“Izzie?”

Startled, Izzie yelped and spun toward the front of the shop, seeing a customer at the counter. So much for thinking she’d hear the bell-she’d been deafened by her own thoughts.

Recognizing the woman, a weary smile curled her lips. Lilith was a regular, who could supposedly read the future. A bit out there, but a good customer, and a nice one. “I’m sorry.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “My head was in the clouds.”

“If the clouds all smell like this bakery, that’s not a bad place to be.”

Maybe for the customers. But after practically living in this place for two months, Izzie was over the nauseatingly sweet smells that invaded her nostrils from morning till night. “Believe me, it’s not so great going home from work with hair scented like anisette and clothes that reek of ginger.”

“On the positive side, they say the scent of licorice is great for dieters because it controls your appetite.”

Didn’t seem to her that the sexy, short-haired brunette had anything to worry about in that regard. Frankly, neither did Izzie. She’d long since lost her taste for sweets…no more cookie-induced panty girdles for her. “Twizzlers can keep it. I try to ignore the smells unless someone burns something.”

“Oh, come on, no one at Natale’s ever burns anything.”

Quickly washing her hands, Izzie had barely dried them before Lilith pointed with impatience at the lone cannoli remaining in the front display case.

When Lilith told her she’d be eating in, rather than taking the cannoli to go, Izzie asked, “Got a reading?”

While she didn’t entirely believe in that stuff, Izzie knew a lot of regulars swore by Lilith’s spiritual readings. Though she’d never considered it before, Izzie half-wondered if the other woman could help her figure out the quagmire that was her life. Especially the Nick part of that quagmire.

“Nah, I’m taking a break from the medium world right now.”

“Just my luck. For the first time in my life I think I’d actually pay to have someone tell me who the heck I’m going to be next week.”

Izzie the baker? Izzie the stripper? Izzie the New Yorker? Izzie the Chicagoan? Izzie the horny?

That was the one she really wanted an answer to. Was she ever going to get laid again, and oh, please, please, please, would it actually be Nick Santori who did the laying?

She didn’t ask Lilith any of those things, though the medium promised she’d try to help her as soon as she was “back in business”-whatever that meant. But that might be too late. She might already have done something stupid-like having sex with Nick the bouncer as the Crimson Rose. Which would be fabulous but would make him hate her if he found out the truth.

Or something more stupid, like going out on a date with Nick, the guy up the block, which would have her parents planning their wedding. Then she’d hate herself.

Ordering a cappuccino to go with her treat, the mysterious brunette made herself at home at a front table, firing up a laptop. After making the frothy cappuccino, Izzie carried it over. “Doing some surfing?”

“I’m going to try. The most I’ve ever used the Web for is updating my Web site and answering e-mail.”

“Don’t forget shopping. Or maybe you’re going to start haunting chat rooms?”

“No, I’m doing research.”

Leaving the woman to it, Izzie went back to work. Concentrating on cleaning out the display cabinet, she was surprised to hear the bell jangle as another late-day customer came in. This one she didn’t recognize-and she definitely would have, if she’d seen her before. The leggy brunette was dressed entirely in sleek, black leather and she looked like a predatory cat. The sexy little motorcycle parked outside the door suggested the woman was a risk-taker and a rule-breaker.

Izzie liked her on sight.

“Hey, Izzie,” Lilith called, “what do you know about computers?”

Offering the new customer a quick smile, she answered, “Well, I don’t know how to find any naked pictures of Heath Ledger, and I haven’t figured out how to send a death ray to spammers, but I do the Web site for the bakery.” It was a basic one, but Izzie was pretty proud of it.

“I hear ya. So you know how to enlarge pictures? Other than ones of naked movie stars?”

Izzie grinned. “Yeah, give me a sec.” She looked at the newcomer. “What can I get you?”

“Espresso and a cannoli.”

“Sorry, Lilith took the last.”

Settling for just the espresso, the woman paid her and waited for her drink. After making it, Izzie went over to Lilith to see what help she could offer.

It wasn’t much. It turned out the medium needed to enlarge a grainy newspaper picture in order to see a ring on some guy’s finger. And Izzie just didn’t have the know-how to do it.

The newcomer in black leather, however, did. Joining them, she asked a few questions, then bent over Lilith’s computer and went to work. Watching her type, her fingers flying on the keys, Izzie figured she was experienced at this. But when the woman acknowledged that she was hacking into the newspaper Web site to try to find the original photo, she suspected there was a lot more than simple ballsiness to the woman.

She was mysterious. Maybe even a little dangerous.

They both seemed that way, really. Lilith with her supposed psychic abilities. This woman with her risky, who-gives-a-damn attitude. So unlike little Izzie of the bakery.

Maybe, however, not too unlike the Crimson Rose. She wondered what these two would think if they knew she wasn’t quite the sweet, simple bakery worker she appeared to be.

“Who is this guy, anyway?” the stranger asked. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to figure out if that ring is a wedding band and he’s the asshole you’ve been dating for the last three months.”

“Ew.”

“So he’s not your lover.”

“Say that again and I’ll dump the dregs on you. He’s a jerk I’m investigating.”

“A jerk?” The stranger snorted. “What makes him different from every other man on this planet?”

“Good question,” Izzie muttered, though her heart wasn’t really in it. Nick had always been one incredibly good guy. The fact that he wouldn’t have sex with her as a stripper didn’t mean he was a jerk.

Even though he was.

She wandered away from the other two, cleaning off the empty tables in preparation for closing. As she worked, she kept up with the other women’s conversation, trying to stay out of it, but unable to when she heard who Lilith was currently dating. Hearing that the sexy medium had hooked up with Mac Mancuso, a nice boy-next-door type turned Chicago cop, she had to put her two cents in. Mainly because their situations-whether Lilith would believe it or not-were very similar.

“Mac’s not a jerk. He grew up just a few blocks from here. Our families know each other. I’d think any woman would love to catch a good, honest cop like him.”

The stranger in black immediately stopped typing. “You’re sleeping with a cop.” Somehow, Izzie suspected the woman was allergic to anyone official-especially the police.

“I’m sleeping with him, not married to him,” Lilith insisted. “Trust me when I say that my definition of right and wrong varies from his by huge degrees.”

Huh. Sounding more and more like Izzie’s situation. She almost wished she and Lilith were alone so they could talk.

“Keep working and your next ten espressos are on me,” Lilith told the other woman.

“I won’t be around that long, but thanks for the offer.”

“Add her to my tab,” Lilith told Izzie. “Any time she stops in, coffee’s on me.” Glancing at the stranger, she asked, “What’s your name?”

“Seline.”

Amused since Lilith’s tab currently took up two pages in her accounts book, Izzie asked, “Does that mean you’re actually going to pay it someday?”

Lilith shrugged in unconcern, watching as Seline kept working. When she finally struck pay dirt and got Lilith the information she wanted, they both seemed triumphant.