She had to bake far more than when she’d first started because the demand was so high. Her little shop had caught on and soon she would have to hire someone to help her. If business continued to increase, she’d be able to hire help in the next couple of months. She was fairly certain her business had picked up because of Alonzo. She had a couple of celebrities come in a few times. Jake Bannaconni, a local billionaire, had come in saying Alonzo raved about her baked goods and he was taking some home to his wife and children. That was huge. After that, some of his employees began to come.

Timur came into the shop as she opened it. Clearly he’d been waiting for the door to be unlocked. He strode in as she flipped her sign to open and then made her way back to the counter. He had never come in so early before and he seemed much more tense than usual—which meant he was definitely scaring her.

Inwardly she sighed. She had no idea how her little shop had become the hangout for the local mafia, but she couldn’t very well ask them to stop coming. Maybe Alonzo would listen to her but she didn’t want to go through another couple of months wondering where he was, if he was all right and whom he was with.

“What’s wrong?” Timur demanded, leaning on the counter. “You’re frowning. I’ve never seen you frown before. Not even when you’re dealing with a crazy customer. Sometimes I want to take my gun out and shoot them for you.”

Evangeline supposed she should be grateful he wanted to shoot someone for her, but it only confirmed she’d managed to get in over her head with the criminal element in her beloved new home.

“I appreciate that you don’t,” she said softly and then found herself laughing. What else could she do? She was never going to ask Alonzo to stay away. “What brings you in so early? Can’t live without your macaroons?”

“Alonzo wanted me to come in and talk to you.” His eyes were hard. Flat and cold, very similar to Alonzo’s. Too similar. Even the color was the same, that piercing, beautiful glacier blue. As if deep inside both men were mountains of ice that could never be thawed. That was how she thought of Alonzo. Timur was . . . difficult. He didn’t like her. He especially didn’t like Alonzo anywhere near her.

“Talk to me about what?” She fixed a latte for him without him asking for it, glancing over her shoulder as she asked the question.

“He wants me to explain things to you before he comes in.”