The Ghost of Grey Fox Inn Read Online Free PDF Page B

larger-than-life woman emerged from the back—she wore a white apron, and her hands were covered with a thin layer of flour. “Well, hello, honey!” she boomed at the sight of Charlotte. “Oh, I see you brought some friends today!”
    â€œHi, Carla,” Charlotte said. It was the first time I’d seen her smile today.
    â€œCome on inside, everybody,” Carla said, usheringus farther in with a wave of her enormous arm. “I just pulled a tray of blackberry muffins from the oven—y’all can be my guinea pigs.”
    And before I knew it, a warm muffin oozing with blackberry juice was stuffed into my hands. I took a bite and groaned. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” I said through a mouthful.
    Carla hooted with laughter. “Girl, you’re just trying to get on my good side, ain’t you?” She turned to Charlotte. “Now, honey, have you brought them?”
    Charlotte rifled through her purse until she found a small white box. When she opened it, I saw four silver charms inside, each one with a white ribbon tied to it. She handed the box to Carla. “What are those for?” George asked.
    â€œIt’s part of a Southern wedding tradition,” Charlotte explained, “called a charm cake. In addition to the wedding cake, the couple has a second cake made with different charms baked between the layers. The ribbons are left trailing out. During the reception, each of the bridesmaids and the maid of honor chooses aribbon and pulls out the charm. The charms all have different meanings.”
    â€œKind of like a fortune cookie,” George said.
    Charlotte nodded.
    â€œSpeaking of charm,” Carla said, leaning across the counter, “how about you tell that charming fiancé of yours to do a local interest story about a very special bakery right here in downtown Charleston?”
    Charlotte chuckled. “For you, Carla—anything,” she said.
    â€œOoh, sugar,” Carla hummed with a blinding smile, “I’m going to bake you a cake you are never going to forget!”
    Next we made our way to the florist, which was only a few blocks away. The shop was bustling with employees rushing in and out with bundles of flowers, while a tall, reedy man barked orders at them from behind a desk. “The lilies are for the Rogers/Flynn wedding, not the Thompson funeral! And get those orchids on ice before they wilt!”
    â€œI’m sorry to bother you,” Charlotte said, walkingup to him. “But I’ve just come to drop off a check for the remainder of my order.”
    â€œIt’s not a bother, my dear,” the man said, dabbing at his forehead with a handkerchief. “It’s always like this in the late summer months. Everyone is either getting married or dying, all at the same time.” He took the check from her hand and squinted at it. “Hmm,” he muttered, and tapped at the keys of his laptop.
    â€œIs something wrong?” Charlotte asked.
    â€œAh, yes,” the man said, looking at the screen. “I’m sorry, miss, but this isn’t enough to cover the cost.”
    Charlotte looked perplexed. “I don’t understand. I called just last week, and this was the figure you quoted me.”
    The man nodded. “Yes, but that was before you changed the rose color from white to yellow. We don’t get a lot of demand for yellow roses, so I had to have them custom ordered.”
    Charlotte had gone pale. “Changed the color? But—but I never did that.”
    â€œYou must be mistaken, miss,” the man replied. “I gota call from you just yesterday, making that specific request. I thought it was strange myself, given what most people think about yellow roses, but I figured, to each his own.”
    Charlotte had her head in her hands. I turned to her and asked, “Why would someone impersonate you just to change the color of your roses? It doesn’t