That was the reason Henry didn’t have much to do with other hellhounds – and the reason he was in his current line of work. Most office jobs just didn’t think he was theright fit, for some reason. At his last interview, Henry had noticed the way the recruiter had kept subtly trying to wheel his chair slightly away from him, his eyes drifting over Henry’s torso as if trying to check if he had weapons on his person and was about to conduct a heist on the place.
So – nightclub bouncer it was. The hellhound aura definitely helped there. What worked on mafia bosses also worked on mean drunks – most of the time, they left the first time Henry asked them to, no ifs, no buts.
“Um. Sorry about that. What can I get for you today?” Sylvie, clearly a consummate professional, forced her bright smile back onto her face, but Henry could still see the lingering traces of alarm in her eyes. “If you’d like to try a free sample, today wehave cardamom chocolate brownies, and lemon cake – with a twist!”
Henry was tempted to ask what the twist was, but his hellhound sense of smell had already picked it up: a hint of lavender. And he had to admit, it was driving himwild.
“No, that’s all right,” he said, trying to flash her a reassuring smile. “Hmm. But youdoseem to have some incredible cakes here. How does anyone ever make a decision?”
Sylvie laughed. “You’d be surprised how often we hear that! But I can definitely make a recommendation, if that would help you out?”
Henry nodded. “Sure – I’d like that. I trust your judgment.”
Nodding, Sylvie considered the selection before her. Thankfully, she seemed to have gotten over her earlier fear… or she was hiding it well. She lifted a finger to her lips thoughtfully. “Okay. I think I have it. For you, I recommend… the butterscotch honey cake, the strawberry tart and… oh, you’vegotto try our new item! Angel cake – fresh from the oven this morning. Light and fluffy, and with sugared whipped cream and homemade strawberry and orange rind jelly.”
Oh my God. That sounds like… well, heaven,Henry thought, feeling his inner sugar demon – as opposed to his hellhound – rising up within him.
Of course, however, his hellhound wasn’t far behind, wrinkling its snout in disgust.Can you complete this ridiculous errand as quickly as possible?it sniffed, disdain dripping from every word.In case you’ve forgotten, we’re here for a reason.
As little as Henry wanted to admit it, he knew the hellhound had a point. Woodland creatures could start inundating this place at any moment. He had to make a decision and get out of here.
“I’ll take one of each,” he said quickly. “Thanks for that. They all sound amazing.”
“You must be in town for the festival,” Sylvie said as she fetched his order out of the display. “Did you have a long drive up?”
“The… uh… the festival?” Henry asked, blinking. Was that why there’d been so many people out and about? Some kind of local street fair?
“Oh, you don’t know?” Sylvie placed the box with his order on the counter. “It’s the first soon-to-be-annual Girdwood Springs Festival! Just to showcase all the culture, food and drink we have here now – the place has come a long way over the past few years! Would you like these gift-wrapped, sir?”
Henry shook his head. “No, just the box is fine.” He resisted the urge to let out a big,deepsigh. A food and drink festival sounded like heaven right about now, especially if everything was as good as these cakes – too bad it just wasn’t an option for him. Hehadto get up into the wilderness and change into his hellhound form until he could figure out why every single creature on earth had suddenly decided to fall completely in love with him.
As Sylvie busied herself closing the cabinet, Henry took a moment to glance around again, feeling yearning rising up within him. And it wasn’t just for the cakes. Everyone here looked so…happy.Families sat smiling together at the tables. Couples fed each other cake off spoons and made goopy eyes at each other over their drinks.
It was the kind of thing he’d always wished he could do… but when you’re a hellhound, these things get kind of tough. It was hard to find love when most women found him strangely intimidating – just like Sylvie had when he’d first walked in the door – no matter what he did. At some point, in addition to a regular job, he’d also given up on finding love.
It just didn’t feel like a possibility for him… and now, with this new complication in his life, such things seemed even moreout of reach than ever. Henry doubted the special woman in his life would be interested in sharing him with every dog, cat, pigeon, lizard and squirrel that happened his way.
“Okay, here you go!” Sylvie said, pushing the box of cakes toward him and ringing up his total on the cash register. “So, if you weren’t here for the festival, where are you off to? It’s not ski season, after all.”
“Oh… I’m just heading into the woods for a little R&R,” Henry said vaguely as he paid.
“So you’re an outdoorsman,” Sylvie said, smiling. “Where are you staying? There’s really nowhere to stay up there, aside from some old hunting cabins. Well, and Natasha’s B&B – oh, you aren’t the guest she was waiting on, are you?”
Henry blinked again. “I… doubt it?”
He did more than doubt it, since he hadn’t actually booked any accommodation – he’d been planning on living out of his car when he wasn’t in hellhound form.
“Hmm, now that you say it, you don’t look much like a travel writer,” Sylvie said thoughtfully, and then bit her lip. “No, I mean… not like that, just… youseemlike the outdoorsy type,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing a little. “But I know writers can look like anything! So… uh… if youarethe travel writer then… please don’t take offense at what I just said? Oh my God, I’m making things worse, aren’t I?”
Henry could only laugh as Sylvie buried her face in her hands. “It’s fine. I can’t say anyone’s ever accused me of being a writer before.”
“I feel like I should give you your cakes for free after that,” Sylvie said ruefully. “I’ll tell you what. How about a slice of lemon cake – with a twist! – on me. And then I’ll let you get back to your trip, hassle-free. Okay?”
“Sounds perfect,” Henry began to say, but Sylvie had already started grabbing a fresh slice of lemon cake – with its lavendertwist – out of the display. What soundedlessperfect to Henry was the sudden scrabbling sound from behind him. When he glanced over his shoulder, he found himself looking into the face of a very,verylarge dog, which was staring at him with great intensity through the bakery window. Behind it, a small boy was tugging on its leash to no avail – at least until his father arrived to help him drag the clearlyincrediblyreluctant dog away.
Henry knew he had to hurry.
“All right – here you go! And just remember, if you feel like coming back down the mountain, the festival is open to everyone. It’ll run all week, so there’s plenty of time!” Sylvie said, as at last Henry collected his cakes, trying to offer her a hurried smile.
