Baby Bundt Cake Confusion (Murder in the Mix Book 31) Page 2

  Cressida Bentley is Evie’s biological mother.

  Everly, Evie, Baxter was hidden away from Everett right up until last year because Cressida was waiting to use her like a playing card in order to winnow her way into Everett’s heart. I’ll admit, she sure waited a long time to play that card, but nonetheless Cressida has disqualified herself as mother material. She’s not interested in being Evie’s mother as much as she is in managing her. Thankfully, Everett and I have full custody of Evie now.

  I clear my throat as I enter their midst but not a fake eyelash bats my way. The women continue to ravage the men I came with as if I were nothing more than a conduit to making all their high school fantasies come true.

  Evie nudges me. “I’ve got this, Mom.” She steps into the middle of the chaos and cups her hands over her mouth. “Free Birkin bags while they last, right next to the refreshment table.” Almost every last one of them trots off in that direction. “And while you’re at it, have a slice of Bundt cake!”

  A trio of women is left in their wake. A brunette with long wavy hair and a hip-hugging red dress. And along with her are a redhead in a tiny green dress that glitters as if it were comprised solely of emeralds with shoes to match and a petite blonde in a basic black dress that looks as if she could have plucked it right out of my closet.

  The brunette with long hair laughs as a blob of socialites dashes off in the hopes of procuring a pricey handbag.

  “Some things never change.” She runs her finger down Everett’s tie. “Like my feelings for you, Essex.”

  “Essex?” Evie growls as if she was about to shank the woman.

  “Easy.” Everett’s lips flicker just this side of a smile as he steps between Evie and me—wisely, considering he’ll need a human shield to fend off his fan base. “Jasmine”—he nods to the brunette first—“Jen, Ariella, this my wife, Lemon, and my daughter, Evie.”

  The three of them gasp in unison.

  “Lottie Lemon.” I nod their way.

  Noah steps in on the other side of me and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “And Lottie is my girlfriend as well.”

  I watch as their jaws unhinge simultaneously, but neither Everett nor I deny it.

  Jasmine, the brunette stunner with the waist long hair and the dazzling green eyes, looks as if someone just asked her to swallow a live goldfish.

  “Lottie Lemon, I don’t think I care for you too much,” she teases.

  The three of them break out into a warm laugh, and oddly, it takes the edge off the rather odd introductions.

  “Nice to meet you, Lottie.” The blonde with a cherry red smile holds a hand out my way and I’m quick to shake it. “I’m Jen. Don’t let any of these women intimidate you. Obviously, you’re a real go-getter or you wouldn’t be here with the two most handsome men on your arms.”

  “Speak for yourself.” The redhead raises a brow my way. Her hair dusts her shoulders and is layered in soft waves and there’s a down-to-earth quality about her. “I’m Ariella.” She gives my hand a quick shake. “And I have to say, my husband is the most handsome of them all.” She winks over at Noah and Everett when she says it.

  Evie jolts. “Wait a minute!” Her eyes widen like a pair of golf balls as she looks to the brunette with the freakishly long hair. “You’re Jazzy Albright! You used to be on that show Money on the Med!” She lets out a howl. “I can’t believe this!” She turns and socks Everett on the arm. “How could you not tell me you went to school with someone famous?” She jumps as she turns back to the woman. “Oh my gosh, does this mean your BFF Stassi Maxwell is here? And that no-good cheat of a husband of yours, See You Later Slater Sutton?”

  The smile melts off her face as she tips her head back. “Yes, they’re both present and accounted for.”

  “No way!” Evie leaps in her heels. It’s bad enough she’s a full head taller than me without shoes, but she’s a human skyscraper with heels on. “I’ve gotta go call my friends. I’ve got to tell everyone. Carlotta and Lily!” she shouts as she takes off like an enthused bullet.

  But Jasmine doesn’t look all that enthused. And I’m guessing her cheating husband has something to do with it.

  Jen cranes her neck into the crowd. “I think I see Stassi over there.”

  “Don’t look at her.” Jasmine is quick to smack Jen on the arm before she forces a smile in my direction. “It’s common knowledge that Stassi Maxwell invited herself to my soon-to-be ex-husband. I didn’t let the fact she was coming today stop me from showing up myself. In fact, that’s all the energy I have for her this evening.” She looks to Noah and Everett. “I’d ask what’s keeping you busy these days, but well, let’s face it. Everyone has heard about your latest misfortune regarding the arrest. Who knew our two most studious graduates would find themselves on the wrong side of the law—and for body snatching no less?”

  It’s true. Everett and Noah helped me steal Florenza Canelli’s body from the morgue last January and we’ve been paying for it ever since.

  Correction, Everett is the only one feeling the heat. He’s going to trial for it next month. And even though Noah is still suspended, we suspect he’ll be back at his desk soon enough. That whole body-snatching scheme was my fault, even though both Noah and Everett agree it was Noah’s fault. I made the final call.

  It was technically Flo’s fault. She was the ghost who came back to help solve her crime—a supernatural twist in and of itself. And once she found out about the horrible casket, dress, and hairstyle her friends and family were planning for her big farewell, she demanded I steal her body until they came to their senses. In exchange, she promised not to trash my bakery, trash Everett’s judicial career, and help Noah stop a mob war. Stupid decisions were made and here we are.

  Noah takes a breath. “All of the charges will be reversed soon enough,” he assures his friends. “What’s new with you guys?”

  A smile floats back to Jasmine’s glossy pink lips. “I’m glad you asked, Noah.” The tiny white Maltese gives a few barks as if vying for her attention. “Now that we’ve wrapped up Money on the Med for good”—she leans toward the redhead—“as if I’d ever stay on with the cheat and the snake, I’ve moved on both personally and professionally. My new business, Door-to-Door Gourmet, is almost six months old and is well on its way to becoming the next Fortune 500.”

  Jen snorts. “Let’s not get carried away.” She averts her eyes before she looks to Noah. “And I’m about to open my second Hennifer’s Fried Chicken.” An easy smile glides over her lips as she looks my way. “Hennifer is a play on my name, Jennifer.”

  “That’s adorable.” I suck in a quick breath. “Wait a minute. I think I’ve heard good things about your place.” My hands float over my swollen belly because, let’s be honest, I wish I were at Hennifer’s right now.

  “That’s great,” Everett tells her. “I’ll be sure to bring Lemon by soon. We’re always looking for new places to enjoy.” He nods to the redhead to my left. “And how about you, Ariella?” There’s an edge to his voice as he asks the question and I wonder why.

  “I’m great, Everett, thank you for asking.” Ariella laughs a little as if she understood his apprehension with the question. She’s taller than the other two, her hair is a dark shade of auburn, and I suddenly have a craving to dye my hair that exact same shade. I’ve been having all sorts of off cravings as of late, so this doesn’t surprise me all that much. “I’m an attorney now.” She nods my way.

  “Oh?” I lean forward. “What kind?”

  “The unhappy kind,” she retorts. “I’ve expanded into career consultation. I’m currently helping Jazzy with her rebranding.”

  “Rebranding?” Noah looks her way.

  “That’s right.” Jasmine gives a furtive nod. “I’m not doing the vapid socialite thing anymore. I figure that’s what we have Stassi for.” Both Ariella and Jen giggle at the barb.

  A man enters our midst, tall, with the requisite dark suit. He has wavy dirty blond hair and his red face is peppered
with a five o’clock shadow. He has a broad nose, a tall forehead, and a lantern jaw, and there’s not an ounce of warmth in his eyes at all.

  “Speaking of my handsome husband.” Ariella laughs as she pulls him in. “Lottie, meet the honorable Judge Owen Kellerman.”

  The man nods my way. “Nice to meet you, Lottie.” He offers Noah an affable smile. “Fox, nice to see you again.” He turns to Everett. “Well, well, Baxter.” He belts out a hearty laugh. “If it isn’t the crooked judge.”

  “It takes one to know one.” Everett doesn’t hesitate to let the zinger fly and the mood in our circle grows tense just like that.

  Jasmine and Jen take the opportunity to step away from our group. And Ariella pulls her husband close before waving to someone in the crowd and asking us to excuse them before she whisks her rude husband off.

  I choke on an entire stream of expletives begging to rush from my throat.

  “How dare that man talk to you that way.” I shake my fist in their direction just as Carlotta runs over.

  “Where’d she go?” Carlotta has her phone out and poised as if she were about to take a picture. “Where’s Jazzy A? I haven’t missed a single episode of Money on the Med. Who knew when I signed up for cake detail I’d be lucky enough to meet the entire cast of that show centered around seaside debauchery? Did you scare her off, Lot?”

  “She wanted to get her hands on Everett,” I snip her way. “Of course, I scared her off.”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake, Lot. Let her borrow Sexy for the night. You’ve got this beefcake to foxtrot around the room with.” She smacks Noah on the stomach when she says it. “I’ve been biting my tongue long enough, but I’m just gonna come out and say it. You’re greedy! The Lemons raised you to be a silver-spooned spoiled brat. I bet they never once made you share your toys. And I bet you had two Ken dolls for your Barbie, too!”

  The tiny little pooch continues to yip and yap at our feet before barking right up at Carlotta.

  “You tell her,” I say. “See that, Carlotta? Even that silky-haired cutie thinks you’re being ridiculous. Two Ken dolls,” I huff. “So what if I did? I liked my Barbie to have a surplus of attention. It was all in fun. It’s not like that’s made me some deranged individual with lasting psychological effects.”

  I wrap my arms around my belly before dropping them because it’s sort of an antithesis to my argument at the moment. Come to think of it, my Barbie had a few children with vague paternities herself.

  Carlotta reaches down to scoop up the pooch into her arms, but the tiny beast goes right through them.

  “Uh-oh.” She rights herself with a start.

  “Carlotta”—Everett rumbles out her name without moving a muscle—“what were you trying to pick up just now?”

  Noah moans, “Let me guess, a lion? A tiger? A bear?”

  “Nope.” Carlotta digs her fists into her hips as she looks down at it. “ It’s a cute little white puppy with enough long white hair to cover all of our heads.”

  The little yippy puppy gives a few more sharp barks before disappearing in a poof of tiny pink stars.

  “There’s a ghost among us,” I say it lower than a whisper. “And you know what that means? It means murder.”

  Everett nods. “What are the odds of Owen once having a small white dog?”

  “Everett.” I wrinkle my nose at him.

  “Sorry. I can’t help it.” He glances out at the crowd of polished people. “One thing is for sure—tensions are high tonight. This could mean trouble for just about anyone.”

  Noah pulls out his phone. “I’m calling for backup. And I’m not leaving your side, Lottie. I don’t want you to worry about a single thing.”

  Carlotta sighs. “Try not to find the body until I get a few numbers from some of these good-looking men. These people have deep pockets, Lot. If you play your cards right, you might just offload me by the end of the night.”

  Considering the fact Carlotta has lived with me for the last couple of years, this would be a boon for me.

  I take a step out toward the crowd and watch the unsuspecting masses.

  That little supernatural cutie didn’t come back from the great beyond because it wanted a bite of my Bundt cake. It came back because there’s a killer on the loose.

  And soon—we’ll have a murder on our hands.

  Lottie

  The Lux Plaza Hotel is teeming with the bold, the beautiful, and those constructed mostly of plastic parts.

  The class reunion is in full swing. And just when I’m going to demand that Noah or Everett eats fried pickles with me, a disturbing force of nature unleashes in our direction—two of them to be exact.

  “Big Boss!” Cormack Featherby wastes no time in climbing Noah like a pole.

  Cormack Featherby is the exact reason why Noah and Everett held onto a rather bitter feud all these years, and although she might have started that bitter-fueled party, Noah and Everett have propagated it all on their own for the last few years. Some might say I’m partly responsible for the dissonance. They might be right.

  Cormack is your run-of-the-mill blonde socialite who is as vapid as they come. She joined Club Essex ages ago, and then just when she and Everett were making it official, Noah swooped in and stole that featherhead for himself. That was back in high school, and let’s just say Judge Baxter’s ego was bruised back in the day. And even though he got over Cormack pretty quickly, he never got over the fact he couldn’t trust Noah.

  “Essex”—Cressida, another vapid blonde with a face sculpted by a team of world-renown surgeons, steps up and runs her finger over his chest as if it belonged there—“why must you bring this engorged river rat wherever you go?” She slits a glance my way. “You do have a way of infuriating me by flaunting the fact you’re virile.”

  Carlotta chuckles. “Good one, Cress. I haven’t heard anyone call Lot Lot a river rat in a good long while.”

  “Carlotta,” I elbow her without hesitation, “no one has ever called me a river rat.”

  “I don’t dis and tell, Lot. But if I were you, I’d spend less time with me and more time fighting off these women with a stick. Sure, your men are both currently unemployed and living off your earnings, but they come by their fall from grace honestly. I’m sure their mamas warned them about spending time with a girl like you, but they marched right into your bedroom and never looked back.”

  “What are you talking about? A girl like me? A baker?”

  “Pfft.” She rolls her eyes. “Face it, Lot Lot, you’re a ball of supernatural trouble. You’ve got a spook hanging off of you more often than not, you’re a magnet for murder, and you’ve landed yourself in the middle of both a curse and a hex.”

  Sadly, I’m forced to nod into this lunacy.

  “Technically, they were both curses,” I say.

  It’s true. Last October I went messing with what I was told not to mess with—i.e., solving a murder that revolved around a notoriously cursed family, and once I did just that, both my house and Everett’s burned to the ground. After that, it was sort of hard to contest the fact the Hearst curse hadn’t landed square on my shoulders.

  And the supposed hex, well, that came by way of Cormack and Cressida after they hired their old sorority sister, Serena Digby, to do the dirty work. Basically, it had something to do with the fact trouble would follow Noah, Everett, and me to the point where neither of them would ever be mine.

  I give my belly a pat.

  Ha. I showed them, didn’t I?

  Speaking of the witchy woman, both Serena Digby and Noah’s look-alike brother, Alex, step into our midst just as I wrangle both Noah and Everett my way.

  “Hey, buddy.” Noah nods to his baby brother by one year. Alex owns a brokerage company with my sister Meg’s plus one, Hook Redwood. “Glad you could make it. Serena, you too.” Noah offers them both a simple smile.

  Alex looks dapper in a dark suit, a green tie to match his eyes, and those requisite Fox-issued dimples. And Serena is his equal in every
way with her long, dark, wavy hair, her matching green eyes, and affable smile. She’s donned a silver little dress that sizzles, and her legs look as if they’ve been sculpted out of bronze.

  “Great to see you both,” Everett says. “It’s nice that the reunion is open to everyone who went to FPA for a five-year span. It had such a small student body I was wondering how they’d fill the room.”

  “Oh, honey”—Cressida slinks back his way and attempts to swipe her claw at the stubble on his cheek, but I boldly step in front of him—“there would have been enough people if it were just you and me.”

  I scoff at the odd remark. “Cressida, you stalked me, you all but held Evie captive for the last fifteen years, and denied Everett the right to know his daughter, and you still think you’ve got a shot with him? Boy, it must be nice to live in such a delusional world.”

  “Enough, Lolita,” Cormack barks. For some reason, neither Cormack nor Cressida can keep my name straight. “Or I’ll decrease your mother’s pay and make her the new scullery maid at our quaint little haunted B&B.”

  I make a face. “It was quaint while my mother owned it.” A couple of months ago, Noah’s airheaded father talked my apparently airheaded mother into selling these two blonde bimbos my mother’s B&B. They’ve renamed and renovated it to the point where it’s wholly unrecognizable. True, it’s still haunted, but for how long only heaven knows. Greer Giles and the rest of the ghostly gang have already made it clear to me they’re not interested in sticking around under the socialites’ tyranny. “But now that you’ve got your tacky hands all over it, it’s nothing more than a cheap bordello.”

  “Ha!” Cormack bucks with a laugh. “We don’t sell lunchmeat!” She nods to her partner in socialite arms. “Remind me to ask the chef to order some of that fancy Italian lunchmeat. I’ve got a hankering for an Italian hero.” She dares to wrap her arms around Noah. “Just like I do an Irish hero.”

  “Would you”—I bat her away until she’s whimpering next to Cressida—“please leave. Don’t you have friends here you haven’t seen in ages? Why do you insist on terrorizing the fathers of my child?” More than a few heads turn this way, and I can feel the room still with tension.