Celeste Files: Unlocked (6 page)

“I’m not sure, wino, let me check.” She looked through their pantry, found the pinot, then grabbed two wine glasses. “Looks like you’re in luck.”

“Play your cards right and you’ll be getting lucky later.”

She shook her head and laughed. “If
I
play my cards right? Pretty sure of yourself.”

He uncorked the wine, then began pouring. When he was finished, he looked to Olivia, who tugged at her bib. “Your mommy kissed me first.”

“I did not.”

“Did, too. You practically threw yourself at me.”

“You’re so full of it,” she said, plating the stroganoff. “And aren’t you supposed to let the wine breathe?”

He shrugged. “I’m thirsty,” he said, and looked to their daughter, who was now shoving noodles into her mouth. “I love her.”

Celeste grinned. “Me, too.” Her smile fell when the memories of yesterday hit her, and she had to force a mouthful of stroganoff down her throat. If John knew what had happened, he might be furious and blame her for something she hadn’t been able to control.

After wiping her mouth with her napkin, she picked up her wine glass. “So, how’d it go in Pontiac?” Ian had started a new program where law enforcement agencies could hire CORE to train their people on how to handle crime scenes. Since John had worked for the FBI and was a criminalist, he’d been sent to Pontiac, Michigan, to work with the Oakland County Sheriff’s Department.

“Good, but a little boring. I’m heading back there again next week.”

Considering John was used to finding criminals, not teaching law enforcement how to find the evidence that could lead back to the bad guy, she could understand how these tutorials would bore him. “I think what you’re doing is important.” Finding evidence was one thing, knowing what to do with it and how it fit into the puzzle was another. Before her vision and the clues she’d gained from it could sidetrack her, she said, “I did something kind of important today.”

His forkful of stroganoff hovered at his lips. “What’s that?” he asked, before taking a bite.

“I made Jenny manager of the Sugar Shack.”

He finished chewing, then grinned. “Good choice. How does it feel to let go of some of the control?”

“I just did it today, so I’m not sure. But with Jen’s background in baking and her business sense, I think she’ll do great. I told her to hire someone to cover what duties she won’t be able to handle. I’ll have the final say, of course.”

“Of course,” he repeated with a grin, then let out a breath. “I know it’s hard to turn some of the business over to her, but, baby, you know it’s the right thing. You’ve lived and breathed the bakery since you’d started it. You’re a business woman, and I’m proud of you, but you need to also enjoy life.”

He was absolutely right. Giving up some of her day-to-day duties would free up her time and allow her to do other things.

Like find out who had killed Kelly’s mom.

“Anything else happen while I was gone?” he asked.

Now would be the perfect time to tell him the truth. “Kelly’s mom died,” she said, choosing to take baby steps.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, his voice and eyes genuine. “Do you want me to go to the wake with you?”

“That depends if my sister or brother can watch Olivia. They’re both so busy.” Her sister, Eden, who was married to John’s coworker, Hudson, was a former investigative reporter turned true crime novelist. Eden and Hudson also had a daughter, Hannah, who was a few months older than Olivia, and they, like her and John, led hectic lives. To avoid hiring outside babysitters, Eden and Celeste either used each other for help, or their brother, Will. “I have a feeling the funeral is going to be rough for the family—not that it’s ever easy,” she continued. “Kelly’s mom committed suicide.”

John picked up a roll. “No kidding? How long had the doctors given her?”

“I think another three months.”

He made a slight shrug as he buttered his roll. “I don’t blame her for taking her own life. Now her family can remember her the way she was, rather than how she would end up when the time came.” He looked up at her. “I’m sorry, hon. I didn’t mean…I’m sorry,” he repeated.

Celeste’s mom had died three years before she’d met John, but he was well aware of how hard her mom’s passing had been on her and how she still grieved. “It’s okay. I spoke with Kelly after I left the Sugar Shack. She sounded okay, but I’m sure that’ll change once the reality of her mom being gone hits her.” She broke off a piece of her roll and placed it on Olivia’s highchair tray. “I’m going to pick up Kelly’s daughter and drop her off with Olivia at the daycare, so she and her sister can handle the funeral arrangements and meet with her mom’s attorney. I’m also donating baked goods for the luncheon they plan to hold after the funeral.”

“You’re a good friend.”

“I wish there was more I could do for her.”
Tell him.
“And there might be. Yesterday evening I—” Her cell phone rang. “Sorry, let me see who it is.” She scooted her chair back, stood, then retrieved her phone from the counter. “It’s Jenny.” After she spoke with her new manager, she ended the call, then sat back down.

“Everything okay?”

“Everything is great. Jenny was calling to see if I’ll be available to interview a woman she knows from pastry school tomorrow afternoon.”

He grinned. “I still can’t believe you finally did it,” he said, picking up his wine glass. “Here’s to having you around more.”

She tapped her glass to his. “I’m around.”

“You might be here, but your mind isn’t. Or you’re busy planning menus, paying bills, dealing with marketing. Since the article in Chicago Magazine came out, the bakery has been swamped. You could almost hire another manager.”

“You’re right, and I’m sorry. It’s not fair to you or Olivia.”

He reached across the table and took her hand. “Celeste, I’m proud of you. You’ve pursued your dreams and built a thriving business. I know hiring people eats into your bottom line, but I’d love to see you free up even more of your time. You’ll need to if we’re going to have another baby.”

“I see,” she said, a little annoyed. “So now that Jenny is managing the bakery you’re finally and ever so graciously going to give up your super sperm. Very kind of you. I’m glad you’ve made this decision for us.”

He squeezed her hand before she could pull it away. “Don’t act like I’m trying to call the shots where our family is concerned. You know I want more kids.”

“On your terms,” she said, pushing her plate aside.

“That’s not true. We both agreed you’ve stretched yourself thin between Olivia and the business. Having another baby will put additional pressure on both of us.” He let go of her hand, then took his plate and stood. “Call me selfish, but I’ve missed my wife.”

She stared at John’s back as he rinsed his dish. Yes, she’d been busy juggling career and motherhood, but she hadn’t thought about how her business had affected her marriage. Other than nagging her about hiring extra help, John hadn’t said much about how she ran the bakery or that he’d felt neglected. Between his travel schedule and her devotion to the bakery and Olivia, she realized they really didn’t have much
private
time.

As Olivia continued to polish off her dinner, Celeste stood and went to the sink. She ran a hand along John’s back. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“I’ve been asking you to cut back on your hours since Olivia was born.”

“And I did.”

“No, you rearranged your schedule and brought work home. I’m tired of sitting on the couch alone while you’re in front of the computer dealing with payroll or whatever.” He took the dishtowel off the counter and, drying his hands, faced her. “I want another baby, but I need you to be around more.”

He was right. She’d been running on empty. There were many nights when John would put the moves on her, but she’d been too tired to love his body. That wasn’t how she’d envisioned their marriage, and the only person who could change their current unhealthy situation was her.

“Let me run the numbers. For now, I think I can afford to hire an assistant manager, which would free up my time to take care of payroll and such during the day, rather than at night.”

After setting the towel on the counter, he placed both hands on her shoulders. “Do it because you want to, not because of me.”

“Mama?” Olivia called, and stretched as far as her highchair straps would allow.

John chuckled, and, after wetting a paper towel, went to their daughter. “How can you be so chubby when half of your food is on your face?” he asked Olivia, and cleaned her cheeks and mouth. “Come on, munchkin. Let’s take a bath.”

“You’ve been gone all week,” Celeste said, and began cleaning the kitchen. “Let me finish up in here, then I’ll take care of Livy’s bath.”

“I have my girl covered. I’m sure you have work to do anyway. And, no, that wasn’t a dig.”

She rubbed his arm and gave Olivia’s damp cheek a kiss. “My work is finished.”

He reached around and grabbed her waist. “Good. That’ll give us time to practice our baby-making skills.”

Relieved they were back to teasing rather than on the verge of arguing, she smiled. “Practice does make perfect.”

After he left the room, and she cleaned the kitchen, her mind was on John and what he’d said. If he’d thought she was stretched thin now, what would he say if he knew about her visions, and that she was learning how to better understand her psychic abilities? Thank God Jenny had called before she’d told John her suspicions regarding Kelly’s mom. A new manager, and even an assistant manager, might help relieve the pressures of running her own business, but in reality she was trading one stress for another. Spending time with Maxine, practicing how to psychically ground herself while trying to discover if Kelly’s mom had been murdered would take hours from her day.

Hopefully she’d uncover the truth behind Kelly’s mom very soon. Even if she did, she’d still have to make sure she knew how to control her visions. When she’d been pregnant with Olivia, she’d experienced no psychic phenomena, but she suspected that was due to the trauma she’d suffered and not her pregnancy. Now that her mind no longer repressed her gift, she hadn’t a clue as to how that gift would be affected during pregnancy. Worried her sensitivity to the dead might increase, she would need to make sure she listened to everything Maxine could teach her.

Another baby.

She’d always wanted a big family and couldn’t wait to give Olivia a brother or sister. Her daughter’s squeals reached into the kitchen. A bigger family would mean they couldn’t stay in John’s condo for much longer. If she hired an assistant manager, they might not be able to save quickly enough to move into a bigger place. Instead of putting the cart before the horse, she’d concentrate on right now. And right now, she was ready to put her daughter to bed, then make love to her husband.

When she reached Olivia’s room, she stood in the doorway and watched as John finished zipping their daughter’s footie pajamas. He then scooped up Olivia and, snuggling her close, quietly sang
Hush Little Baby
. When Olivia hugged him back and sighed, tears welled in Celeste’s eyes. John was a good man and father. She loved being married to him and knew in her heart she had to be honest with him.

Together, they put Olivia to bed. After they shut off the light and went into their bedroom, he pulled her close. “I’ve missed you this week,” he said, kissing her along the throat. “There was a psychic advisor shop in the storefront across from my hotel. Every time I saw it, I thought of you.”

She had her opening. “And what did you think?”

“About this,” he murmured, and slid his hand beneath her yoga pants. “And this.” He ran his palm along her breast.

Her breath hitched as desire curled through her belly. “The psychic made you think of my butt and boobs?”

When he chuckled, his warm breath fanned across her lips. “Never saw her, but the store made me glad
my
psychic went into baking instead of fortune-telling.”

“That’s too bad,” she said, pushing his sweater up his torso and over his head. “Now that my time at the Sugar Shack is going to be freed up, I was thinking about finding a mentor to help me regain my psychic powers.” She grinned and ran her hand along his hard chest. “For the good of mankind, of course.”

“Of course.” He pulled her shirt off, then unhooked her bra. “But I prefer living with a sexy baker.”

“Why’s that?” she asked, breathless when he dragged her pants down her legs, then pressed her against the mattress.

“I’ve gotten used to your creepy gnomes,” he said, kissing a path along her stomach. “But the psychic stuff…not so much.”

Although turned on and anxious for him to kiss his way to between her thighs, she couldn’t help resenting his comment. “Are you saying that when I still had my gift, it used to creep you out?”

He stopped mid-kiss and looked up at her. “Creepy is for the gnomes, not my wife.” He stood, removed the rest of his clothes, then settled her on the center of the bed. After covering her with his big body, he smoothed her curls away from her face. “I love you, every part of you. But when you were having visions, it scared the hell out of me. I don’t want what happened in Wisconsin to ever repeat itself. I love you too much to lose you.”

The sharp blades of guilt pierced her chest. “I love you, too. And I’m not going anywhere.” She reached between their bodies and stroked him. “I do have a prediction, though.”