That Old Black Magic Read Free Page B

at him.
    â€œI haven’t seen you before,” he called.
    â€œThat’s because I haven’t been here before,” Piper called back.
    â€œWhere are you from?”
    â€œNew Jersey.”
    â€œAnd what are you in town for?”
    â€œI’m a guest baker for Boulangerie Bertrand.”
    Why was she telling him any of this? She didn’t know this guy. If she were in New York City, she wouldn’t get into a conversation with just any stranger she met on the street. But here in New Orleans, it seemed like a natural thing to do.
    â€œIs that a beignet I see in your hand?”
    Piper smiled and nodded.
    â€œThat’s what I could use right now,” he said. “Want to meet me downstairs and we can go for a cup of coffee?”
    â€œUh, thanks, but I’m gonna have to pass,” Piper answered. The disappointed expression on the guy’s face made her add, “I’m going to take a little nap. I didn’t sleep enough last night.”
    â€œAll right, but at least tell me your name.”
    â€œPiper Donovan.”
    â€œWelcome to New Orleans, Piper Donovan. I’m Falkner—Falkner Duchamps. I give guided tours of the city. In fact, I just got back from a cemetery tour this morning. Maybe I can show you around while you’re here.”
    Piper laughed. “Who could pass up an offer to frolic in a cemetery?”
    As she waved good-bye and walked back inside, Piper thought of Jack. His quick thinking and fast actions in Sarasota the month before had saved her life. Their relationship was growing stronger and stronger, and Piper hoped it would only continue to deepen. She treasured Jack and had no desire to look elsewhere. The last thing she wanted or needed at this point was to get involved with another guy.
    She pulled out her phone and began texting: I’M HERE, JACK. IT’S GR8 BUT I MISS U ALREADY .

Chapter 6
    I n Hillwood, New Jersey, Vin Donovan finished clearing the snow off the sidewalk in front of The Icing on the Cupcake. He rested the shovel on the side of the building and scraped the bottoms of his boots back and forth across the cement before pulling open the front door. He inhaled the warm, sweet-smelling air that welcomed him inside the bakery.
    â€œThanks, honey,” called the blond, curly-haired, middle-aged woman from behind the counter as she slid a tray of sugar cookies onto a shelf. “How about a nice hot cup of coffee and a cheese Danish fresh out of the oven as your reward?”
    â€œI’m going to spread some salt out there first,” said Vin. “We don’t want anybody slipping and breaking their neck.”
    As her husband cut through the kitchen on his way to the small storage shed in the back alley, Terri waited on a customer who asked to have a simple chocolate layer cake inscribed with birthday wishes. The customer pointed to the cake she wanted. Terri took it from the display case and carried it into the kitchen.
    â€œI hate having to ask you to stop what you’re doing, Cathy,” Terri said as she put the cake down on the worktable. “But can you please write ‘Happy Birthday, Frances,’ with an e, on this?”
    â€œNo problem,” said Cathy, immediately putting down the wooden spoon and wiping her hands on her apron. “That’s what I’m here for.”
    Terri watched her assistant pick up a pastry bag full of pink icing and begin squeezing the message onto the top of the cake. Terri had to turn her head to the side and look from the corner of her eye in order to see the words take shape.
    â€œSometimes it’s just so frustrating not being able to do what I used to do,” she whispered, not wanting her husband to overhear if he came back through the kitchen.
    â€œI know,” commiserated Cathy. “But I’m just so grateful that the doctor says your macular degeneration isn’t getting worse.”
    Terri nodded. “That’s the