Ted was examining the letter. “I wish the sender had signed it. Then I’d have a better idea what to think. This could be the work of a loony. Or somebody who has a grudge against the school. It could even be somebody who didn’t make the team.”

“I don’t think so, Ted. It sounds real to me. So did the first letter, for that matter.”

The bell on the door jangled just then, announcing Sue’s arrival. “Why so serious? Did somebody die?”

Lucy was relieved to see that Sue didn’t seem to be holding a grudge. Indeed, she looked inordinately pleased with herself as she set down a foil-covered plate on the counter.

“Hardly,” said Phyllis, fanning herself with a press release. “Somebody wrote a letter saying the football team plays naked Twister.”

“Naked Twister? I never thought of that. It sounds like fun.” Sue was smiling, just thinking about it. “With the right person, of course. I don’t know if Sid would be up for it. He’s not really all that flexible, anyway. It would have to be somebody younger, somebody like Johnny Damon. Or maybe that football player, Tom Brady. Now there’s a cutie.”

“Sue!”

“Just teasing,” she said, removing the foil and revealing a pyramid of frosted chocolate squares. “Voila! You must try these.”

They all took a step forward, drawn by the aroma of chocolate.

“Those look delicious.”

“Are they brownies?”

“Do they have carbs?”

“Yes, to all three. Now taste them.”

“I can’t,” said Phyllis, rushing out of the office.

“Atkins,” said Lucy. She picked up one of the luscious-looking squares of chocolate.

“MMMph,” said Ted, practically inhaling one and reaching for a second. “Mmmm.”

“Ted tends to overreact,” said Lucy. “He never met a food he didn’t like.” She took a bite and found herself swooning and moaning with pleasure. “These are better than sex,” she said, when she’d recovered her senses.

“That’s inspired, Lucy! That’s what I’m going to call them. Better-Than-Sex Brownies. I think they’re going to be a sensation at the bake sale.”

“What’s in them?”

“Trade secret.”

“They’re not low-carb, are they?” She cocked an eyebrow. “Chris won’t like that.”

“Chris will love them. They’re going to sell like hotcakes. And we can charge a small fortune for them. Trust me. Once the word goes out people will be flocking to buy them. They’ll be coming in droves. In busloads. Screaming for Better-Than-Sex Brownies.”

“Some people might find the name offensive,” said Ted, reaching for a third.

“You don’t want to spoil your appetite,” said Sue, snatching the plate away.

“Please,” said Ted, a hint of a whimper in his voice.

“Take it back about the name.”

“It’s not offensive at all,” he said. “I was wrong. Very wrong. Now can I have another? Please?”