Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive.

That phrase spins around and around in my mind all the way to Fallbrook.

“Homicide?” Everett says, still stunned long after the fact. “Lottie, those creatures you’re privy to, you’ve got to report yourself to the authorities.”

“What?” I squawk so loud I nearly jump right out of my seat. “Essex Everett Baxter, if you think you’re going to turn me in to some government authority, you can drop me off right here and I’ll walk all the way back to Honey Hollow—through the snow, uphill both ways. There is no way on earth I’m going to fess up to my supernatural abilities. They have special jackets for people like me, and believe me when I say it’s not a designer I’m interested in.”

He shakes his head. “Nobody is going to put you in a straitjacket.” He winces. “Okay, so they might. But you have to admit you could save a lot of people’s lives.”

“And how would I do that? Say I see a dearly departed furry friend romping around the party we’re headed to. Do I alert everyone in the room that they might just breathe their last in a few short hours? I’m sure your sister would love me for that.”

“She might if you off one of her exes.” A momentary grin glides across his face.

“Ha-ha, not funny. Face it. My gift is essentially useless. But I’m not. I’m determined to find Eve Hollister’s killer, and I’m going to start by probing her terrible children.”

“In that case, you’re going to love me.”

A chill runs through me when he says those words. Noah is convinced that Everett’s friendship with me is some giant ploy to lead me away from him.

He lifts a finger off the steering wheel. “I ran into Daphne Hollister down at the courthouse this afternoon.”

“Daphne? The sister with the tight bun face-lift? Let me guess. She was arrested for rudeness.” Highly probable, all things considering.

“Hardly. She’s a litigator—public prosecutor. I thought she looked familiar. I’ve only seen her around a handful of times. She asked me to lunch.”

My stomach bottoms out. “Did you go?” I can feel my cheeks flushing for no apparent reason.

“Nope. I closed up shop early so I can make it out to my sister’s party. When I mentioned Fallbrook, Daphne said her brother lived out there.”

“Really? Wow, you’re right! I totally love you, Everett. Congratulations. You just kicked off this investigation. Hey? Do you think he’ll be at the party tonight?”

“Nope. Daphne said he’s a recluse for the most part. Works as an accountant during the day, spends his nights at a gambling casino.”

“But I thought there weren’t any casinos in the entire state of Vermont?”

“There aren’t.” His gaze remains steady on the road. “Not any that happen to be legal.”

“Oh. Oh. Oh no.” I close my eyes as visions of that Martinelle Finance debacle come back to mind. There happens to be a strip club in Leeds—I’m looking at you, Red Satin—that houses an underground gambling casino. “I guess we’ll hit the strip club afterward.”

“Just like old times, Lemon. Just like old times.”

“Aren’t you the lucky Baxter.” I offer up a wry smile along with the play on his surname and squeeze a chuckle from him.

Everett takes us back into the country, down a long, expansive road that leads to an enormous circular driveway in front of the most beautiful old-world castle I have ever seen. The entire façade is covered in stone and ivy with tall cathedral-like leaded windows, and there’s wrought iron everywhere you look. Tons of expensive cars line the periphery. And impeccably dressed people do their best to ditch the snow as they make their way inside. I can see a chandelier sparkling through the enormous double glass doors, and it shines into the night like a warning beacon that says beware all who enter here—these people are filthy rich.

“Wow, I didn’t realize she was having such a fancy shindig and at such a nice place. Is this an inn, a hotel—some sort of a country club?”

Everett lets out a genuine laugh, and it catches me off guard. “This is my mother’s home, Lemon. You left out museum. That would be a close second.”

I knew that Everett’s mother had loads of money. He told me all about the fact she’s a bona fide upper cruster—a hotel heiress by socialite trade. But I had no idea she was mega wealthy. It must have been such a culture shock for Noah to have lived in this kind of a world even for a moment. I know it would have been for me.

Everett gives the keys to the valet and helps usher me and my meager box of bakery treats inside.

I glance down at my severely unimpressive accouterments. “I didn’t even go home to change. I’m so embarrassed! I’ll be the only one wearing jeans and a sweater. I’m willing to bet even the help will be dressed better than I am. They’re going to hate me—your fiancée. What was I thinking? You should have totally brought Lily and perhaps her sorority sisters, too. They are far more your equal, and they all look like chic supermodels even in their yoga pants.”

“I’m glad you’re here. And, believe me, my mother is going to love you. Why should they care if you dressed for comfort?” He wraps an arm around me as we enter the palatial estate. “Our love runs deeper than clothing, isn’t that right, Cupcake?” I offer a wry smile at the nickname. Everett called me that last month while we were pretending to be on a date. And it looks as if it’s his preferred moniker for me. “If anyone asks, we’ll just tell them that I prefer you naked.”

Noah blinks through my mind—naked, of course. “So not funny.”

The house, if you can call it that, and, honestly, it does not qualify in any rational sense, has sweeping white marble floors and exaggeratingly tall ceilings. Banquet tables are set out with a wide and varied buffet dinner, and everyone inside is dressed to the nines, all in black, not one ounce of color in the bunch—unless you count my worn jeans with a hole in the knee and my bright red sweater. About a dozen or so women look our way, and I’m betting they’re each playing a game of one of these things is not like the other, one of these things just doesn’t belong. And that thing would be me.

Jazz music bleats through invisible speakers at a higher decibel than comfortable in order to carry on a decent conversation. Waiters and waitresses, yes—dressed in impeccably gorgeous black suits and itty-bitty dresses—walk around with a tray of champagne flutes and some with appetizers. It’s all so fancy I want to curl up into my sweater as if it were a turtle shell and crawl the heck out of here.

An older woman, dark hair, sparkling black sequin gown, heels so tall that my own feet ache for hers speeds toward us with her arms extended. She has a swath of red lipstick on, and her eyes sparkle a familiar shade of cobalt blue just like Everett’s.

“Darling, how I’ve missed you.” She pulls Everett into a warm embrace before pulling back and inspecting me. “May I help you?” She glances down at the bright pink box in my hands—equally out of place in this monochromatic wonderland. “Oh goodness, you’re looking for the kitchen. In the future, please use the back entry. I’m afraid it breaks the spell.”

She cast a spell? Why am I sensing a theme today?

Everett pulls me in close. “Mother, this is—” Before he can finish, a gorgeous brunette with her hair done up in wild curls, her body tucked into a dress that I’m willing to bet she had painted onto her flesh comes over and squeals with delight as she wraps her arms around him.

“Everybody!” She pulls back, shouting at the top of her lungs, and the entire room goes silent. My God, even the music obeyed her command for attention. “This is my big brother, Essex!”

“Essex?” I nudge him with my elbow, and his brows converge like a bird in flight.

“It’s family,” he whispers. “I have no say over it.”

The room breaks out into a bevy of cheerful greetings.

She looks around. “Where is this mystery fiancée of yours? We’re all dying to meet her. You do realize I’ve been chomping at the bit for months.”

Everett let me know on the way over that his family was notorious for setting him up with women he had no interest in, and this little white lie was the only way to stop that terror.

Everett once again lands his arm around my waist. “Mom, Meghan, meet Lottie Lemon. She’s the town baker, and she bewitched me with her cookies.”

Again with the witchy theme? I’m not sure I like where this is going. And given the way people are gawking at me and my egregiously loud sweater, a burning at the stake just might be in my future.

Both his mother’s and sister’s mouths fall open on cue as their scrutinizing gazes ride up and down my body.

His mother claps her hands together as if she might faint. “Well, isn’t she adorable?” Her voice rises high as she begins to cackle. She’s either had a touch too much champagne or she means it.

Meghan extends her hand, and I shake it.

“I have a sister named Meg, too.” I’m not sure why I said it, and now that the three of them are staring at me as if I sprouted another head, I can tell they’re not sure either.

“My name is Meg-han,” she over enunciates as if I were from another planet, and, in all honesty, I am in comparison to the rest of the people in this room. Something tells me both my tax bracket and my alarmingly red sweater have the power to get me kicked out on my ripped Levi’s rear.

“Oh, I see. Yeah, she’s actually a Margaret and…” I let the sentence trail off because the amount of awkward I just brought to the conversation deserves no more words.

Meghan bites down hard over her lower lip, so much so that her red lipstick cakes onto her teeth. “A hometown girl. I just love it. Welcome to my dirty thirty!” A spike of laughter emits from her as well, and I’m starting to feel like both a novelty and a joke.

His mother extends her hand. “Eliza Baxter. Please call me Lizzy. I’m just like one of you. I’ve never really bought into this money circus I’m caught up in.”

Everett lifts a suspicious brow her way. “Lemon brought some treats for the occasion.”

“Ooh, let’s see.” Meghan takes the box and lifts the lid. Suddenly, I’m wishing I brought my black and white cookies. At least they’d fit in. The misshapen birthday cake cookies with their bleeding bright colors look as if a toddler made them.

Meghan pops one into her mouth and groans out loud before swallowing. “Welcome to the family, Lolly!” She whoops it up, and I shake my head at Everett before he can correct her. They can call me Lobotomy for all I care. I’ll be out of here in less than a few hours. “So, when’s the big day? They two of you can’t stay engaged forever.”

“Oh—right.” I glare up at Everett for even concocting the deception. “What do you think, honey? You up for penciling in a date? Wait, you don’t believe in penciling things in—do you?” I turn to his mother and sister. “He’s quite spontaneous.”

Everett cinches his grip over my waist. “That’s right, Cupcake. We might just elope.”

His mother immediately frowns at the thought. “Please don’t. I haven’t used my finest china in years, and I’m so hoping at least one of my children will let me host a rehearsal dinner in the least. So, how did the two of you meet?”

Meghan nods. “Was it love at first bite?” She pops another one of my birthday cake cookies into her mouth, and I feel a sense of vindication for bringing them.

Everett relays the story of our courthouse meet and greet and even goes as far as revealing the fact we’re next-door neighbors.

“My goodness, I’m going to die,” his sister bleats with a hand to her chest. “It’s all so very romantic. The girl next door, Essex? Nobody will believe it.” She leans in close to him. “You do realize Cormack is here. She just has to meet Lolly. There are no words to convey this miracle. She must see it for herself.”

Why do I get the feeling I’m being belittled once again?

Eliza leans in. “Excuse me, the congressman just walked in.” She lifts a finger to Everett. “You’ll spend the night. The weather is wretched. I have your old room ready for the two of you.” She takes off before I can protest. There is no way we’re spending the night. In fact, I draw the line at spending the night. That is a very hard threshold, thank you very much. I might look as if I’m in my pajamas compared to the rest of these people, but that does not mean I’m curling up on the first mattress I see. Especially not with Everett right there next to me.

“No,” he flatlines to his sister. “No Cormack. And my fiancée’s name it Lottie.” I do believe that is the first time he’s said my name or darn near close to it outside of the initial introduction, and I can’t help but pinch a smile.

“Who’s Cormack?” I blink up at him. “Is that a judge you’re friends with? Another litigator you know?”

Meghan’s eyes expand the size of planets. “You don’t know about Cormack?” Her mouth hangs wide with glee. “Once upon a time we had an adorable brother named Noah—step. His father was an ass. Long story short, Noah swiped this boy’s main squeeze right from under him.” She wrinkles her nose and leans in. “His heart has never quite recovered. Quite frankly, I was surprised to hear of your engagement. I firmly believed there was no one for my Essex but Cormack.”

I suck in a sharp breath. The girl! The girl who Noah and Everett have only mentioned in angry murmurs—she’s here! The girl who started this war between them that’s lasted years. The very girl who Noah thinks Everett is using me as a tool of revenge over. Huh.

“Oh, my ever living word,” I say as I scour the vicinity. “Where is she?” I’m in a panic to find her, and yet I have no idea what she looks like.

“Never mind where she is.” Everett gives his sister a brisk wave as he swoops us into the thicket of bodies on the dance floor and adheres his hips to mine. “This night is about you and me, Lemon. We won’t mention her again.”

“But Everett, she’s here. This is my chance to see the girl who launched a thousand wars between you and Noah. If I don’t see her, the curiosity is simply going to kill me. You do realize that she’s most likely watching you—watching us. Now I’m twice as embarrassed that I look like I just stepped off the soccer mom circuit.” A thought comes to me. “Hey! I bet she’s going to cut in any minute now.”

His chest rumbles with a laugh, and it echoes through my own body. “It doesn’t matter if she sees us. And if she tries to cut in, I’ll tell her I’m taken.”

“But you’re really not.” A sudden sadness sweeps over me, and it’s all for Everett. “Your heart is still broken after all these years, isn’t it?”

Before he can answer, a tall blonde steps between us. Her eyes are a celadon green, so light they actually look illuminated from the inside. She wears a hot pink smile, has straight unreasonably white teeth, and has a perfect pointed noise with a dart of a cleft in her chin.

“Essex, it’s been years.”

His eyes close a moment as if in defeat. “Cormack.”

“My goodness, it’s really you!” I thrust my hand forward as if meeting a rock star. “Lottie Lemon.”

“My fiancée.” Everett is quick to tag my presence with the moniker.

Her brows bounce into her forehead. “Fiancée? Wow.” She takes a staggering step back, revealing a stunning black dress with spaghetti straps that crisscross in the front seductively. She’s svelte, and toned, and far too tan to live in the same state as the rest of us. Something tells me she’s not even from the same planet. Her eyes narrow in on his. “I was sort of hoping you were single.” She holds up a bare left hand. “Divorced.” She shrugs. “It’s true what they say. All the good ones are taken. Unless, of course, Noah is still available. I can always fly down to Honey Hollow on my broomstick and swoop him up.” A cackling laugh bursts from her before she drops her gaze to the floor as if reflecting on that high school malfeasance. “You know, Essex, I always thought our time would come. I guess I was wrong.” Tears glitter in her eyes a moment before she sharpens her gaze on me. “I guess I was never what you were looking for after all.” She takes off into the crowd, and I choke in the aftermath of her strange words.

“What was that supposed to mean? Why do I get the feeling all of these people think they’re better than me?”

“Because they do. And they’re wrong, Lemon. Don’t tell Noah I said so, but he did me a favor all those years ago.”

“I’m starting to think that’s the first truth you’ve told all night.” I shoot a wry look in the witchy direction she took off in. I can’t help it. She drew first broomstick when she threatened to steal my Noah.

His lips lift on one end, and I’ll take that partial smile all the way to the bank. Soon enough we’re treated to Meghan’s wonderfully moist vanilla birthday cake that was fashioned into the shape of a man’s most prized member, his penis.

Honest to God, I would never bake an X-rated cake. I would never purchase an X-rated cake for such an elegant party with such elegant, important people. But the crowd whooped and hollered and about fifty women took a selfie with it before Meghan took a knife and whacked it right off its base. Everett may have winced during the decapitation.

Throngs of people drain from the grand hall, and no sooner do I get my own coat on than Everett shakes his head while looking at his phone.

“It’s really coming down. There are blizzard-like conditions out there, and the main pass from Fallbrook to Honey Hollow is closed.”

“What does that mean?” My voice hikes in a panic because I think I know.

“It means I’m about to introduce you to my old bedroom, Cupcake.”

“Oh no, I’m certain there are other vacancies in Casa Baxter.”

“Not for my fiancée.” He winces. “I’m sorry, Lemon. It’s just one night. It’ll be over before you know it.”

“Is that what you say to all the girls before you take them to bed?”

“I’m not laughing,” he says, leading us upstairs.

“Neither am I.”

It turns out, Everett’s old bedroom is an expansive domain that can easily dwarf both the bakery and the Honey Pot. There’s an oversized desk, and bookshelves line every free wall.

“It looks as if your boyhood bedroom is missing one important feature, a bed.”

Everett leads us to a conjoining room, eagerly proving me wrong.

“It’s en suite. There’s a his or hers closet and a bathtub that some have called a swimming pool. My mother made sure when she built this place that every bedroom could double as a master.”

“But of course,” I tease. “Seriously though? This is very impressive. And this is exactly why you should never bring Lily or any of your other future exes anywhere near the premises. Once they smell this kind of money, you’ll have a whole new problem on your hands.”

“That’s what I like about you, Lemon. You’re not like that. And it’s also why I like to immerse myself in my work. Speaking of which, I’ve got cases all week.” He pulls out his phone and his fingers fly across the screen. “I just called in for tomorrow. I suggest you do the same.”

“Good Lord.” I text Margo, the head chef from the Honey Pot Diner, and ask if she can open the bakery for me in the morning, and she more than graciously agrees.

Everett gives his tie a quick yank before pulling it off altogether.

“What are you doing?” The sudden urge to run around to the opposite side of the bed hits me, and I do just that.

His lids hood dangerously low, and his lips curve with devilish intent. “We’re going to bed.” His jacket glides off at a quickened pace.

“Wait just a minute. Aren’t you going to sleep on the floor? Or in that bathtub the size of a swimming pool?”

His fingers fumble with his belt, his eyes still pinned on mine. “Bad back. Feel free to build a pillow fort between us if you must.” He gives a sly wink before shutting off the lights, and I gingerly take off my shoes and crawl into bed.

The moonlight beams through the flimsy curtains and illuminates the darkness with the light of noonday, and I can see Everett’s fingers work open his shirt. My eyes squeeze shut tight. The distinct sound of pants unzipping then dropping to the floor enlivens the room like a grenade.

“Dear God.” My voice fractures as I pull the covers to my neck. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t sleep with clothes on.”

“Any clothes?” A choking sound emits from me. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

I don’t build a pillow fort. Instead, I cringe with every breath and movement Everett makes as he crawls into bed alongside me.

“Night, Lemon.”

“Night.”

Neither of us called it a good one.