Cupcakes, Butterflies & Dead Guys by Jennifer Fischetto

Author:Jennifer Fischetto
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: romantic suspense, humor, paranormal, ghost, fashion, cozy
Publisher: Gemma Halliday Publishing

* * *

The next morning at the deli, business is super slow. Snow has been steadily falling for the past thirty minutes. The flakes are small and slow, but I've no doubt it'll be a sticky mess. I sadly think of my boots.

Ma's at the other side of the counter, wiping down invisible fingerprints or dust. She likes to keep busy. I would drag out a stool from the kitchen and sit on it while liking and sharing Facebook posts on my cell, if she'd allow it. She doesn't. She feels it looks tacky. I get it, but we haven't seen a customer for twenty minutes. Ham and Swiss on rye doesn't seem necessary during a snowstorm.

Tomorrow is my first event with Valentina. I keep having to remind myself. With everything going on, it's easy to forget. The added bonus is that when I do remember, I get excited all over again.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me that Mitchell was around," Ma says while frantically scrubbing the heck out of nothing.

I wondered when she'd bring it up.

Normally I work second shift, which means I arrive as Izzie's leaving and only see Ma a few minutes before Pop shows up. Thursday is one of Izzie's days off. I come in a little earlier than usual. I have another hour before Ma and Pop play musical shifts.

I half expected her to mention Aunt Stella as soon as I walked in the door, but she didn't. After Aunt Stella disappeared from Ma's kitchen yesterday, the subject died down. Not because everyone was done talking about it, I'm sure, but because Aunt Angela was stunned. I didn't want to contribute to her passing out or having a heart attack, and I guess the others felt the same way.

Enzo quickly said his good-byes, and I took that opportunity to sneak out with him.

"You have nothing to say?" Ma asks.

I shut my eyes for a moment to clear my head. I don't want to get into another argument with her. "I'm sorry. But in my defense, I didn't know he was someone from Aunt Stella's past. I was shocked to find that out."

Ma seems moderately pleased that this hasn't been a conspiracy against her. "And he came back? How does that happen?"

I shrug. I've contemplated this many times, but I'm not an expert. And I've no idea who makes the rules.

She nervously glances over her shoulder toward the door that leads to the kitchen. I assume she's thinking of all the dead people who have walked past her and Pop on the way to the freezer. She's not usually squeamish or scared easily. She's a Mama Bear and has a basement full of items that once belonged to murder victims and-slash-or their killers. But maybe this is too much, too real, and I shouldn't have told her.

"How's Aunt Angela?"

Ma finally stops scrubbing, stands straight, and lets out a deep breath. "I spent the night getting the cold shoulder."

That must be a family trait because Ma is famous at giving them out as gifts as well.

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