Punch, Pastries, and Poison by Harper Lin (ebook reader for pc and android .txt) 📕

people would attend—a downside of making it an open-house event—or how much they would eat, so I might have gone a little overboard on the food prep. I just wanted to make sure everyone was well fed! I would have felt like a terrible hostess if anyone went away hungry.

I did the next fold-and-turn on the puff pastry then popped it back in the fridge. I needed to get the lemon curd tart filling going. Fortunately, it was a pretty straightforward recipe that I’d made a million times. As long as I didn’t scramble the eggs, I’d be fine.

I zested a bunch of lemons then poured in the sugar and mixed them up. Then I dropped in the eggs and some lemon juice, put the whole thing in a pan on the stove, and cooked the mixture for a few minutes. Then I added a pinch of salt and some butter, strained it all, and left it to cool. And I pulled it all off with no major disasters. As soon as I got the puff pastry done and cooked, I’d be ready to go.

Or so I thought until I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror next to the door and realized I’d have to find time to go home and get a shower if I didn’t want to show up at my own party with flour in my hair and specks of lemon curd all over my face.

Chapter 7

I managed to get the café cleaned, rearranged, and decorated, the food all prepared, and myself cleaned up in time for the party to start. All that was thanks in no small part to Sammy, who I felt like was sharing my brain and providing two extra hands for me. Every time I turned to ask her to help me with something, I found her already doing it, whether it was carrying food out to the tables or adjusting a decoration or putting out a sign-in sheet so Matt and I could thank everyone personally for coming in the days after the party.

Well, who was I kidding? Matt would thank his buddies for showing up that night and then never think of it again. That was probably a fair approach to take, but if a lot of people showed up—which I hoped they did, for the sake of the animal shelter, but also because I had made quite a lot of food—it might be hard to get around and say hello to everyone during the party. With a list, I could go thank them afterward.

Matt managed to pull himself away from his work and showed up early, like I’d asked. I was thrilled because Sammy and I needed help moving a few tables around to create more space for people to mingle.

“Oh good!” I exclaimed as he walked in. “Could you get that four-top from the back and bring it over next to this other one?”

“Hi, honey, I missed you too.” He sauntered over and looked down at me with a wry smile.

“Sorry, I’m just trying to get everything all set so we’re not still working on it when people start arriving.” I gave him a quick peck on the lips before going back to the napkins I was arranging in a fan pattern on the table.

“Relax.” He glanced down at his watch. “The party doesn’t start for twenty minutes.”

My head snapped up to look at the large cast-iron clock that hung on one of the café’s exposed brick walls. “Twenty minutes? Forget these napkins! We need to get plates and forks and cups and—”

Matt put his hands on my shoulders. “Calm down, Franny. We’re going to get it all done. Just take a deep breath. It’ll be okay.”

I looked at him like I thought he was crazy—because I did. I was sure there was no way to get everything done and make everything perfect in twenty minutes. And that was assuming no one showed up until the official start time. Someone always did. No one else would show up for another half hour or so, but there was always that one person who was there before they were supposed to be. Whoever it was, I wanted to be sure we were ready when they walked in.

Fortunately, the first people to trickle in were more like family than guests—the people we would have invited even if we were just having a small gathering at the house. Sammy’s boyfriend, Ryan, was the first to come in, followed shortly by Rhonda—who also worked for me—and her husband, then my high-schoolers, Becky and Amanda, with their families. There was no sign of Ephy as the official seven o’clock start time came and went, but I reminded myself that she was joining us to celebrate, not coming in to work. She could be as late as she wanted, and it would be fine. Besides, other people were starting to filter in. Some friends, some acquaintances, some people who I didn’t really know but recognized from the café.

Almost everyone signed the sheet of paper serving as a guest book, and I saw lots of people slipping money into the collections box for the animal shelter. I wondered briefly if it had been a bad idea to leave it so close to the door—it would be so easy for someone to grab it and run out—but I reassured myself that we were in Cape Bay, which wasn’t exactly a hotbed of crime. Well, for the most part. We had had more than our share of murders in town lately, but it was a safe town otherwise, with just some vandalism and the occasional petty theft taking up most of the police department’s time.

I gradually started to relax and enjoy the party. People were milling around, chatting with each other, eating the snacks I’d spent so much time preparing, and generally having fun.

“Happy birthday, Francesca. It’s a lovely party.”

I turned around to see Mary Ellen, who ran the gift shop across the street, smiling broadly