by Stacy Finz
Before Jace could respond, Danny came outside. He sagged into the rocking chair and took a long pull on his beer.
“My wife set us up.”
* * * *
For the second time that day, Danny told his story while Gina sat in Jace and Charlie’s living room, listening raptly. At first, she hadn’t believed him. But he had a sworn statement from Candace’s assistant, who knew everything. She’d been afraid of getting caught in the middle of the sham and had come clean to Danny.
Furthermore, Danny had managed to hack into Candace’s computer and had found that she’d been corresponding with a reporter from TMZ and had been the source of the pictures and the texts.
“Why me?” Gina asked. Of all the women to throw under the bus, why had Candace chosen Gina?
“She wanted everything you had,” Danny said. “Jesus, if you could hear her whine about how you had used your father’s name to claw your way to the top. She hated how FoodFlicks favored you over its other stars, how ChefAid had chosen you as brand ambassador because of your youth and beauty. She called you a no-talent, convincing herself that your success was based on your connections and looks instead of merit. Her jealousy of you kept her awake at night. It was sickening.”
Gina had been clueless about Candace’s animosity. Every interaction she’d ever had with the woman had been cordial, even friendly. Turns out, Candace Clay was a colossal phony.
As far as Gina’s success, it had been hard-won. Her father’s name had certainly gotten her foot in the door. She didn’t take that for granted. But if her ratings had fallen, FoodFlicks would’ve canceled her show without hesitation. ChefAid had partnered with her because she was a trusted name in the business—her frozen food line and kitchenware were top sellers—not because an appliance company needed sex appeal to hawk stoves and dishwashers.
“Why you, then? Why the divorce?” It was a personal question that under ordinary circumstances Gina wouldn’t have dared asked. But because the divorce was the impetus for Candace to concoct Gina’s downfall, it seemed only fair that she get answers.
Danny’s expression grew sheepish as he fiddled with a loose thread on the hem of his polo shirt. “I wasn’t exactly an exemplary husband.” He paused as three pairs of searching eyes bore a hole through him. “Candace’s best friend and I have been carrying on an affair for years.”
Everyone knew that Candace’s best friend was Valerie DeWalt, whose cookbooks were legendary. Valerie was a regular fixture on the Clays’ TV show.
“Candace found out at Christmas. As soon as our divorce is final, Valerie and I are getting married. This is Candace’s payback.”
“What I don’t understand is why didn’t Candace just expose you and Valerie. Okay, she hated my guts. But it seems like a lot of trouble and risk to punish me for your infidelity. What if she’d been caught?”
“She has been caught,” Jace interjected.
“Not soon enough to repair the damage she’s done.” Gina pinned Danny with a stare, waiting for him to answer her question. Everything Candace had done seemed so outrageous, so conniving that it was hard to believe.
“This wasn’t just about payback. It was a carefully orchestrated plan to win public sympathy and drum up enough publicity for her to become the new it girl…to be you and grab everything she could, including being the new face of ChefAid.”
Gina had never thought of herself as an it girl. In fact, she resented the label. An it girl implied that she was a flash in the pan, someone who wouldn’t last. To hell with that. She planned to have the same staying power as Julia Child or Martha Stewart.
“It was really quite genius from a publicity standpoint,” Danny continued. “Not only did she ruin me but she got a complete career makeover in the process. Because let’s face it, before all this, she and I were second-string players. Our show had become tired, unable to compete with the likes of you and the other young FoodFlicks stars.
“We were no longer getting invitations to host specials or judge the competition shows. It was just a matter of time before we were has-beens. Or maybe we already were.” He let out a bitter laugh. “The thing is, I’d like to continue to have a career, even if it’s an off-season show at six o’clock in the morning. After Candace gets through with me, I’ll need the salary.”
Gina didn’t know if the public would forgive him. Although he hadn’t cheated with Gina, he’d been unfaithful in his marriage to a woman who had a significant following. Their show might’ve been limping along in the ratings, but Candace had been one of FoodFlicks’ pioneers.
Not her problem, she reminded herself. She had her own career to rescue.
“How do we get this out into the world?” she asked Sawyer.
Sawyer stood up, walked behind the couch, and put his hand on Gina’s shoulder, then turned to Danny. “Are you willing to go public with everything you’ve told us, including your relationship with Candace’s best friend?”
Danny didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“Why?” Jace asked.
Gina had the same question. From where she was sitting Danny still looked like a major POS. What did going public buy him?
“The truth: I don’t want her to win.”
Wow, and to think these two people once took vows to cherish each other until death did them part. Yet another reason not to surrender to love, Gina thought.
“We could talk to Paolo at Eater.” Sawyer came around the couch and sat next to Gina.
“Before we do anything, I want to loop your mom in on this.”
“Wendy Dalton’s your mother? That explains a lot.”
Sawyer shot Danny a look and Danny waved him off. “I only meant that Candace had done her research. Everyone in the industry knew that Gina had hired Dalton and Associates to manage the crisis. Candace must’ve traced Wendy to you and the ranch and made an educated guess that it was where Gina had gone to lie low. Then sent that wormy photographer to check it out and drum up more trouble.”
So it hadn’t been Tiffany who’d blown the whistle after all.
“How did you wind up talking to the photographer?” Sawyer asked.
“He approached me and threatened to divulge Gina’s hideout if I didn’t pay him five-thousand dollars.” He addressed Gina: “I tried to contact you about it but you wouldn’t take my calls.”
“Did you pay him?” Jace asked.
“No, but I told him I’d have him arrested for blackmail. Frankly, I don’t think he feared my threat.”
It was another piece of the puzzle. They still had the man’s memory card and could use the pictures to prove that he’d been to the ranch. It wouldn’t take too much work to connect him to Candace. More damning evidence against her.
Sawyer asked Danny to retell the entire story. This time while Sawyer taped it on his phone. An hour later he sent the recording to his mother and sent Danny to the nearest motel.
It had been one crazy day.
“I can’t imagine that this won’t clear you,” Sawyer said as he walked her home. “When the news breaks about what a scheming liar Candace is, ChefAid will rescind their offer to her and come running back to you. You could probably jack them up for more money.”
Gina laughed, though none of it was funny. “I don’t know about that.” She wasn’t even sure she still wanted to represent a company that had so easily dumped her after she’d put her heart and soul into promoting its products. From now on, she planned to be more discriminating about the brands she represented.
She thought about today, slinging hash at the coffee shop and her gut told her that in a similar situation Laney would’ve stood by her. The Daltons sure had. They had never once wavered in their loyalty. The knowledge of that put a lump in her throat.
“This will be a big story. Probably even bigger than the original story.”
“You would know.” She flashed a weak s
mile. The idea of facing the press all over again, even if it was to absolve herself, was exhausting. If she could take a long nap while the true story came out and wake up when it was over, she would.
“You going home soon, huh?”
She wondered if she’d heard regret in his voice or had she’d imagined it? Gina remembered his earlier words.
“Besides the fact that I wasn’t looking for a relationship, our lives don’t mesh. Not even a little.”
She quickly replied, “Yes. I’ll need to be hands-on to clean up the mess Candace made.”
They’d arrived at the cabin and loitered on the front porch. She wanted so badly for him to come inside. To stay the night.
“I don’t know how I can ever thank you for…Danny. The questions, the recording, the way you handled it. If it had been left to me I would’ve driven to Candace’s house and strangled her.”
Sawyer’s lips curved up. “Probably not a good idea. Jace would’ve had to arrest you.”
Under the porch light, they held each other’s gaze, then he looked away. The break in contact left her bereft and a sudden wave of loneliness wrapped around her like a shroud of gray.
Was this what life was like before Sawyer?
She forced herself to believe that as soon as she got back to her old surroundings and buried herself in work, the melancholy would dissipate.
“I guess this is it.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and rocked on his heels.
The air was still, not even a light breeze. There was only the sound of the creek and the stridulating of crickets while she deliberated on whether to beg him to come inside. One last time together before saying good-bye.
But she could see in his deep blue eyes that he’d already cut the cord and that she’d only humiliate herself.
“I’m falling for you and I don’t like it,” he’d told her.
Well, she didn’t like falling, either. She abhorred the vulnerable way it made her feel. It was easier to be alone, to have only herself to disappoint.
“I guess so,” she responded and started to say she hoped they’d stay in touch but stopped herself. She didn’t want to go through this each and every time they saw each other.
“You left a bunch of cooking stuff at my house. I could bring it by in the morning, leave it on your porch.”
“Consider it my gift to you. Something to go with your mother’s All-Clad pots.”
He gave an imperceptible nod. “Safe travels then.”
She watched him cross the field in the dark, her heart breaking a little piece at a time, and went inside.
Chapter 21
It was exactly how Sawyer predicted it would be. Even the Los Angeles Times had picked up the story about Candace Clay’s revenge publicity hoax. It was all the morning shows could talk about.
Candace would probably never work again. If she had any hope of redeeming herself, she’d take a page out of the Wendy Dalton playbook and announce that she was checking herself into rehab and later write an apologetic autobiography.
The public had done a 180 on Gina and she was getting offers far and wide.
Purina wanted her to have her own dog food line, Saturday Night Live asked her to host and ChefAid had come crawling back with their tail tucked between their legs. Sawyer had no idea whether Gina had agreed to take the company back, but she could probably demand her price.
As far as her show, she was in negotiations for two more seasons and was the top contender to host a new FoodFlicks reality show: Home cooks competing to make the best dish out of random pantry staples or some such nonsense.
Sawyer had ascertained all of this information from his mother. It had been two weeks and he hadn’t heard a word from Gina.
“Why don’t you call her?” Cash had offered as if Sawyer hadn’t thought of it himself. At least a dozen times he’d started to dial her number and hung up before her phone rang.
She was a star again, which was all she’d ever wanted. And he was free to continue his nomad’s life as a reporter. Different lanes, he reminded himself.
“Wake up.” Jace snapped his finger in Sawyer’s face. “Where’d you go?”
“I was just thinking about my new assignment,” Sawyer lied. “What? What did I miss?”
“Rumor is Randy’s got another buyer, someone other than Mitch.” Jace hung his arms over the corral fence railing while Cash threw a couple of flakes of hay to the horses. It was Sunday and they could linger over their morning ritual. “Word is that Mitch tried to lowball him and in the eleventh hour someone else swooped in.”
“Must’ve been another developer to sell that fast.” Sawyer assumed it was a company from Sacramento or the Bay Area, which might be even worse. Mitch was at least local and would probably make mild concessions on the scope of the project to appease the neighbors.
“I was at the coffee shop yesterday and no one seemed to know anything about it,” Cash said.
Sawyer nudged his head at Jace. “Who’s your source?”
“Charlie knows the real estate agent. She’s bought a couple of pieces from the store and told Charlie there was someone else, someone with deep pockets. That’s all I’ve got. But isn’t it a public record?”
Nodding, Sawyer leaned against the side of the barn. “But not until it closes escrow and even then the buyer could’ve used an obscure company name.” He shrugged. “But how long can it stay secret in this town? I suspect that within the next couple of days everyone will be talking about it.”
He puffed out a breath in the still air. The sale should’ve set him off, but his mind was elsewhere these days.
“If it was Mitch, the whole world would’ve known about it by now.” Cash wiped his hands on his jeans and joined them at the fence. “The sumbitch would’ve gloated. If not him, Mercedes would’ve screamed it from the rooftop of Reynolds Construction. I’ve never met a more devoted secretary. You’d think the woman was his mother. Or lover.”
“No one will be gloating when the project comes up on the city council agenda and I go to the meeting and object to it. I’ll get every damn neighbor to come with me.”
The folks around here would walk through fire for Jace, Sawyer had no doubt about that. Jace wasn’t just the sheriff, he was a friend to everyone in the county. But even so, he was no match for the machine.
“As soon as we find out we’ll come up with a plan,” Sawyer said. “Until then there’s not a whole lot we can do about it.”
Jace gave Sawyer a once-over. “You look like shit.” Sawyer hadn’t been sleeping well. “Charlie says Gina’s back on top, kicking ass and taking names.”
“They’ve been talking?” A wave of jealousy hit him, which was ridiculous. He was happy Gina and Charlie were friends. Aubrey too. The three women had gotten tight while Gina lived on the ranch. He would’ve lost respect for Gina if she’d thrown them over once she’d reclaimed her supernova status.
“Emailing, I think. Last I heard, they were all going to Vegas for a pre-wedding bachelorette deal later this month.” Jace lifted a brow. “I take it you haven’t heard from her.”
Sawyer gave a nonchalant toss of his head. “It was better to just end it. Who needs the fucking friend zone?”
Sawyer watched his two cousins weighing his words. Clearly, he wasn’t fooling them.
“Did she say she just wanted to stay friends?” Cash studied him.
She hadn’t said anything—that was the damn problem. “More or less.”
“More or less? Speak English, writer boy.” Jace poked Sawyer in the shoulder. “You screwed it up, didn’t you?”
Yeah, probably. He should’ve pushed, should’ve been more forthcoming about his feelings. But it wouldn’t have made any difference. “Can we talk about something else, for God’s sake?”
“Remember what you told me when I was limping around, crying in my
coffee over Charlie?”
“Or me, when I couldn’t get my shit together about Aubrey?” Cash pinned Sawyer with a look. “You told me to cowboy the hell up. Right back atcha, partner.”
“Yeah, yeah. Seriously, I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Sawyer pulled his sunglasses out of his front pocket and put them on. “Cash, did you get ahold of anyone else about Angie and the US Marshals Service situation?”
They’d briefed Jace on everything they’d learned thus far. Like them, Jace’s lips were sealed until they knew more.
“Still working on it,” Cash said, but there was a hesitance in his voice. He knew something. Sawyer had dealt with enough itchy sources to know when someone was holding back.
“You’ve got something, don’t you?”
Cash tipped his head. “Not ready to talk about it yet.”
Sawyer started to press, but Jace held up his hand. “Let Cash do his thing.”
Okay, Sawyer got it. It was like when he roughed out the first draft of an article with an editor looking over his shoulder, asking a lot of stupid questions before he’d had the chance to flesh out the story. Cash would talk when he had the full picture, not partial facts.
“I’m going home.” He waved his hat in the air and started across the field.
Soon, the days would go from being oppressively hot to pleasantly warm. Jace’s wedding would be here. Then they’d move the cattle down from the hills before the first freeze.
Before all of that, he’d travel to Central America for his magazine story, an assignment he’d been dragging his feet on accepting. If he didn’t sign the contract that had been sitting on his desk for weeks, Esquire would find someone else to do the piece.
He’d sign, scan, and send it as soon as he got home, he decided. There was nothing pressing to keep him here. And a set of new surroundings would do him good.
Keep the memories at bay.
On the way to his loft, he took a detour to Charlie’s. She was behind the barn, refinishing an old beadboard hutch on a drop cloth underneath a market umbrella.