CHAPTER 3

C HAPTER 3

A bigail was on her cell phone as she walked into the apartment the next morning. She rolled her eyes at Mia as she handed her a cup of coffee. "Of course, you can come by again and look at the backyard. I'm sure our solution for the walkway will be perfect for the girls. And we have a way for the audience to be able to see everyone clearly as they do their evening gown walk."

Mia opened her planner and held up a pen.

Abigail sat at the table, listening to the other side of the call. "Eleven o'clock today would be perfect."

Mia wrote down the time and pushed a fresh cinnamon roll toward Abigail as she hung up the phone. Lucky for her, Mia had to go into work this morning.

"Thanks, I need this. I'm sorry I got Mia's Morsels involved in this event. You wouldn't think that a beauty contest would be so high maintenance. Bambi is bringing the moms back over, this time without the daughters. They have other obligations, like school." Abigail sipped her water. "I'm so glad I didn't have daughters who had to go through this rite of passage."

"Is participating in the pageant required of coven girls?" Mia hadn't realized it wasn't voluntary.

Abigail shrugged. "Yes and no. Of course, a girl can bow out, but all the families know the winner gets a seat for a family member on the council for a year. And that's good money. It can change someone's life."

"Which is why Melody Sellers is participating. Okay, now that makes more sense. She didn't seem like the pageant type." Mia took a fork and pulled off part of a cinnamon roll still in the pan. She didn't want a full roll. She'd already had one for breakfast. She just wanted another taste.

"Melody might not be, but her mother was. Sherry was raised to win the competition. After she died, Melody's grandmother kind of lost it. She's on our delivery route. I don't think Mrs. Sellers has left the house in years." Abigail opened her paper planner. This one had a flowered cover, but at least it was paper. Not like the people last night, who'd made fun of Mia's system. One of the reasons that Abigail and Mia were friends. "Thanks for updating me last night. My job is easier when we communicate."

"I just hope I didn't overstep by hiring Trent." Mia pulled out the plan they'd sketched out last night and showed Abigail the flow with the dais and the walkways. "This way, they can use the entire yard as their runway."

"It's perfect." She held up the sheet of paper. "Can I make a copy of this for the tour today? I think seeing this might calm down the pageant moms."

"Just put the original back in this folder. I'll keep a folder up here so if I make any changes or have suggestions, I'll have them here."

A noise came from the hallway, and Christina came into the room. Her eyes were red. Whatever Levi's game was, Mia hoped he'd tell her the truth before Mia spilled the beans. She didn't like seeing Christina this upset. Even if the trip was supposed to be a surprise. "Good morning," Mia said.

Christina didn't answer, just poured her coffee.

"Oh, my. What has my son done now?" Abigail leaned forward and tucked a strand of hair behind Christina's ear.

"Nothing. I'm fine." She stood and picked up her coffee cup. "I'm heading downstairs. That van isn't going to pack itself."

Abigail and Mia watched as Christina stormed out of the apartment. "Whatever he's done, he has to fix it. Now. I have to work with her," Abigail said.

"He's your son, you might want to talk to him." Mia left the discussion at that. She wasn't responsible for reporting back what Levi and Trent did to their mother. Especially since Abigail was also part of her business. There needed to be some boundaries. "Anyway, I need to get ready to go to the Lodge. We're having a lunch meeting to talk about this quarter's earnings as well as next quarter's events. I'm sure Frank's going to have some not-so-subtle comments about Mia's Morsels and their winning the bid for the queen contest."

"Just tell him what I said. That we were told we had the highest cost proposal. I don't think he wants you to fight with unsustainable budget projections. The point of his business model is to make money. I just want you to have a sustainable block of business so you can come back to just doing your passion." Abigail stood and put her now-empty plate into the sink. She refilled her coffee cup and paused. "Don't worry so much. Everything is going to turn out."

Mia cleaned up the dining area and then put the rest of the rolls away. She spied the potion bag on the counter. She'd forgotten to ask Abigail about it. Mia was almost certain Abigail didn't use glamour spells in her everyday life, but she could be wrong. She set the bag in the middle of the table so she'd remember to ask her tomorrow or the next time Mia saw her.

Then she went to her room to get ready for work.

* * *

Two hours later, the meeting was finally over. James, the kitchen manager, pulled Mia toward his office. "Let's grab something to eat. I'm trying out a new recipe for Cobb salad, and I need a taste tester."

"How many versions of Cobb salad can you make?" Mia asked. She didn't keep the grumpy out of her voice. Frank had been in rare form. Every time she'd opened her mouth, he'd made a face or called her out on something simple, or worse, just ignored what she'd said. "He's a five-year-old, throwing a tantrum. I'm sure he tried to get the corporate guys to let him fire me, but I've been too good at my job. And I've made him look good."

"Yes, you're right, and you don't have to have any salad. I just need you to eat something and calm down before you throw your resignation in Frank's face. I don't know if I could do this job without my partner in crime around." James gently pushed her into his office and then stood at the door blocking the exit. "So, what do you want?"

"I want to wring his neck." Immediately, Mia saw the distressed look on James's face and felt bad. Maybe Trent was right. She did try to please everyone else. "Fine, get me a French dip and lots of fries. With fry sauce."

"Ooh, a French dip sounds amazing. I might order one as well." James started to leave to put the order in the kitchen. Then he popped his head back in the office. "You're staying put, right?"

Mia gave him a pained smile. "I'll be right here when you get back. I have a mortgage payment to make."

"Perfect. About you staying, not the mortgage." James disappeared, and Mia opened her laptop to check her emails. All the other department heads had sent her emails railing about how Frank had treated her. The housekeeping manager—who had been there longer than anyone—even said she was reaching out to corporate to report his bad behavior. Mia scanned the other emails that had come in when she was in the meeting and answered several quick questions about possible bookings. Frank was a jerk, but he'd get over this. She just needed to ride the storm out. Besides, if she loved this job, maybe she'd never leave and take back over the reins at Mia's Morsels. And that would be a shame. Day jobs paid the bills. Passion projects took a while to be successful.

Especially in small towns like Magic Springs.

James came back with a tray with what looked like a pitcher of mimosas and one of iced tea. And four glasses. "Our food will be ready soon, but I thought we deserved a pick-me-up. Then we'll drink iced tea during our meal. You're working here this afternoon, right?"

"I am. So, give me a mimosa, and we can toast to what a jerk Frank is and how we survived another meeting." Mia closed her laptop. "I got emails from everyone in that room today about how inappropriate he was. I'm saving them in my ‘Frank' file. If I go down, he's going to go down first."

"See, that's my girl. You have a plan." James poured the mimosas and handed her one. "I have to say, I'm glad you're hosting the queen contest over at the school. We have the out-of-towners coming into the hotel for the festival, so we're going to be busy enough in two weeks. Frank never sees the good in not getting a catering event."

"The mothers came over again today to check out the venue. The school isn't that big. And they were just there yesterday," Mia complained as she sipped her drink. "I'm just glad Abigail is dealing with them. I had my fill yesterday when they came to see the setup."

"The event coordinator, Bambi, she's a sweetheart. She tries to rein in the mothers from hell, but sometimes even she can't control them. This contest is a big deal in Magic Springs. I didn't even think anyone still did beauty pageants." James refilled his glass and Mia's, draining the small pitcher completely.

James was mortal, so he didn't know about the coven connection. Mia wasn't going to be the one to out the coven's traditions. "I guess being a small town is why they still do the pageant."

"I get tradition. I just don't get why the moms are so brutal during this process. I really hope they don't treat people like this all the time." James drained his mimosa, then turned to the tea. "But they've been this way since I moved here to take over the kitchen. I'm surprised you didn't get involved last year."

"I remember going to the festival the Saturday after the competition and watching the parade, but no, queen contests aren't my cup of tea." She set the half-empty mimosa on the tray and poured herself a glass of tea. "The corn dogs at the festival were amazing."

"My friend Tanner owns that food truck. He's always trying to perfect the lowly corn dog." James continued talking about the festival and the brief history he had around the event. Mia needed to chat with her grandmother tonight. One, to see if she'd left that potion bag. And two, Mia wanted to know what they were getting into with this catering gig. Maybe they could be prepared for any bad actors causing problems.

After lunch, Mia headed home and wasn't surprised to see Grans's old car in the school's parking lot. Her grandmother seemed to know when Mia needed to talk. As she parked her car, a truck with the logo of the Magic Springs Police Department pulled in after her. She got out of the car and smiled at Mark Baldwin, the local police chief. "Hey, Mark, did you come for a frozen dinner or two? I've got a stuffed meat loaf in there that will knock your socks off. And how's the little angel?"

Mark closed the door and held out his hand. "Give me some room, Mia. Abigail called in a suspicious death. I need to check this out."

"Wait? Who's dead?" Mia stayed near her car, not wanting to be locked out of her own home.

"Abigail didn't say. Just stay here, and I'll clear you as soon as I find out if this is an active shooter situation." Mark wasn't focused on Mia anymore. He had drawn his gun, and he and another officer were moving toward the old schoolhouse door.

Mia said a quick prayer for everyone's safety as she watched her house become a crime scene. Again.