I asked.
“Yes!”
Early’s glossy black hair was perfect, swept back behind one ear. Her makeup was dramatic and flawless. Her red knit suit was probably designer, but I didn’t know which one. Her demeanor was ice queen.
“We have a problem,” she said to me. “I’d like to speak to you in private.”
“I’ll help Clara,” Glo said, escaping into the kitchen.
I kept the counter between us. “What did you want to talk about?”
“You’re still assisting Diesel, even after I warned you.”
“I’m not assisting him,” I said. “We’re partners.”
“Oh please, look at you. You bake cupcakes. You’re nothing more than a minion, like that idiot Hatchet.”
“Is there a point to this?”
Her eyes dilated black. “The point is that you have a choice to make. You can be my minion or you can die.”
“Diesel wouldn’t be happy about either of those choices.”
“When I get the stone, Diesel will be enslaved to me.”
“And Wulf?”
“Wulf as well. Every man and woman on this planet will desire me to the point of insanity.”
Oh boy, I thought, she was nutty as a fruitcake and probably a homicidal maniac.
“You seem like a reasonable person,” I said to her. “Why don’t you let me give you a box of cupcakes, on the house, and you can go home and think about all this. I mean, you might not want me as a minion. I’m not that good at subservience.”