“These are every bit as good as the raspberry ones.” Julie finished her last bite and dusted powdered sugar from her fingers.
“Take the rest home, Julie,” said Chase. The sweetness, offset by the dusky walnut taste, lingered in her mouth. “They’re in a plastic box on the counter inside.”
The women sat sipping lemongrass tea on Chase’s balcony. The temperature had dropped with the sun and they were wrapped in sweaters.
“We won’t be able to sit out here in another month or so,” Julie said. Chase’s best friend bore a family resemblance to Anna, her grandmother. Both women were shorter than Chase’s five six and they had the same periwinkle-blue eyes. Anna’s short bob was gray, while Julie’s was still dark brown, since she was exactly Chase’s age.
Chase warmed her fingers on her mug as a gust of brisk air hurtled down the street. “We almost can’t sit here tonight. I wonder if we’re getting a cold snap.”
“I’ll stop by the grocery store on my way in tomorrow morning,” Anna said, “to pick up coconut extract and some dried pineapple. I think we have everything else in the shop for the new recipe.”
The plastic bin of Hula Bars lay on the counter, unguarded. The kitchen, indeed the whole apartment, smelled like goodness. The sweet scent tickled the nose of the hungry cat. He wondered why the food and the snacks were so poor lately. Following the enticing odor, he jumped up and explored the countertop. It was no problem to bat the container to the floor, where the lid popped off and the contents were strewed across the tiles.
“I’m going to have another half cup,” Chase said, rising. “Anybody want more?”
She saw them both shake their bobbed heads in the dark, lit only by the light spilling from the living room French doors. They were two warm, wonderful friends and she loved them both.
When she got to the kitchen, she spied the remains of Anna’s creation on the floor and let out a squeal. Quincy had polished off at least two of the cookie bars. The cat glanced up, blinked, and sauntered away to clean his whiskers.
“What am I going to do with you, Fat Cat?” She picked up the mangled treats and dumped them in the trash. “Sorry, Julie,” she called. “Quincy ruined them. You can pick some up at the shop tomorrow.” She cuddled her cat for a moment. She didn’t want him to feel bad. He was bound to be ravenous until his weight went down.
After Anna and Julie departed, Chase poured a glass of pinot noir and rested her feet on the hassock in front of her favorite stuffed chair. She loved her living room every bit as much as her shop. It was decorated in mocha and cinnamon tones, with the soft leather couch being her big splurge. Framed Impressionist prints she’d picked up at the Art Institute of Chicago—the one place in Chicago she missed—graced the walls. She braced as Quincy pounced into her lap, his purr motor on high. Had he gained a pound already?
• • •
Laci Carlson, one of the two sales counter helpers at the Bar None, stared at the bags on Quincy’s shelf in the shop kitchen. “Quincy isn’t out of cat food. Why did you buy so much more?” Laci, who had recently graduated from high school, was petite and delicate, with huge sky-blue eyes, and insisted on curling her long, naturally straight hair every night. By now, early afternoon, it was beginning to lose the curl.
The cat being discussed was safely latched in the office, where he spent his days during business hours. “He’s on a diet,” Chase said. “Do you think he’s all that fat?”
The other salesgirl burst into the kitchen from the front. “There you are.” She stabbed a long, thin finger at Laci. “Have I not told you a dozen times to put the checks under the twenties? And to write down the driver’s license and phone number?”
Laci wilted a bit before the taller woman. “I forgot, Violet.” She fingered the edge of her Bar None smock. The identical smocks, mulberry-colored and edged with pink rickrack, had been embroidered with the Bar None name and logo by a friend of Anna’s named Willow Vanderling, who lived in Pennsylvania. On the two women, they seemed like completely different garments. Vi’s looked sleek on her taller, more elegant frame, and the first thing you noticed about Laci’s was the trim, the color picked up by her pink blouse with frothy white lace edging. She favored frilly pastel tops with pearl buttons at the cuffs.
“I’ll handle this, Vi,” Chase said to the tall, self-assured woman.
Violet huffed and turned toward the salesroom.
“You really do have to—” began Chase.
“I know, I know. Violet just makes me so nervous. I’d rather work when she’s not here. It’s so nice and peaceful when she goes on break.”
“We’ll go back to the old schedule next week, but I need both of you now. You know how many dessert bars we sell to the parents when students are moving onto campus.”
Laci slunk through the swinging double doors to the front, the salesroom. Chase, alone now in her kitchen, reached for one of her large stainless mixing bowls and got down bins of brown sugar, flour, and baking powder from the open shelves that lined one wall of the no-nonsense kitchen. She stuck the conglomeration under her commercial mixer, set it whirring, and opened the refrigerator to pull out the shortbread base she had baked yesterday for Cherry Cheesecake Dream Bars, one of their specialties.
Anna Larson came through the back door while Chase was breaking eggs into a smaller bowl.
“Is that Doris Naughtly’s Beemer I saw out front?” asked Anna.
“If it is, I won’t stop her from shopping with us, Anna.”
“I know she spends plenty of money here,” said Anna, “but I still wish she’d take her business elsewhere.” Her frown made it clear that Doris’s car being in front didn’t make her happy.
Chase knew a little about their old feud, but would like to get the whole story. She made a mental note to work on that one day soon, then started mixing in the eggs. “Can I help you carry anything?”
“Could you bring the sodas in from my car? I’ll take over your mixing. What is it?”
“Cherry Cheesecake Dream Bars. I’ll get one of the girls to help me carry them.”
Anna bought several cases of soda every week. The college kids liked carbonated drinks with their sweet treats.
Chase pushed through the swinging doors. She loved the front of the shop. The décor had been left up to her and she was pleased with the way it had turned out. The walls, striped with the colors of raspberry and vanilla, stood behind low shelves painted cotton candy–pink. The glass display case glowed from the lights within, illuminating trays of Lemon Bars, gooey Oatmeal Raspberry Jam Bars, and a colorful array of other flavors, from pink lemonade to margarita cheesecake.
There were several customers in the shop, but only one was ready to buy. Doris Naughtly stood before the glass case, one hand on her hip, the other waving her diamonds at the tray of Lemon Bars. Violet was waiting on her, so Chase looked around for Laci to come help her unload. She found her behind a tall display of boxed treats on a table near the front talking to Ted Naughtly, their heads close together.
That romance seemed to be heating up. Ted, Doris’s son, seemed like a nice enough kid, but had been sent home from Purdue in December, the middle of his sophomore year. His father, the owner of the second-floor donut shop a few doors away on Fourteenth Street, railed to all who would listen that the grading was probably unfair, the professors must have had it in for his kid. Flunking out didn’t seem to bother Ted nearly as much as it did his father.
“Don’t you want some Peanut Butter Fudge Bars for your husband, Mrs. Naughtly?” Violet asked.
That girl was a crack saleswoman. Chase was so glad she worked in the Bar None.
Chase turned to look at Doris before she followed Laci into the kitchen. Doris hadn’t answered. The woman had a sour expression on her perfectly made-up face. She pursed her lined lips for a moment. “We are no longer together.”