Ganache with Panache: Book 2 in The Chocolate Cafe Series by Valley Sams

Mac’s arm. Her nails bit into her skin, pressing through the tee shirt fabric.
    “I don’t play,” she hissed. “The Hoods don’t play. Not only will you get your friend Vanessa to design Harper’s gown, but you’ll have your little girlfriend Sabrina focus on our event entirely.”
    “Are you kidding?” Mac tried to pull away from Olivia, but the older woman only squeezed harder.
    “The only wedding party getting catered by your company is ours and the only gown getting custom made in this little hick village is Harper’s. That is the end of the discussion.”
    Olivia nodded at Harper who pulled the Range Rover to the side of the road. Harper reached across Mac, opened the door, and unlocked Mac’s seatbelt. A gust of ocean air filled the car. They were so far down the beach at this point that it would take Mac at least half an hour to get back to town.
    “It would be in all of your best interests to take this seriously,” Olivia announced. “And I am most certainly NOT kidding.”
    Harper suddenly pushed the speechless Mac from the car. Mac tumbled awkwardly out, almost twisting her ankle on the ledge at the side of the car. She stared, dumbstruck, at the two triumphant immobile faces as the passenger door swung shut.
    “Enjoy the rest of your run” Harper said sweetly. She slammed the tank of a car into gear. Gravel from the roadside exploded from the wheels, showering Mac’s still-sweaty body with shards and dust.
    As they drove away, leaving Mac abandoned on the side of the road, Harper rolled down her tinted window. The sunrise glinted off her engagement ring as she waved a graceful goodbye.
     

CHAPTER NINE
    The view from Vanessa’s old apartment in the city had been of the back of a government-subsidized retirement home—not the most uplifting of vistas. She had started every morning standing at her own small, cracked window with a cup of tea in her hands. She waited there until she had a chance to wave to at least a half dozen of the tenants. She couldn’t start work if she didn’t. Vanessa needed those toothless smiles. She had to have the slack-muscled waves in order to know her day had started.
    Now, rather than crumbling brick and graffiti, Vanessa had the ocean to greet and inspire her. Not that she needed it. Her one afternoon with Amelia in the magical garden was enough to set Vanessa’s imagination off and running. After ten long years designing for shallow, cruel people, it was a gift to create something that would not only be appreciated, but cherished. She felt a little guilty even taking money for it.
    Vanessa took a deep sip of her warm tea. She had two hours before she had to open the shop which, judging by the amount of ideas she had in her head, would be plenty of time to design a dress worthy of the kind and almost unsettlingly charming Miss Amelia.
    Waving to a seagull (old habits die hard), Vanessa turned to her drafting board and desk. She wrapped her housecoat around her a bit tighter before sitting down. Like Sabrina, she had made the top of her shop her studio. However, she had found the warped old wood and chilly drafts so inspiring that she had lugged her mattress up there as well. It felt like her own little crow’s nest where she could collect all the interesting and beautiful things that caught her eye.
    She placed a piece of spotless paper on the drafting board and clicked the light on above. As she reached for her jar of pencils and watercolor pens, her cell phone came alive on the desk beside her.
    Really? At 6:30 in the morning? Everyone she knew in the city would still be sleeping off a night of drinking and being seen.
    Not surprisingly, the caller ID read ‘unavailable’.
    “Hello.” Vanessa said. She put the phone on speaker as she prepared her tools. There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Hello?” Vanessa said again.
    A muffled, slurred voice came through the speaker. “Stay away from Amelia Moore.”
    Vanessa froze, a pencil sharpener