Fatally Frosted Read Online Free PDF

room with their own furniture to help their clients get top dollar. It was much more reasonable than actually replacing my things, and I didn’t have to lift a finger to have it done.” Marge bither lip, then added, “Well, that’s not entirely true. I wrote them a rather substantial check, but I think it was worth it, don’t you?”
    As I followed her into the kitchen, I added, “The entire place looks really great. I think it was money well spent.”
    “Thank you,” she said shyly. “I wanted everyone to remember this stop on the tour. I hope you’ll like what I got for you.”
    “You didn’t get me a corsage, too, did you?” I asked, envisioning wearing a floral arrangement like hers on my blouse as I tried to cook. It was a step up from what I usually wore when I worked, but I wasn’t ready for flowers.
    “Of course not,” she said. “Flowers wouldn’t do at all, would they? I did get you something, though.”
    She reached into the pantry and pulled out a very nice chef’s smock and hat—pristine white—starched and ironed without a wrinkle in sight. I shuddered when I thought about what would happen to it if I wore it working in her kitchen.
    “I appreciate the thought, honestly, I do,” I said, backpedaling for something to say. “I’m just not sure I could ever live up to it.”
    “Nonsense,” Marge said. “I think you’ll look delightful in it. I won’t take no for an answer, Suzanne,” she added as she shoved the garb in my face.
    I couldn’t stand there refusing to accept her offering, so I reached a hand out and took the smock and hat from her. I peeked inside the top and saw that unfortunately, she’d bought the right size.
    “How’d you know my size?” I asked as I slipped it on over my blouse.
    “I can’t take all the credit. Your mother was most helpful.”
    “I just bet she was,” I said. Funny, we’d just had breakfast together, but she hadn’t mentioned this at all.
    Marge must have seen my expression cloud over. “Now, Suzanne, don’t blame her. I asked Dorothy for her help, and she was quite sweet about it.” She frowned at the smock, then said, “It wasn’t my idea in the first place. As a matter of fact, it was suggested rather strongly to me that I do this for you.” She let out a deep breath, then said, “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to. It’s fine with me.”
    As I slid the towering white hat into place on my head, I said, “Don’t be silly. It’s perfect for the tour.”
    “I’m so glad you like it,” she said. “I do think it’s rather smart.”
    I took the smock and hat off again, happy to be rid of it, at least for the moment. Before Marge could protest, I said, “It’s much too nice to do the prep work in. Don’t worry, I’ll put it on when the tour starts.”
    “I thought you were supposed to demonstrate making the beignets during the tour,” she said.
    “I am, but since I’ll be making them all day, I thought I’d get a jump on things by measuring out batches of some of the ingredients I’ll be using to save time. Surely that’s acceptable.”
    “I suppose,” Marge said, as her doorbell rang. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back. No one’s supposed to be here yet. Who could it be?”
    I left her to it, since I had problems of my own. Butterflies were starting to dance in my stomach, and I was beginning to regret the heavy breakfast mymother had forced on me. I didn’t usually get nervous before I cooked, but then again, I normally didn’t do it with an audience, either. There was just one solution; I needed to get to work so I could forget about the audience that would be coming soon enough. I was scooping out quantities of flour when Marge came back into the kitchen, trailing Peg Masterson, the entirely unpleasant head of the tour.
    “Suzanne, why aren’t you wearing your smock and hat? Marge, you did as I asked and bought them, didn’t you?”
    “Of course I did,” she said defensively.
    “I wanted