“And Nathaniel’s father was a piece of work too,” Bea added. “Let’s not forget him.”
“What ever happened to him?” Jack asked.
“Pruitt Worthington died in a boating accident about five years ago,” Aggie said, wrinkling her nose. “One day he was accused of embezzling money from the bank, and the next, he was sinking like an anchor off the coast of Georgia. With his ex-wife’s sister, no less. The whole town was buzzing for months.”
Jack remembered the news story, but sympathy for the Worthingtons had never been his strong suit. He leaned back against the counter, tapping his coffee mug with a steady rhythm. “So, real talk. Why’d you call me over here? I mean, you’ve got your little information-gathering operation going, and clearly you didn’t need my muffins for a power-up. What exactly am I supposed to bring to the table?”
Aggie leaned in, her eyes glinting with that unsettling mix of curiosity and smugness only she could pull off. “I figure you’ve got a stake in all this too. I’d imagine there’s nobodyin Sunrise as eager to take the Worthingtons down a few pegs. And especially now that you’re making googly eyes at Cora.”
“Nobody’s making googly eyes,” he said. “Seriously, where do you get this stuff?”
Aggie stared at him, her expression flat and unamused. “This town isn’t called ‘Keep Your Business to Yourself-ville.’ Everybody knows you made dinner for her last night. Now stop playing coy.”
“All right,” Jack said, knowing better than to argue. But he also knew he needed to change the subject before it came out that he might have actually made googly eyes at Cora. “So, what else have we got on the Worthingtons?”
For the next hour, they swapped increasingly outrageous Worthington family secrets. By the end, he was convinced they were either the most interesting family in Sunrise, or they all needed psychological help.
“This is all top-tier gossip,” he said finally, draining the last of his coffee. “But we’re no closer to stopping Nathaniel from getting this place.”
A heavy silence settled over the group. Jack could almost hear the gears grinding in everyone’s heads.
“What we need,” Winston said, polishing his glasses with renewed vigor, “is dirt on Nathaniel himself. Something that will make him think twice about messing with Cora.”
A throat cleared on the other side of the café. They all turned, caught mid-conspiracy, to see Cora standing in the doorway, one eyebrow arched to perfection.
“Well,” she said, her gaze sweeping over their guilty faces, “this looks cozy. Planning a heist, are we?”
Jack straightened, trying for casual. “We were just, uh ...”
“Discussing muffin recipes,” Aggie cut in smoothly.
Cora’s other eyebrow joined the first. “Uh-huh. And do those muffin recipes include taking down Nathaniel Worthington?”
The woman had ears like a bat.
“Actually,” Jack said, deciding again that honesty was the best policy, which he knew was a novel concept for a Harlow, “we were trying to figure out how to dig up dirt on Nathaniel. To stop him from buying the café.”
To his surprise, instead of shutting them down, Cora grinned and slid onto the chair next to him. “Well, why didn’t you say so?”
“You’ve got a lot on your plate, sweetheart,” Bea said, resting a hand on her shoulder. “We wanted to help you.”
“By going behind my back?” Cora accused, pointing at Aggie and Bea. “I know you two. You weren’t going to tell me your plans until you’d already gotten yourselves arrested.”
Aggie flashed a saccharine smile. “Now, now, don’t make it sound so nefarious, honey. We only fast-tracked things a bit.”
Bea, always the peacekeeper—or meddler, depending on the day—joined the fray. “Cora, you know we’ve got your best interests at heart. And Lolly’s. We’d never want to leave you out. But when it comes to Worthington...well, we knew you’d want to be involved, but you can’t blame us for getting a head start.”
“Oh, can’t I?” Cora’s lips twitched into a wry smile, but her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You do realize you’re both terrible liars, right?Fast-trackingis fancy talk for sneaking around.”
Aggie’s hand squeezed Cora’s shoulder, but she avoided eye contact. “Sweetie, if we’re guilty of anything, it’s loving you too much. And maybe having an itty-bitty flair for the dramatic.”
“You know we’d never do anything without thinking it through,” Bea added.
“Like that time you put food coloring in Lolly’s bath bombs and turned her green for a week?”
“That was one bad batch,” Bea muttered.
“Right,” Cora said, crossing her arms. “And I’m supposedto trust that you twothought throughwhatever harebrained scheme you’re cooking up this time?”
