Read Online For Better or Worsted by Betty Hechtman - Free Book Online Page B

hadn’t thought about the food.
    “You know cupcakes are quite the thing these days,” she said. Then she said she’d be interested in hearing how the party went. “It sounds like a fun idea, and it might work for something I’m planning.”
    I thanked her and gave her one of the store’s business cards after writing “Parties with a Purpose” on the back. More things I hadn’t thought about. If this was going to be a business, we would need to make up a brochure and add the information to our website. But first I needed to pull off Lyla’s party.
    Cupcakes were a perfect idea. I considered talking to our barista and cookie baker Bob about doing them in-house. But for this first party, I didn’t want to take any chances and decided Caitlyn’s Cupcakes was the way to go.
    As soon as I could take a break, I walked down the street and crossed Ventura. Caitlyn’s was on the corner. The building had housed several different businesses in the past, but had been redone to accommodate the cupcake bakery. The front had been made into a retail area with cases of different kinds of cupcakes. A number of tables shaped liked giant cupcakes were sprinkled around on the black-and-white tiled floor, and a bar with stools faced the window. The back two-thirds of the building was where they did the baking.
    I had hoped it would be quiet when I went in so I could discuss all the possibilities with Caitlyn, but the place was crowded. A line of people were waiting to be served and all the tables were filled. It smelled delicious and reminded me that I’d missed lunch. The only thing I could do was join the line and wait.
    It was a neighborhood place and the atmosphere was friendly, which meant that everyone was talking to everyone else while they waited. I shouldn’t have been surprised that the topic of conversation was Thursday’s wedding. It had all the makings of a conversation piece. It was local, it was weird and murder was involved.
    “The TV newspeople are calling it ‘nuptial nightmare.’ Did you see the photo of the mother of the bride sitting in the wedding cake, holding the bloody knife?” a woman said.
    “I heard her referred to as the murderer-in-law,” another woman said. “The newspeople love catchy phrases.”
    Someone else brought up the shapewear defense, and someone else said the same thing had happened to her. “I couldn’t even lift my arms enough to dance with my son at his wedding.”
    I was glad I didn’t have Thursday with me. It would have been her worst nightmare.
    The line moved up slowly, and then even when they’d gotten their cupcakes, people stood off to the side continuing the conversation. The place had become so popular that Caitlyn had hired more baking help and several part-time people to man the counter. Since I was a regular customer, I knew all the counter help. I saw that Kirsty Frazier was assisting Caitlyn today. It was nothing personal, but I hoped when my turn came I’d get Caitlyn, since she was truly a cupcake expert.
    “I was at the reception,” the woman behind me said. Everyone turned to face her and began to shoot questions at her. I scrutinized her as well to see if I recognized her. She was blond with some help, somewhere in her forties with an overeagerness about her. It was obvious she liked being in the center of the discussion as she gave details about the event in the tent. Someone mentioned that she’d heard the cops thought it was someone who slipped in and pretended to be a server.
    “It wouldn’t have been that hard. The servers looked like something out of that old video. The one with Robert Palmer and all the women musicians who looked the same. Someone came by with a tray of baby quiches, and I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman.”
    “Were the quiches good?” the woman next to her asked. The question caught everyone off guard and there was a titter of laughter as I finally stepped up to the counter. Just my luck Caitlyn was helping