“Well, glad to have you here,” Leonard told Zed. “Siobhan should be delivering the pies any minute.”

Leonard checked the time on his phone. Frankly, it was strange that the pies weren’t there already. Even with the late notice, Siobhan always had a reserve of pies in case of a rush.

“Oh, I cancelled that order,” Jessica said. “Pie just seems like a heavy, messy food for an after-lunch meeting. I got a fruit plate and some gluten-free muffins instead.”

Absolute silence.

Every single person in the room was staring at Jessica in horror. Zed actually clutched his chest like he was having a heart attack.

“What have you done?” Dani whispered.

“Do you think we come to these meetings for the fruit?” Ivy Portenoy demanded. When Alex’s brows rose, she added, “OK, sure we come here to for important Bayou matters and to make the world a better place…but mostly, it’s the pie!”

“I think it’s the gluten-free muffins that’s pushing her over the edge,” Sonja murmured.

“It’s a healthier option!” Jessica insisted. “There’s no reason for the League to pay exorbitant prices for locally made pies. They’re not even artisanal! I think Siobhan uses lard in her crust!”

Zed leveled a look at Alex. “We need to have a talk.”

Jillian cleared her throat, struggling to keep a pleasant expression on her face. “Leonard, please offer Siobhan our deepest apologies and assure her that order will not be changed again in the near future.”

“Got it,” Leonard leapt up from his chair and jogged across the street. No wonder Bathtilda was so snippy with him in the pie shoppe earlier. She’d thought he cancelled the League’s regular meeting order without explanation. Siobhan met him at the door, smirking, carrying a stack of pie boxes.

“Siobhan, I wouldn’t have run out of here earlier if I’d known she cancelled the order. I’m so sorry,” Leonard said.

“Sonja already texted,” she said. “Apologies accepted. Also, I had Bathtilda add a twenty percent pain-in-my-ass fee to the invoice.”

“You text?” he asked, tilting his head as he stared at her.

“I’m ancient, not outdated,” she replied, handing him the boxes. “Get with the times, Leonard.”

“Make it a thirty percent pain-in-the-ass fee,” he told her, before running back across Main Street. He could hear her cackling behind him.