Eggnog Cookies at Eleven by Cecilia Farrell

Author:Cecilia Farrell [Farrell, Cecilia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sweet Christmas romance; paranormal holiday fantasy; cozy haunted house mystery; ghost psychic; women's fiction humor; mistletoe love; Toronto fiction
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2022-08-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

Since it was nearly suppertime and the café wasn’t that busy, Trent managed to secure their usual table at the Moonbeam Café. But Margot had texted she’d be late. He’d already drunk a jumbo gingerbread latte and practically inhaled two chocolate chip cookies, plus a blueberry muffin, before she breezed into the café, waved at him, and paused to get her usual peppermint hot chocolate at the counter.

Trent wiped at his mouth in case a coffee foam moustache and stray crumbs had taken up residence. He smiled as she sat with her drink.

“How goes the architect biz?” Margot asked.

“Working hard on the design for some rent-geared-to-income modular housing. The non-profit that hired me has a strict budget, so it’s a challenge. Not one I’d ever get working for my father, that’s for sure. You?”

“Did I tell you I got the contract with Clementine Cards?” She sipped her hot chocolate.

“No! That’s fantastic, Margot. We need to celebrate. How about dinner tonight?”

“I’ve a better idea.” She smiled. “Why don’t you come over to my place for dinner? Not sure what’s in the pantry, but I bet I could rustle something up for a homecooked meal. Oh, how about a stir fry? Beef teriyaki? And maybe English trifle for dessert? How cosmopolitan is that?” Her grin broadened and her green eyes lit up.

“English trifle?”

Suddenly he remembered his missing book. The last time he saw it was in the café, right? Did she find it? Even worse, did she read any of it? Surely if Margot found the book, she’d have returned it to him. Doubtful that Architects of London was her type of reading material. The odds of her even finding the relevant text were so small…

He relaxed. “I don’t think I’ve ever had English trifle.”

Trent pretended to drink from his now empty jumbo cup, snatching a moment to think. Good thing Moonbeam had foam cups and plastic lids instead of mugs for their bigger drinks. And that he left the lid in place. He didn’t want to go to the carriage house, especially in the evening. It was childish, he knew, but something spooked the previous renters and the place always did give him the creeps.

“I don’t want to put you to any bother with cooking. I know you’re busy.”

“We could order in.” Her gaze shifted briefly left then returned to his face.

Trent swore she was trying to hide a sly smile behind the cup. “I’d really like to take you out. Thai, Italian, cheeseburgers and sweet potato fries, whatever you’d like.”

“Angel hair pasta with garlic shrimp and cherry tomatoes, with a green salad, preferably with arugula, apple, celery, and walnuts in it? And chocolate tiramisu for dessert?”

“That’s quite specific,” Trent said. “Also sounds quite good.”

“It was something my late granny liked.” She giggled, a lilting sound.

He liked that very much too.

“We must go to Little Italy,” Margot said.

****

Since the movie theater was near the restaurant, with gentle prodding on Margot’s part, they decided to take in a show too. Letting Trent pick the film wasn’t a sign of guilt for what was about to happen later.

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