Chapter 3, Part 2: Suspicions

"I still don't understand that. You mean you've never gotten completely naked?"

"Well, obviously I was born naked, but... egh. I don't know! As a proper lady, I don't feel it's polite to my body to leave it so... unguarded like that."

"... Even in private? You are so bloody mental..."

"Ahem."


"Of course in private too, silly! I'm a lady! Part of being a lady is having manners even when no one else is--"

"AHEM."


"Oh come off it, you're just self-concious. How will you even, ya know, do it, when the time c--"

"AHEM!!"

A squeak left Honeydew's lips when she finally saw Molly's presence at the other side of the counter. "Ms. Macchiato! We were just--"

"Sitting on the counter, acting like children while I'm wasting my money paying you?!"

"I'm sorry, Molly, it won't happen again!"

Lichen rolled his eyes. "Oh who freaking cares, it's been deader in here than Honeydew's social life all afternoon... only thing we haven't done is mop the floors, Oh Queen-ly-ness."

Molasses sighed. Despite the fact she would love to berate them for acting unprofessionally, they were only teenagers--and, as much as she hated to admit it, correct.

After a moment of deep breaths to collect her temper, Molly slowed nodded. "I understand it's been slow, but please, try to keep your banter a bit more quiet... and preferably, not while sitting on the counter?" Lichen elbowed Honeydew with a 'told-ja', but his expression quickly soured when she added, "And bring up sex one more time during work, Lyke, and I'll ask Paprique what his going rate for neutering is."

Molly's cocoabean accent didn't often sound intimidating, but the combination of 'Paprique' and 'dismemberment' in the same sentence was the perfect composition of words to keep Lichen's tongue trapped firmly in his mouth.

"Now," she added. "At least pretend like you be working."

The truth of the matter is, this had been happening quite often, lately. Too much. Confecionaries were a competitive field in Sugar Valley, and although Molly played all the right tricks, knew all the right people, and  set up everything perfectly, there were still days that slowed to a crawl.

Most businesses took that into account. Most businesses would see the Bubble Buzzes continuing success, and believe Molly had it made--but she didn't. Not in her eyes.

She wasn't sure they were ready, but it needed to be done. It was time to move things ahead of schedule.

As she walked around the cafe, ponder it in her mind, her heart suddenly sank.

Merlot.

Her fingers touched the ivory keys of the piano, gently hitting a few un-graceful notes in succession. A few performers had come to play for the evening crowd, but they weren't the same.

They weren't the playful jazz with dark eyes and knowing smile.

The tipped hat, the caress on the small of her back.

She'd heard he'd been doing well, since she told him to leave--still playing pianos and heartstrings, still singing the blues, still making women's knees weak when he walked in a room.

She was still weak, and it'd been two months since he'd been in hers.

"Fudge, Merlot," she crooned to herself. "Why d'ya gotta go and listen to me so well."

Molly snapped to reality when she heard a small cough at the other side of the restaurant.

She didn't know the face, but it was familiar. She'd seen him in here quite often: always by himself, always wrapped up in a book or writing something on a computer. He was one of those customers that didn't care much for the coffee, instead roped into coming by a relative, and fell in love with the atmosphere so they keep coming back.

It was her least and most favorite kind of customer. Didn't get hooked enough for a big profit, but still spread the word... Or so, she hoped.

Yet, there was something different about him. Honeydew joked often about Molly's 'sixth sense', but call it what you will, those sidelong glances she occasionally caught from his eye ran something cold--not pleasant, but not unpleasant--up her spine. Usually that told her something, but with him? Nothing.

He was different, and Molly couldn't figure out why.

So she was going to find out...

... but not today.

"Molly--"

"Can it wait, Paprique?! I was just about to--"

"It's urgent."

Grumbling, Molly allowed herself to be pulled to the side, where Paprique whispered something inaudible into her ear.

"Already?!" she hissed back at him. "I just can't keep this guy off my back, can I..."

A few moments later, the door to the shop jingled open and close,  leaving a very disgruntled looking man and an anxious looking woman standing in the foyer.

"Are you sure you don't want me to order you anything, M-Mr. Spoom?"

"Of course not, Absinthee--do you think I'm mad? Stuff's probably laced with all sorts of nasty, wretched chemicals. Just do your job, and be prepared to leave."

"Yes, Mr. Spoom."

"And do remember to change my dry-cleaner, the amount of lint on this suit is preposterous."

"MAYOR! What a pleasant surprise!"

Putting on her brightest smile and most winning attitude, Molly glided into the entryway to greet her newest 'guest' with open arms. "I hope you're thirsty--the special today is Sulty Cinnabon Spice, bet that's right up your alley, mmm?"

"No, no, noooo, sorry, Ms. Macchiato--I'm simply here on business, assessing the establishment, making sure I'm familiar with all that's within my city."

"I see I see, well, I'm glad you finally found the... time... to stop by, your honor."

"Mmm, indeed. I don't believe you've met my assistant, either--this is Ms. Sambuca."

"Sir, if I may--the... cinna spice thing sounds really--"

"Not now Sinthee--Business, business!"

"So... what do you say, Ms. Macchiato--" Mayor Spoom spoke, silver tongue and wicked smile intact. "Care to give a curious man a tour?"

"Why of course--anything for you, Mayor."

"As you can see," she spoke lightly, gracefully sweeping her arms to indicate what was in front of her. "This is the dining area. Usually much busier than today, I might add--you've just caught us on a bit of a slow day, ya see."

"Mhm... But why all the empty room right here?" he snooped, pointing at the floor in front of him. "Why not maximize on the amount of occupants?"

"It's for dancin', silly," she smiled. "Every Friday night, the Buzz hosts a budding musician to come play for us, and usually the place gets quite rowdy and quite packed... too many tables would just get in the way."

"I see... you aren't violating any occupancy laws, are you?"

"Nah, sir--we been quite good about makin sure we don't do that. Don't you worry."

"Mhm," he responded skeptically. "Alright then... Shall we continue?"

As the pair disappeared down the corridor, Absinthee approached the counter with a very unsubtle expression of paranoia on her face. "Uuuuuhh... could you guys show me where the bathroom is?"

"Sure--I'll show you where the bathroom is... and I'll show you where a whole lotta other things are, too, you cute little fo--"

"UGH, Lichen, shut UP!" Honeydew threw a coin from a register at his face, causing him to duck out of the way. "Ms. Sambuca, just follow after where the other two went--it's the first door on the left."

"Oh... oh.. okay, thank you..."

When she'd disappeared, Lichen through the coin back at Dew--but missed.

"Hey, what's THAT for?!" she snubbed, sticking her tongue out at him.

"For always ruining my fun! First cute girl comes in here all day, and I barely get a word in."

"Ugh, whatever. Not like you had a chance, I can smell the sweat stains on that shirt all the way from here. Don't you know how to do laundry?!"

"'Course not, I'm a guy! That's what women are for!"

"UUUGH!"

Elsewhere, Mayor Spoom hunched his shoulders in defeat. His eyes searched the ceiling, then the floor, then examined every item in the room. His lips soured and pulled into a snarl.

"Nothing."

"Hmmm? You were expecting something else...?"

"Of course I was expecting something else--I'm not a dolt, Ms. Macchiato. I know who you are. I know what you've done--and what you're doing. I can't prove it, but I will..."

"Oh, you will, will you? Is dat so?"

"Don't play games with me. You may have everyone else in this town fooled, but none of them are looking beneath the surface--I know better."

"Mmmm... well, look all you want, your honor. You ain't gonna find a thing."

"Oh, I will. You underestimate me, Molasses... You shouldn't. I will find what you are hiding. Mark my words... you will rot behind bars, just like you deserve... just as soon as I catch you."

"I'd like to see you try."

Mayor Spoom could not have left the room fast enough; she was barely able to keep up with him, but as he neared the exit, he slowed to a halt. His face suddenly brightened, and the fake Mayor Spoom resumed his post. No one had to know the rage boiling beneath his skin.

"Well, Ms. Macchiato--it was a pleasure. I'm sure I'll see you again.. soon."

"Pleasure's all mine, your honor. Come back anytime."

The door behind them slammed a little harder than normal, leaving the glass quivering in the frame. Molly watched it in amusement, until he'd gone... then her face quickly fell to horror.

"Don't worry, she didn't find anything--I kept my eyes on her, like you asked."

"Good... good..." Molly responded, distantly.

"You going to be alright?"

"Yes--I'm just... I just thought I had more time to prepare."

"What are we going to do?" Paprique asked, his voice stone cold and solid as always.

"Well...." Molly considered this for a moment. She could stand back and let him come, but both herself and Spoom knew she couldn't hide everything forever. There had to be a better way... There simply had to.

She smiled. "We do the only thing we can. We fight."