Death by the Dozen Read Free Page A

would all come out friends at the end of it.
    It had been the three of them against the world for as long as she could remember. Then Tate had gotten engaged, and Angie had finally come clean to Mel about her feelings for him. She was in love with Tate and had been since they were kids. Oy.
    But after his tragically ended engagement, Tate, being a typical male, had wallowed and whined and refused even to consider dating anyone ever again. Then Roach had come to town and swept Angie off her feet. Now Tate had come to realize that he was in love with her, too, but so far he had not declared himself but sat ever hopeful, waiting for Angie’s relationship to implode.
    It was only a matter of time before the situation was resolved. Roach had asked Angie to move back to Los Angeles with him, but she had told him she wanted to wait until he was done with his current tour. Mel knew that once Roach was back, decisions would have to be made.
    Mel hated the idea of losing her best friend and partner, but Tate had it much worse. He stood to lose the love of his life without ever having told her how he felt.
    “He’ll call,” he said sourly. “He’d be an idiot to let her go.”
    Mel reached over and patted his shoulder. “Hang in there, champ.”
    “I have a choice?”
    “No.”
    “Okay, I’ve worked out a schedule,” Angie said as she came bustling back through the kitchen door. She was carrying a clipboard and had a red pen in her hand. “We have three weeks, and we’re going to need every second of them.”
    “Three weeks for what?” Mel asked.
    “Until the competition,” Angie said. “Now here’s what I was thinking. We get up at four thirty every day and—”
    “In the morning?” Mel asked in horror. The only part of running a bakery that didn’t suit her was the early mornings.
    “Yep,” Angie said, plowing on and ignoring her. “Tate will drop off a bag of mystery ingredients, and we’ll set the timer to give ourselves one hour to whip up a fabulous dessert.”
    “And we can’t do this during regular operating hours because . . .”
    “We need to have complete, uninterrupted focus,” Angie said. “Tate, can we count on you?”
    “Absolutely,” he said. “Any idea what the mystery ingredients should be?”
    “If I gave you a list, they wouldn’t exactly be a mystery, now would they?” Angie asked. “However, I made a list of everything they’ve used over the past five years, so that should give you some ideas.”
    Tate took the list she handed him and scanned it. “Why are pickles on this list?”
    Angie gave a long-suffering sigh. “Because that was one of the mystery ingredients one year.”
    “For the pastry competition, really?” Mel asked.
    “They try to make it difficult,” Angie said. “Have you even looked at any of the information I’ve given you?”
    “Yeah . . . uh . . . no,” she admitted.
    “How do you expect to cream Olivia’s tartar if you don’t study up?” Angie asked. “You can’t just waltz in there and expect to win, you know.”
    “I don’t expect it to be easy. I’ve just had other—” Mel began, but Angie interrupted, “I know. Now that you and Joe are finally together, you are useless. You know, I have a good mind to ban you from seeing Joe until this competition is over.”
    Mel opened her mouth then shut it quickly before something better left unsaid flew out. She and Angie locked stares. They’d been doing this since grade school. Whoever blinked first lost, not only the staring contest, but also the argument.
    “Would you look at the time?” Tate asked without consulting his watch or a clock. “I’d better get back to the office. So, I’ll see you tomorrow morning at four thirty. Bye.”
    Mel felt her eyes begin to burn. It was agony.
    “You blinked,” Angie said. She spun on her heel and stomped back to the kitchen.
    Mel turned and glared at Tate’s retreating back. Big coward!

    “ Hey, Cupcake,wake up,”a voice whispered in