Mike had paid hell, and he knew there’d be more hell to pay at his next stop.For whatever reason, whether because of the alignment of the stars or someone in the heavens messing with his life, things had not gone according to plan. He had a sense of humor, but he also had a limit before he didn’t find that shit funny anymore.A quick cruise down Main Street told him most of the shops were closed up tight. Even his destination. But as he passed the century-old building, he saw a light in the back and pulled around to the alley.Sure enough, Fiona’s rental car was parked in the alley, and the door to the shop was propped open by a big white bucket. He shook his head. Hadn’t she promised to keep the door locked?He parked his SUV next to her car, got out, and opened the door to Miranda Lambert’s “Fastest Girl in Town” blasting on the radio. At the stainless prep table, Fiona was busy singing along, swinging her hips, and squeezing the frosting from a decorating bag onto a tray of cupcakes.Instead of interrupting, he leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb, folded his arms, and stood back to watch.For days, he’d shuffled through airports, spoken to people of authority and in general, dealt with the giant shitstorm his sister Celina had stirred up in California.
