Wicked Whoopie Pies Addison Moore (the false prince series TXT) 📖

influencer who ruled that site crowned Evie as the new queen, and she’s been just that ever since.

“Wow, Evie.” Noah picks up another fresh baked chocolate chip cookie. “That’s really nice of you. You’ve got enough rabid fans to launch just about anyone’s career. When’s the big debut?”

“Tonight.” She picks a cookie off Noah’s plate.

“I thought you said it was coming out later this summer?” I ask.

“The album.” She nods. “But we need to whet the public’s appetite first. She’s swinging by the house and we’re going to throw a little video together before we upload it. We’re hoping the song will chart fast. That way they’ll have to let her perform it on prom night.”

“A music video?” Carlotta’s mouth opens wide and I can practically see her antennae going up.

I shake my head her way. “No to whatever you’re thinking, Carlotta.”

“Oh hush, you.” Carlotta is quick to wave me off. “Don’t listen to the fun police, Evie Stevie. You’ve got what Lot Lot doesn’t—a creative mind that will drive you straight to the top.”

Evie tips her ear toward Carlotta. “My creative mind?”

“Nope, mine. We gotta go big with this one. You can’t just limit the video to your Insta Pictures account. You gotta hit your Rickety Rock account, too. Everyone knows Rickety Rock is all the rage.”

“Tickety Tock,” Evie corrects. “And I was thinking the same thing.” She squints over at Carlotta with an air of suspicion. “What other ideas do you have?”

Carlotta shoots me a look of disdain before hopping off her stool. “Let’s step to the side, Evie. The last thing we creative types need is someone sending us negative energy. Face it, Lot. Your superpowers lie in an entirely different direction.”

“Which direction is that?” I dare to ask.

“You’ve cornered the market on law enforcement hotties,” Carlotta points out. “You could kill half of Honey Hollow and pin the blame on whoever you want. You’ve got them both front and center, drooling over your cookies, just waiting for you to toss a little sugar their way. You’re a drug and you’ve got them both addicted, something awful. You slay your enemies in the street, and you slay your lovers between the sheets. Hey? That’s a snazzy tagline. I’ll give you that for free. Go ahead and hang it next to the menu board.”

“Lovers?” Evie retches. “Come on, Cray Cray. Let’s collaborate before I puke.” She pulls Carlotta to the side just as Suze strolls up, dusting some flour off her apron.

“Carlotta’s not alone on her thoughts on the manner.” Suze gives both Noah and Everett a stern look. Her blonde bangs are swooping so low over her eyes, you can hardly see them. “One day you boys are going to wake up and realize you’ve been bamboozled by Little Ms. Sweet Treat here. I’d say she’s destined to ruin your careers, but she’s already done that. Noah, you were thrown in the pokey and disgraced by your peers. Sure, you were reinstated, but at what cost? And you, Essex? Tsk, tsk. You were once a prominent judge, and here you haven’t seen the inside of a courtroom in months save for the time they were trying to prosecute you. And oh, I know you’re headed back to the bench. But are they really going to let you be in charge of anything better than sorting out parking tickets? You’re a drug, all right, Lottie. You’re LSD to these boys to be exact—a long, slow decline.”

“Mom,” Noah growls. “This is the mother of my child.”

“Oh, I know.” Suze is quick to wave it off. “And she’s Essex’s wife. Believe me, I’m familiar with the crop rotation system she’s working on you boys.” She shrugs. “You know Alex is seeing two women again. I suppose turnabout is fair play, and Lottie here can see two men. I just can’t believe she swept up the cream of the crop. Call me old-fashioned, but I’m still a firm believer in monogamy—as in a two-person maximum when it comes to the bedroom. But I suppose that would require quite the restraint for you kids these days.”

“So who’s Alex seeing?” I ask. It was either that or firing her for her impromptu soliloquy on the ills of modern love—of which I don’t consider myself a subscriber. Suze was wrong on so many points it was awe-inspiring to watch her weave a work of fiction under the guise of my life. Thank goodness Lyla Nell is too young to understand and Evie is too preoccupied with whatever Carlotta is feeding her. For the sake of family and employee unity, I’m going to overlook everything that came after she uttered Carlotta’s name. And anytime Carlotta is the sanest part of the conversation, you know you’ve got trouble.

Before she can answer, the bell chimes and in stalks Charlie with her hair disheveled, her Mangias T-shirt splattered with enough tomato sauce to make it clear she’s been in the pizza trenches, and the faint scent of garlic wafts in after her like a delicious Italian perfume. I’ll bet I’m looking at Alex’s new cutie right about now, too.

“Well, look at that,” Charlie muses, looking past Everett. “Carlotta’s showing off some of her best moves. She must really think highly of that kid of yours.”

I glance that way, and sure enough, Carlotta has her elbows out, her booty distended, and she’s wiggling and jiggling in an obscene manner.

“Hey,” I bark over at her. “This is a family establishment.”

She waves me off and continues to regale Evie with the many ways her body can defy gravity. I’ll admit, it’s a wonder to witness—one that will induce nightmares in anyone who bears witness to it, but a wonder nonetheless.

Charlie blows out a hard breath as she falls into the stool between Noah and Everett.

“Hard day at work?” I ask, sliding a plate with a chocolate and a pistachio whoopie pie her way.

“You can say that.” She takes an angry bite out of the pistachio one and I can see her