He stuck out his hand in Lani's general direction, but his attention was focused on sizing up her kitchen. "Hello, I'm Bernard."

Of course you are, Lani thought. She took his hand, which was warm and a little damp, and gave it a quick shake before he wandered off and forgot he'd stuck it out there.

The contact seemed to startle him into looking at her. He smiled, though it was more of a squint really, that just happened to be accompanied by a brief flash of teeth; then he went back to sizing up the joint. "I'm here to do advance prep for the show setup tonight. Production sent me."

"Right." Lani should have realized that her guest wasn't Baxter even before the abrupt kitchen invasion. If Baxter himself had walked into the front of the shop, Dre wouldn't have called back as she did. Her young assistant might want the world to think she was far too cool to be starstruck. But Lani knew the one thing Dre considered worthy of her respect was a great chef. Dre knew the life story of every chef who had ever made a mark on the history of cooking, and a good many others who were known mostly only to industry insiders. She was on scholarship at a small art institute across the causeway, but in addition to her incredible skills as an artist, she was a dedicated foodie and chef groupie.

Lani had met Dre when she had popped up at the shop, ostensibly to offer her graphic art skills, gratis, as part of a class project to generate a shop logo that could be used as store signage, but also on T-shirts, coffee mugs, and any other marketing items Lani might have in mind. Intrigued by the offer and by the person, but uncertain if Dre's rather dark personal stylings would translate to something as whimsical as a cupcakery logo, Lani had asked to see samples of Dre's work.

That Dre was a supremely talented young artist was clear at a glance, but it was the focus of her art that had captivated Lani. Not surprising, Dre's work was entrenched in the fantasy realm. But rather than the postapocalypticMad Maxian type work Lani might have expected, she was transported to richly colored Utopian gardens filled with brightly winged fantasy creatures, and intricately detailed fairy worlds so richly imagined, Lani felt that she could step right into them. All she needed was a yellow brick road.

She had agreed to work with Dre that same day. What had begun as a school project collaboration had developed into something completely different when Dre had sampled one of Lani's new cupcake creations, and proceeded to comment, specifically and one hundred percent correctly, on every single ingredient Lani had used. She also offered her own opinions on why the various flavors and elements worked so well together.

Lani had then discovered Dre hadn't found the cupcakery by accident. She had specifically chosen it because she had followed Baxter's amazing career arc, and, in tandem with that, had followed Lani's career as executive chef at Gateau. Lani had been amazed by the revelation ... and more than a little flattered.

Of course, as a full-time student, Dre hadn't been looking for a paying job, nor was she targeting a career in the culinary world. Her foodie passion was a hobby, not a future goal. And Lani hadn't figured she needed to hire help until closer to the holidays.

While they were discussing the logo in the shop kitchen, where Lani was working steadily away, Dre had just sort of jumped in and helped while they brainstormed, and when the front of the shop suddenly got busy, Dre stepped up to the counter to let customers know Lani would be right out. She ended up answering questions and ringing up sales ... and generally being the bright, amazing, and indispensible person she was. By the end of that day, Cakes By The Cup had its first official employee.

An employee who insisted on following the industry standard and using the respectful title of Chef whenever she addressed her new boss, despite Lani's request for her to be more informal. It was a cupcake shop, after all, not ... well, Gateau. Although, if Lani were to be completely honest, she kind of liked hearing the respectful form of address again. It had been disconcerting to discover there were bits and pieces of her old life she still missed.

Smiling, she shook her head, and then the rest of what Bernard had said began to sink in. "Tonight?"

He'd been pacing the perimeter of the kitchen, but turned back. "You're closing now, correct? Baxter told us we could get in, but not until you close. You might want to rethink having us drag all our gear in through the front. You really don't want us tracking up your shop. We'll have to do a lighting install out there, but Baxter said to set up in here. Filming starts in the morning, so we're already behind schedule." He glanced at her, looking as if he wanted to shake his head in disgust.

For what? Keeping him and his crew out of her place of business during business hours? How dare he. "Morning? As in, tomorrow morning? But I have-" She broke off when Bernard starting frowning. Clearly he was not the person she should be having this particular conversation with. "I need to make a quick call. Before you do ... anything."

He lifted a clipboard and some other technological device that looked like a Geiger counter. Or something. "Just making notes," he explained. "Gotta take measurements, look at your electrical panel. See what kind of generators we're going to need so we don't blow all your circuits."

Oh, you're already blowing my circuits, she wanted to tell him.

Especially when he added, "Trucks will roll about an hour from now."

"Of course they will. An hour." Serious anxiety began to set in just as Dre came through the swinging door from the front of the shop.

"Locked up, register done." She lifted the corner of the heavy blue bank bag she was cradling on top of the nightly checklist clipboard. "Should I ... ?" She glanced at Bernard, who was currently captivated by the fuse box, then nodded quickly toward the office and mouthed the word safe.

Lani nodded.

"Do you need me to stay?"

"No, I'm fine, I-" She was already fishing for her phone when she realized she didn't have Baxter's number. Nor did she know where in Savannah he was staying. "Dammit."

"Are you sure?" Dre asked again.

Lani opened her mouth to reassure her assistant she didn't need watching over, then glanced up and realized Dre wasn't so much worried about Lani being stuck in the shop after hours with Bernard. She was angling to be involved in the production setup ... and, Lani imagined, maybe get a gander at Chef Hot Cakes himself. Unlike every other female on Sugarberry, Dre hadn't peppered her with a million questions about Baxter and what it had been like to work with the reigning McDreamy of the kitchen. But Lani was sure that was only because Dre already knew more about Baxter than anybody.

"I-well, Alva is going to be dropping by to get her cupcakes shortly."

"Marathon poker championship night. Right. I took a bet with a guy in my illustrations class on whether or not the police would be involved. Then we realized that was pretty much a given. So we narrowed it down to before midnight, or after." Dre took on a considering look. "What time did you say she was picking these up?"

"Very funny. You should just call Alva and ask her what the over-under is. I'm sure she's already taking bets."

"Good point."

Lani gave Dre a quick list of instructions on how to remove the liners and glaze the bottoms of the cupcakes, then package them upside down in the specially lined boxes she'd already prepared. "Glaze them all, then the best three dozen are for Alva. She'll be by before seven."

Dre was already washing her hands. "Are we going to add this one to the menu? Looks intense."

Lani and Alva had decided on molten upside-down cakes. If there were laws on the amount of chocolate one cupcake could have, molten cakes would break every one of them. The cake was her take on devil's food, the filling was a melted, gooey blend of dark and Dutched chocolates with a spicy kick thrown in, and the glaze was a thick, glossy chocolate ganache. Alva had declared them heavenly.

She'd shown up bright and early the previous morning for their consultation, decked out in her church finery best. Yet somehow that hadn't stopped her from donning her My Little Pony apron, which she'd hung on a peg next to one of Dre's-as if she worked there-then had lent a helping hand with Lani's morning preopening prep as they'd discussed which secret weapon cakes to make for the poker tournament. Lani had initially groaned inwardly, thinking she'd created something of a problem by letting Alva help her with her therapy roulade the other night, but before she could deliver her politely worded explanation about boundaries, Alva was halfway through piping frosting-perfectly-on the first rack of cupcakes. So Lani had kept her mouth shut and let the woman work. By the time they'd discussed all of Lani's various weapon cake ideas, Alva had proven herself to be quite the helpful little assistant. So much so that Lani had offered a discount on the molten cakes as a way to thank her.

Always the cagey one, Alva had pretended to consider the offer, but in the end, had refused, explaining that she'd enjoyed both of their impromptu baking sessions and didn't want Lani to think she was angling for preferential treatment if she ever happened to drop by and help out again. Lani reduced her charge for the order anyway, because it was the right thing to do, and told Alva they'd work out the details of any future orders as they came along. She'd been in such a good mood after Alva took off, she'd cranked up the stereo and bopped her way into the extensive morning catch-up prep.

Which was when Baxter had shown up. She hadn't felt much like bopping since.

"They weigh like half a pound apiece," Dre said, carefully removing the paper liners. "Maybe I should change my bet to whether or not the oldsters will be able to do justice to these bad boys."

Lani glanced at Bernard, then back to Dre. "You haven't met our oldsters." "I don't know if I'm putting them on the menu here. A lot of prep, and they won't save well for day olds. We'll see how they go over tonight. Excuse me for a moment."

"Yes, Chef."

Lani smiled to herself, then crossed over to where Bernard was busy checking out the fuse box.

"We'll need to bring in our own grid anyway, so not to worry," he told her.

"Worry about what?"

He squint-smiled at her. "About production shooting your electric bill into the stratosphere."

"Ah." Seriously? Now her electric bill was going up? She hadn't really thought through any of that part. She'd been too hung up on how she was going to handle working side by side with Baxter again. In front of television cameras, no less. She should have been thinking about her business and what else this might cost her, besides her sanity. After all, that's what she'd told him she was focused on, right? Maybe it was time to get her head in gear and her mind strictly on business. And away from how he made her feel every time he got within three feet of her. She was really going to have to do something about that. Her hormones took a happy leap, just thinking about being near him again. Dammit.

She pulled out her phone and was about to ask Bernard for contact information, when the back door to the kitchen opened and her dad walked in.

"Evening, Dre." He nodded at Lani's assistant, then looked at Lani with a questioning lift of the eyebrows as he glanced beyond her to Bernard.

"Evening, Chief," Dre said, never breaking focus on the task at hand.

Lani saw her father get the same little smile she got when Dre addressed her, and noticed he didn't correct her on the title. He was the sheriff, not the police chief. Dre was originally from Boston, so the sheriff concept was something she apparently didn't directly connect with. Or maybe she just looked at Lani's dad and saw D.C. cop. Compared to the rest of the guys in the Sugarberry sheriff's department, he clearly still was.

She also noticed her dad give Dre a second glance-a quick onceover that took in the Wonka apron, purple hair, pale skin, and fairy neck tat, all in under two seconds-then give his head the smallest of shakes as he continued on into the room.

Lani smiled to herself as she rounded the worktable and walked over to meet him. "What brings you over after hours? I hope you're not angling for a handout. These are all for Alva's ladies. You'll have to crash the poker tournament later, confiscate them or something."

"They almost look worth the hassle, but that's not why I'm here."

"Oh?"

"I'm here in an official capacity, to meet with your Mr. Dunne."

"He's not my anything."

"We got a request for a series of permits from his production crew. I need to go over some information before we can get them issued. Where is he?"

"Not here." Yet, apparently.

"Chef Dunne is coming? Tonight?" Dre stopped her precision glazing to look over at the two of them. "Sorry. I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I was just-"

"It's okay, Dre. Hang around, you'll get an introduction."

Dre nodded and tried hard not to look as if she'd just won the lottery and double the presents on Christmas morning combined, but Lani couldn't recall her assistant ever looking quite so ... twinkly. Or anything resembling twinkly. Lani should be amused. After all, Baxter could elicit the twinkly from the most hardened of hearts. Why it irked her, she had no idea. Other than wanting to explain to Dre that her twinkle-inducing Chef Hot Cakes was about to turn their lives into a three ring circus. "I'm becoming a crank. And it's all his fault."

"I beg your pardon?" her dad asked.

"What? Oh, nothing. I don't know when he'll show up. Mostly because I don't know anything about the schedule. He hasn't bothered to share that with me."

Her father frowned and Lani immediately saw the stubborn glint in his eyes and could have kicked herself. She knew better than to speak her mind around her father, especially where Baxter was concerned.

"You want me to hold up the permits? Give you time to make all this go away? For that matter, you want me to make this all go away, because-"

"Dad, no. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you worry. I already agreed to all this and everyone on Sugarberry is excited. I'm just a little annoyed, that's all." She gave him a look. "No needless delays, okay? The sooner we start shooting, the faster we can be done."

"How long is this going to last?"

"I really don't know. We haven't discussed-" She broke off when the back door opened yet again ... and Alva strolled in, all smiles.

Lani took a deep breath, trying to quash the latest little adrenaline spike, which occurred each time the back door opened.

"Look at all my lovely little cakes." Alva beamed at the glossy rows of upside-down cupcakes. She glanced at Lani with a twinkle of her own, but it was of a decidedly different nature. She clasped her hands in front of her chest. "I'm feeling luckier by the moment."

"I'll have the rest of these boxed up in just a few minutes," Dre told her.

"Not to worry. I'm early. I'll help!"

Before Lani could intercede, Alva had spryly all but skipped over to the apron rack, whisked on her Little Pony getup, and was back by Dre's side in a flash.

Lani just shook her head. "What have I done?"

"Beg pardon?" her dad asked again.

Lani looked away from the visually jarring Dre-Alva duo to her father. "Maybe you should go talk to Bernard over there. I think he's in charge of lighting and equipment and whatever other setup is going to happen in here. He might be able to answer some of the questions you have about the permits."

Her dad nodded, then glanced over at the two women currently boxing up molten cakes and once again shook his head slightly. He strolled over to where Bernard was taking some kind of test reading of ... something.

Lani started to follow him, wanting to find out just how much equipment they were moving into her kitchen, thinking it was already feeling more than a little crowded, when the back door opened yet again.

And, in walked ... "Charlotte?"

"Surprise!" She waved and stepped fully inside.

"What?" Lani scurried around the tables and met an also scurrying Charlotte in the middle of the crowded kitchen, each catching the other in a tight hug, that might also have included a little simultaneous jumping up and down. "How?" Lani asked, still thinking she had to be seeing things.

"Well, you did invite me. Multiple times."

"I know, but how did you manage to get away? Your schedule was-"

"Kitchen fire."

Lani leaned back and held Charlotte by the arms. "Oh no! Is everyone okay?"

Charlotte nodded. "Happened when we were closed, thank goodness. Everyone is fine, but it will be at least two weeks before we're back up to speed, maybe longer if the health department doesn't clear us."

Lani glanced past Charlotte to the still open back door. "Did Franco-?"

"No. You know him, always has his hands in ten different projects in twice as many kitchens. He doesn't leave the city."

"Neither do you," Lani said with a laugh.

"You need me. I'm here." Charlotte looked around at the handful of others standing around them. "Although, you suddenly seem to have a lot of people."

"I was just thinking the same thing. But you're the best addition ever. Come on, I want to introduce you." Lani slid her arm through Charlotte's and squeezed it, still processing the fact that her closest friend and ally was really and truly there. "Are you staying the whole two weeks? Because you've got a room at my place, though I'm afraid you're on your own for board. I never seem to get to the grocery. Of course, if you're up for a bitch-and-bake night, then we can live on flour and buttercream."

"We've made that work before." Charlotte made a cursory nod toward the others, who were openly watching them. Except for Bernard, who was busy doing ... Bernard things. She lowered her voice and tilted her head toward Lani's. "But I'm thinking you might be a bit busy for Bake Night."

"We're never too busy for Bake Night."

Charlotte smiled. "This is true."

"In fact, I have a feeling I'll be needing a heavy therapy schedule."

She sketched a short bow. "I'm here to serve. And bake."

Lani squeezed her arm again. "I can't believe you're actually here."

"Neither can I." Char then turned her attention to everyone else and smiled, a bit like one would at the locals while still trying to decipher whether they were friendlies or not. "Hello. I'm Charlotte Bhandari. I went to culinary school with Leilani."

Lani finally snapped out of glee mode and stepped into the middle of everyone. "Charlotte is one of the premiere pastry chefs in New York City. She's executive pastry chef for the Mondrake. Charlotte, this is Dre, my new assistant. And Alva-"

"Her senior assistant," Alva said, with a kindly smile, but a gleaming twinkle that Lani noted she should probably pay attention to more often.

"And you've met my dad," Lani added, as her father left Bernard doing his thing and came over to where they all stood.

"It's good to see you again, Charlotte. It's been far too long."

It had been since Lani's mother's funeral, to be exact, but of course, neither of them mentioned that.

"Agreed," she said. "Lani tells me you're doing well. I'm very happy to hear that, Mr. Trusdale. Excuse me, Sheriff Trusdale."