“This,” Emelia announced, “is a Pineapple Coconut Rum Cooler. I’ll be serving the nibbles as I demonstrate and turning the camera toward you for your reactions.” She paused and gave them all a pointed look. “And no funny business. Youwilllove them. Right?”
Mia smiled as every woman dutifully echoed, “Right.”
Then the lights brightened, the camera clicked on, and it was showtime.
The show was only half an hour, but Emelia was in her element—confident, charming, and a little sassy. Mia cheered along with the others as they sampled the three “foolproof” nibbles—coconut shrimp, sweet-chili chicken skewers and pineapple-avocado salsa cups. Each met with oohs and aahs. Food that did exactly what it was supposed to do.
Finally, Emelia flipped off the lights and let out a breath. “Well, what do you think? Food good? Drink good? Me?”
“You were fabulous,” said Joy.
“And the drink and nibbles? Delish,” Tessa added.
Emelia sighed, poured herself a drink and joined them at the table as the conversation drifted straight into gossip.
Tessa nudged Emelia. “I don’t understand why you won’t cater. Your food is wonderful and creative.”
“Oh, I had enough of customers from my LilyPad days,” Emelia replied, then looked at Mia. “I don’t know how you do it. People can be so judgmental. And then you have some of the other caterers that are so … catty.”
Mia remembered that Emelia used to own the bakery before she sold it.
“You mean like Sabrina and Dana,” Lainey said. “They’ve got the skills, but they both love drama. Sabrina is the worst though.”
“And spreading rumors,” muttered Mia before she could stop herself. The words tasted bitter even as she said them.
“Don’t listen to them,” said Joy. “They’re just jealous because a new person is in town who’s better.”
“There’s always competition,” Mia said, not wanting to add fuel to anything. Not that she thought anyone here would run off and repeat it, but she knew how fast stories took on a life of their own once they left the room. And honestly, she didn’t need any fresh drama on her plate.
“Well, I’m all for changing the subject,” said Lainey, launching into details about the new projects she was working on. Mallory followed with talk about someone she was dating that several of the women knew and found sexy.
Mia couldn’t stop thinking about Caleb working on the barn earlier, all sweaty, T-shirt off and his muscles flexing with every lift. Not that she was about to bring that up. It wasn’t as if they were dating. Not officially. Not yet.
The group laughed, snacked and sipped coffee as the night wound down. By the time Mia said goodbye and stepped into the cooler night air, she felt lighter. There was something aboutbeing with friends that unclenched the tight spots inside her and let her breathe again. For the first time all day, she felt like herself.
Her happiness lasteduntil she turned into her driveway.
The porch light glowed as it always did—warm, welcoming—but something felt off. A subtle feeling she couldn’t name. Mia slowed as her headlights swept across the property. Farmhouse—fine. New barn—fine.
Then, her beams hit the old barn. Her pulse faltered.
Something small and crumpled lay in front of the door.
At first, she thought it was debris blown in from the road. But then she saw fur. The limp limbs. And a dark smear she didn’t want to get close enough to identify that made her stomach churn.
“No,” she whispered.
She parked fast and got out, her throat tight. The night suddenly became too quiet. She approached the door cautiously, her steps crunching loudly on the gravel, breaking the silence.
Nothing jumped out at her. And whatever was lying there sure wasn’t jumping ever again.
But if someone wanted to rattle her, they couldn’t have picked a more deliberate spot. The house was one thing. But the barn? That was hers. Her kitchen. Her work. Her life.
The closer she approached, the shape sharpened.
A dead rabbit. Its neck twisted. Laid neatly in front of the door posed like some kind of awful offering.
Her stomach clenched. Wild animals dragged prey everywhere out here. Sometimes the remains ended up in the most random places. Driveways, ditches, front steps. But thisfelt too … placed. No way this poor thing simply “landed” here by accident.
