“You’re here to give me a cooking lesson?”
It would probably be easier. “No. Just
talking about something we both know. The flour and the yeast are just ingredients. We get to decide if they turn into bread, or biscuits, or
Jennie’s rock-hard cookies.”
Amusement shaded Lizard’s mind. “If you make me produce cookie rocks, I’m moving out.”
This talking in paragraphs was challenging. Caro pushed on. “Our pasts are kind of like
ingredients. Elsie can’t change
not having a father, but she can decide how she mixes it up. Whether she’s making bread or rocks. So can you.”
Lizard froze, merriment draining from her eyes. For a long, long time, she said nothing.
Caro wished desperately for a pair of knitting needles.
Finally the girl’s mind opened, just a sliver. “You’re a sneaky witch.”
“So I’ve been told.” Caro reached for the baguette. “Want some bread?”
“Yeah.” Lizard was
quiet for a long time again. “Thanks.”
For a woman of few words, that was all that needed to be said.
Chapter 9
Lizard climbed the steps of the warehouse where Josh’s company offices
lived, cursing elevators, business suits, and leftover details for the client
from hell that had kept her distracted enough she’d completely blanked on the
investor meeting. Until she’d gone
down for breakfast and found Elsie’s reminder note stuck to the fridge.
At which point the whole sad, deluded project had exploded back
in her brain.
Josh was a nice guy. A smart guy. And he wasn’t
peddling her a pile of crap on purpose. But people just didn’t offer millions of dollars to delinquents. Hell, people didn’t offer that kind of
money to anyone, even if she dressed up and didn’t scowl and told them her name
was Liz.
She’d faked it for Claire Jameson, but she was going to get a
big, fat commission out of that one.
This maps thing was just what Grammie would have called “pure
horse manure.”
And if you had to wade through crap, you might as well dress for
it.
Lizard hit the fourth floor gasping for air. Dammit. Thanks to her cushy job, she now had the lung capacity of an
emphysemic eighty-year-old. Life
just got better and better. She’d
probably have to go to one of those spinning classes or something, where skinny
type-A women peddled as fast as humanly possible without going anywhere.
Seriously—who peddled a hundred miles an hour to nowhere?
Stupid fracking day.
“Good morning,” said an amused voice over her shoulder. Nice delinquent regalia there.
Lizard scowled down at her outfit. It had taken some serious work to find it at the bottom of
her closet. “Josh said I could
wear whatever I wanted.”
Jamie looked down at his jeans and T-shirt. “He said I could, too.”
Wait. What the hell
was Jamie doing in Josh’s building? Why are you here?
“I heard there’s a meeting to invest in your maps idea. If you’re here, I figure my
information’s probably right.”
Lizard stared. The
investors are supposed to be rich old guys in suits.
Jamie looked down at his clothes again and grinned. Apparently Josh isn’t as picky about
his investors as you are.
Okay, first Elsie, and now Jamie. This was ridiculous. “This could be a big, fat, stinking failure. You have a baby coming and everything. You can’t afford to do this.” Did no one in Witch Central have any
brains?
An arm settled around her shoulders. “We try not to scare the investors away before they even get
in the room.” Josh reached out to
shake Jamie’s hand.
“I’m not taking money from my friends.” Lizard wiggled out from under his arm,
turned, and glared, ready to do battle. “I thought you said you knew rich guys.”
Josh shrugged. “Anyone
with boatloads more money than I have qualifies as rich. Come on in to the meeting
room—there are several other people here
It would probably be easier. “No. Just
talking about something we both know. The flour and the yeast are just ingredients. We get to decide if they turn into bread, or biscuits, or
Jennie’s rock-hard cookies.”
Amusement shaded Lizard’s mind. “If you make me produce cookie rocks, I’m moving out.”
This talking in paragraphs was challenging. Caro pushed on. “Our pasts are kind of like
ingredients. Elsie can’t change
not having a father, but she can decide how she mixes it up. Whether she’s making bread or rocks. So can you.”
Lizard froze, merriment draining from her eyes. For a long, long time, she said nothing.
Caro wished desperately for a pair of knitting needles.
Finally the girl’s mind opened, just a sliver. “You’re a sneaky witch.”
“So I’ve been told.” Caro reached for the baguette. “Want some bread?”
“Yeah.” Lizard was
quiet for a long time again. “Thanks.”
For a woman of few words, that was all that needed to be said.
Chapter 9
Lizard climbed the steps of the warehouse where Josh’s company offices
lived, cursing elevators, business suits, and leftover details for the client
from hell that had kept her distracted enough she’d completely blanked on the
investor meeting. Until she’d gone
down for breakfast and found Elsie’s reminder note stuck to the fridge.
At which point the whole sad, deluded project had exploded back
in her brain.
Josh was a nice guy. A smart guy. And he wasn’t
peddling her a pile of crap on purpose. But people just didn’t offer millions of dollars to delinquents. Hell, people didn’t offer that kind of
money to anyone, even if she dressed up and didn’t scowl and told them her name
was Liz.
She’d faked it for Claire Jameson, but she was going to get a
big, fat commission out of that one.
This maps thing was just what Grammie would have called “pure
horse manure.”
And if you had to wade through crap, you might as well dress for
it.
Lizard hit the fourth floor gasping for air. Dammit. Thanks to her cushy job, she now had the lung capacity of an
emphysemic eighty-year-old. Life
just got better and better. She’d
probably have to go to one of those spinning classes or something, where skinny
type-A women peddled as fast as humanly possible without going anywhere.
Seriously—who peddled a hundred miles an hour to nowhere?
Stupid fracking day.
“Good morning,” said an amused voice over her shoulder. Nice delinquent regalia there.
Lizard scowled down at her outfit. It had taken some serious work to find it at the bottom of
her closet. “Josh said I could
wear whatever I wanted.”
Jamie looked down at his jeans and T-shirt. “He said I could, too.”
Wait. What the hell
was Jamie doing in Josh’s building? Why are you here?
“I heard there’s a meeting to invest in your maps idea. If you’re here, I figure my
information’s probably right.”
Lizard stared. The
investors are supposed to be rich old guys in suits.
Jamie looked down at his clothes again and grinned. Apparently Josh isn’t as picky about
his investors as you are.
Okay, first Elsie, and now Jamie. This was ridiculous. “This could be a big, fat, stinking failure. You have a baby coming and everything. You can’t afford to do this.” Did no one in Witch Central have any
brains?
An arm settled around her shoulders. “We try not to scare the investors away before they even get
in the room.” Josh reached out to
shake Jamie’s hand.
“I’m not taking money from my friends.” Lizard wiggled out from under his arm,
turned, and glared, ready to do battle. “I thought you said you knew rich guys.”
Josh shrugged. “Anyone
with boatloads more money than I have qualifies as rich. Come on in to the meeting
room—there are several other people here
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