Free A Batter of Life and Death by Ellie Alexander Page A

that the show is going to keep filming.”
    “I don’t know about that.” Thomas polished off his sandwich and bit into an amaretto dream. “I made it clear that he can’t use the space today. We’ll have to see how things progress. The guy is really demanding, though. I think he’s used to getting his way.” He munched the cookie. “Man, this is awesome. What is it?”
    “Amaretto.”
    Thomas laughed. “Now I know your secret. You keep your customers coming back by hopping them up on booze. Juliet, you little sneak. Who knew?”
    I kicked him in the shin.
    “Ouch.” He keeled over. “I forgot what a wicked kick you have. Mercy, mercy.”
    “You want to go see Marco’s stuff?”
    He popped the last half of cookie in his mouth, grabbed the empty plate and stood. I’m used to being one of the tallest people in a room. When I was younger it made me self-conscious. I used to intentionally slump my shoulders, especially when cute guys were around. Thomas is a couple inches taller than me. I liked having to look up slightly to meet his eyes.
    As we walked to the kitchen the chime on the door rang. Andy, Nina, and a handful of locals on lunch break filed in. Without missing a beat, Andy dropped his backpack by the office, washed his hands, tied on a clean apron, and was pulling espresso shots before Thomas even had time to rest his plate in the sink.
    Nina floated over to us. Her toes stuck out from underneath her long peasant skirt. They were painted green. I’m a stickler for safety. It’s probably due to my training in culinary school and working in the rigorous environment of a ship’s kitchen. Nina’s open-toed sandals were a no-go at Torte. Not only do open-toed shoes give customers the wrong perception on cleanliness, but they’re not safe. Kitchen accidents happen all the time. A rolling pin could drop and break a toe, or she could scald them with any of the hot sauces we usually have reducing on the stove.
    She fluffed her skirt and stood with arms at her sides, almost like in some sort of strange yoga pose. “Jules, is this the police officer I need to speak to?”
    I introduced them. Nina clutched Thomas’s arm, and spoke in an affected voice. “I don’t know if Jules has mentioned this yet, but I really need to move my workstation here. They placed me at the Merry Windsor, and I’m a vegan chef.”
    “Okay?” Thomas waited for her to continue.
    “Are you familiar with the vegan lifestyle?”
    Lifestyle? I moved away from them and flipped through Mom’s recipe book until I found what I was looking for—a butter pound cake.
    Nina touted the benefits of living the vegan lifestyle. I chopped butter by the pound. The irony wasn’t lost on me.
    Thomas listened politely, with Nina hanging on his arm the entire time. Once she finished her dissertation on veganism he removed himself from her clutches. “I’ll have to try one of your pastries. They sound interesting.”
    They walked into the kitchen. “Jules, is this Marco’s workstation?” Thomas asked.
    Nina started and gasped as Thomas picked up a spatula from Marco’s mess.
    “Are you okay?” He put the spatula down and came closer to Nina.
    She regained her composure and pointed to me. “It’s all that butter. I’m not used to being around this much butter.”
    I held the butter up. “ This is making you jumpy?”
    She grabbed Thomas’s arm again.
    I gave him an incredulous look. He gave me a warning for my face.
    Nina giggled. “No. I think I’m just jumpy from Marco’s murder.”
    Her reaction was strange to say the very least.
    She fluffed her skirt again. “I’d love to make this work. Even though I’m not a fan of butter, I’m glad to see you’re using natural products here. Everything at the Merry Windsor is processed.” She shuddered. “We’ve got to be sure that that butter doesn’t contaminate any of my baking, though.”
    “Not a problem.” I plopped the butter in my hand into the mixing bowl and tried to