The Look of Love by Mary Jane Clark

all that, she was thrilled that she was missing it herself.
    Now, this was living! January, but no heavy coats, no hats, no gloves, and the only scarves worn were light ones draped for style, not warmth. Maybe she should think about relocating for a while. She loved Manhattan, but she knew there was so much more work to be found out here. Los Angeles was the place to be for young actors trying to make it in the entertainment business.
    She was excited about the audition for the TV commercial Gabe had arranged for her next week. That was the problem, though: She was always excited. Every prospect unleashed her imagination. She knew that one role could lead to another and another and another. In reality she seldom got the roles. Yet she was always able to move forward. Piper knew that she had to keep putting herself out there. She believed that eventually she would find her way.
    Piper reminded herself of the primary reason she was here in California: She had a wedding cake to make. Her plan was to go down for some breakfast, explore Elysium a bit more, and then see about going over to the Monastery of the Angels to sample some of the famous pumpkin bread baked in their kitchen and talk to the sisters about how they were going to adapt the recipe to make pumpkin cake. She wasn’t quite sure how that would play out, since the sisters were supposed to talk as little as possible.
    She dressed in a loose-fitting shirt, a pair of leggings, and flats. Piper pulled her long hair into a ponytail, applied a little mascara and lip gloss, and was ready to go. As she left the room, she clicked off the TV, then grabbed a notepad and pencil from the desk and put them into her oversize purse, making certain that her BlackBerry and wallet were also inside.
    There were several empty tables in the dining room, but when Piper noticed that there was seating on the patio, she decided to have breakfast outside. Scanning the menu, she ordered an egg-white omelet with spinach, mushrooms, smoked mozzarella, and tomatoes. While she sipped a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice, she settled into her chair and admired her surroundings.
    The patio looked out over the hills in the distance as well as the sweeping lawns of the Elysium property. An ornate gazebo stood in the center of the green expanse. Piper took the pencil and paper from her purse and began to sketch. Perhaps the gazebo could serve as a starting point for the wedding cake’s design.
    “That’s a pretty good likeness. It’s nice to know our wedding-cake maker is so artistic.”
    Piper looked up to see a tall, good-looking man with dark hair and a bright smile standing next to her chair. She recognized him as the man who’d been working in vain to save Esperanza in the cottage the day before.
    “I’m Ben Dixon, the groom,” he said. “We didn’t formally meet yesterday.”
    “Piper Donovan.” They shook hands.
    “May I?” he asked.
    “Sure,” said Piper as Ben seated himself across the table from her. Immediately, a server with a carafe in hand arrived to take his order.
    “Just coffee,” Ben said as he watched the steaming liquid being poured. “And a bowl of strawberries, please.” He turned to Piper. “Yesterday wasn’t exactly the best way to get started, was it?”
    “No, not quite,” she said. “I can’t stop seeing that poor woman’s face.”
    “I know what you mean,” said Ben. He picked up his cup and drank. “I’ve seen people die before, but Esperanza’s death is especially upsetting. She had already been through so much.”
    Piper nodded, aware that he was referring to the acid attack. “Did you know her well?” she asked.
    “You could say that. I’m a psychiatrist, and Esperanza had been in therapy with me. She was about to leave Elysium.”
    Piper sighed. “That must have been rough for her. I know it sounds strange, but she probably felt really safe here. And with everything that happened, I’m sure it was nice for her to feel so taken care