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The Chocolate Comeback (Love at the Chocolate Shop Book 7)

Page 3

by Roxanne Snopek


  DeeDee rolled her eyes and flung one leg over the arm of the chair. “I’m in the midst of a minor career reassessment. Last thing I want or need is a man.”

  But the best part about having a twin was also the worst part, and Maddie wasn’t about to let her off the hook.

  “You’re having a major existential crisis,” Maddie corrected, “and you’re lonely. What’s really going on with you? Don’t think I didn’t notice how you sidestepped all the questions last night. Career reassessment, my butt.”

  She snorted as she hung her coat up, then went into the kitchen.

  DeeDee wanted to talk to Maddie, she really did. But admitting defeat… even to her sister… rankled.

  “A girl can’t come home without getting the third degree? Maybe fame and fortune’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

  “Looks like your coffee’s ready. Want me to pour you a cup? Cream? Sugar? Sodium pentothal?”

  DeeDee let her head fall back and stared up at the ceiling. She didn’t know anyone still had stippled ceilings. “Any chance you’ve got vodka?”

  “It’s one o’clock in the afternoon. The only reason you’re back in little old Marietta, Montana is that the shine’s worn off the Big Apple. You wouldn’t leave on your own. You got ejected.”

  “Did I order a big piece of your mind or did I order vodka?”

  Cutlery clattered and clanged.

  “I speak the truth in love, sweet womb mate.” Maddie handed her the steaming cup. “Now, start talking. What’s really going on with you? I’m not blind. Those bags under your eyes aren’t Louis Vuitton, honey.”

  “Thanks a lot, sis.” DeeDee took a sip, letting the hot liquid trickle down her throat, chasing a chill that had set up so deep inside she wasn’t even aware of it until it started going away.

  Maddie waited, then gave an exasperated huff. “You want me to beat it out of you? You’ve been a ghost since Christmas. Before Christmas. Not returning my calls. Voice mailbox full. One word answers from texts. Do you know how worried I’ve been?”

  Guilt twisted inside DeeDee’s belly and she massaged the spot just above her navel, automatically checking the smoothness of her waistline as well.

  “I came back when Norm was sick.”

  Maddie sniffed. “You were here for a week.”

  “I stayed until he was out of danger. What was I supposed to do? Put my life on hold indefinitely?”

  Tension zinged between them. Unlike most people, Maddie didn’t back down from her.

  “Like the rest of us, you mean? Mom needed you, DeeDee. I needed you.”

  With Cynthia focused on Norm, all Mom’s emotional havoc would have fallen to Maddie. Having already lost one husband, their mom had been a basket case.

  “I know.” DeeDee looked away. “It was a chicken-shit move. Sorry.”

  The anxiety that rose in her at the memory of that week threatened to cut off her breath. She’d been terrified. The second she could, she’d raced back to New York where she could pretend all was well, everyone she loved was fine, and no one was suffering, hurting, struggling, or afraid. Pretending. Putting on a good face. That was DeeDee Cash’s talent.

  “No, I’m sorry.” Maddie hung her head. “I guess that’s been building up. I didn’t mean to dump it on you like that, though.”

  “Fair’s fair,” DeeDee said.

  Their eyes met, Maddie’s shining with tears. DeeDee’s welled up in response.

  “That’s enough of that, then.” Maddie took a deep breath. “Let’s get back to the true story of what you’ve been up to and what really brought you home.”

  DeeDee looked away. She owed Maddie the truth. At least a portion of it.

  “I’m not exactly the supermodel I led people to believe,” she admitted.

  “I kind of figured that since we haven’t seen you in anything. I asked Mom what kind of supermodel has zero face recognition, but she just ignored me.”

  “I’ll tell you what kind.” DeeDee glanced at her sister over the lip of her mug. “The kind whose face isn’t the focus of attention. I’m not proud of what I did out there, Maddie.”

  Maddie’s eyes widened. “Oh. God. Don’t tell me—”

  DeeDee stared at her for a moment, then gave a bark of laughter. “No! Good Lord, Maddie! No porn, no table dancing, no escort services. Nothing like that.”

  Her twin heaved a huge sigh. “I’d support you, whatever your choices, you know that. But I’m glad to hear it. So, what were you doing?”

  DeeDee swallowed. “You know that big-box hardware store that’s going national?”

  “Tool Barn?” Maddie wrinkled her nose.

  “I played a clerk in one of their print ads. My agent made me take acting classes, and that’s what they got me.”

  DeeDee’s big break had come in the form of an unrecognizable side-view image of her in an orange ball cap and apron, standing behind a cash register. The image was emblazoned on flyers inserted in newspapers, which would end up lining bird cages. It was a onetime, work-for-hire fee.

  It had taken her six months to pay Jon back for the acting classes.

  “Nothing wrong with that,” Maddie said. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  DeeDee shuddered. Maddie’s determination to be supportive was almost as bad as Jon’s laughter.

  “I also got a cable TV gig for a vaccine campaign, playing someone suffering from shingles. Have you seen shingles? It’s a big, red, blistery rash. They made me look like I had the acne breakout from hell all down one side of my neck and shoulder. Thank goodness they shot me in shadow.”

  And that wasn’t all. She steeled herself to be honest with the one person who’d understand and keep it to herself.

  “But you know what’s most famous about me so far? And I use the word famous loosely,” she added.

  “What?”

  “My feet.” DeeDee put a hand to her face, unable to look her sister in the eye. “Maddie, my feet are the face of Dr. Dorne’s Corn and Callus Palace.”

  She peeked through her fingers. Maddie stared, slack-jawed. Then she burst into laughter.

  DeeDee stiffened. “You don’t have to be quite so delighted.”

  “Oh, but I do!” Her twin could barely get the words out. “This calls for chocolate.”

  Maddie went to the kitchen, continuing to giggle as she opened and closed cupboard doors. Clementine barked, running circles around her legs. Maddie lobbed a beautifully wrapped piece of Sage Carrigan O’Dell’s Copper Mountain Chocolate.

  “You know I can’t eat that.” DeeDee glowered at her sister.

  “Eat it anyway.” Maddie returned her gaze steadily from over the rim of her mug. “You could do with some sweetening.”

  DeeDee gave up and bit into the chocolate. The dark shell broke apart to reveal a smooth buttery center that melted on her tongue and made her forget all her problems for a moment.

  “Oh, my God, Maddie. This stuff is amazing.” If she wasn’t a model anymore, did it matter if she gained a few pounds?

  “I know, right?” Maddie grinned. “It’s the cure for everything. So, you’re Princess of the Callus Palace.”

  “I’m trusting you with this intel, Maddie.” She swallowed. “I left to become rich and famous. Instead, I’m broke and pathetic. How do I come back from that?”

  Chapter Three

  “See those little purple flowers?” Isaac gestured to a blanket of lavender and white blooms poking up beneath the trees in Bramble Park. One of the things he loved about Marietta was having walking trails a few steps from their front door. He’d had to drive several miles from his Chicago condo to find nature.

  “Can I pick them?” Mark’s face was wide open with pleasure.

  Isaac felt that awful combination of happiness at his brother’s easy joy and guilt that there’d been so little of it in the past few years. Isaac was going to change that.

  After the scene with Mrs. Hatcher at the May Bell, they’d gone to the Main Street Diner for a big breakfast of
bacon, eggs, and pancakes—everything Mark wanted but shouldn’t have.

  Isaac didn’t know what else to do.

  He’d contacted his clients and postponed his teleconferences until tomorrow, but tomorrow wouldn’t be any better. How could he bring Mark back to that place after he’d pissed off the person in charge?

  In hindsight, he didn’t know how he hadn’t realized the environment wasn’t sufficiently stimulating for someone as high-functioning as Mark.

  He handed his brother a disposable camera. “How about you take pictures instead of picking them? That way, other people can enjoy the flowers too.”

  On the other side of the park, two women ran their way. Even from a distance, Isaac could tell they were pretty. Marietta wasn’t just friendly; it had an unusually high percentage of extraordinarily attractive residents.

  Maybe it was his imagination.

  Or maybe simply knowing that none of them were Jodi-Lyn allowed him to see pretty women again. Not that he was looking. Now that he was on the other side of the relationship, he recognized his lovely ex-fiancée symbolized everything that had been wrong with his old life. Wrong, selfish, shortsighted, and superficial.

  That was the old Isaac.

  He was still driven to succeed, but now he worked from home in jeans or sweatpants and went to the park with his kid brother, who may not be a kid anymore, but would always need him.

  Mark immediately began snapping pictures, and Isaac suspected at least half the roll would be shots of his finger. Maybe an inexpensive digital camera would be a better option.

  “Come on,” he said. “We’ve got our workout gear on. Let’s try some running. We need to work off those pancakes, right?”

  He jogged in place, hoping to get some enthusiasm out of Mark. At the group home where he’d stayed before the move to Marietta, Mark had added ten pounds to his already-hefty frame. Isaac was determined that his brother would learn to enjoy a healthy, active lifestyle, nutritious food, and hopefully make some new friends.

  Unfortunately, Mark’s easygoing nature turned mulish when it came to giving up sweets, and the only way to get him to exercise was to trick him into it, something Isaac objected to on principle but was now rethinking.

  “Running makes my feet hurt.” Mark screwed up his face and danced from foot to foot as if he had to pee.

  “Do you have to go to the washroom? I asked you twice before we left the diner.”

  “No. My feet hurt. I wanna take more pitchers.”

  “We’ll run from this tree to that lamppost, then you can take more pictures. Okay, buddy?”

  Mark twisted his lips, then gave a huge exhale. “Okay.”

  He groaned loudly with every step. Isaac bit back a smile and joined him. Every little bit of progress counted.

  As they made their way across the park, he recognized one of the pretty women as the real estate agent who’d sold him his house.

  “Is that Maddie?” Mark asked, perking up. Mark had his own fondness for pretty women and had enjoyed Madeleine Cash’s company immensely. He’d begged Isaac to buy another house, just so they could spend more time with Maddie.

  “It looks like it.”

  Mark had admired Jodi-Lyn at first too.

  Madeleine was with a woman who could only be her sister, according to the unmistakable family resemblance. Genetics had been kind to the Cash women. Though the sister was a little on the thin side, she had endless, amazing legs and a body to match. It was too early in the year for the tight shorts she was wearing, but Isaac wasn’t complaining.

  “Maddie’s friend is so pretty. Who is she, Isaac?”

  “Don’t know, bud.” He raised his hand, getting an answering wave from Maddie. “But I think we’re going to find out.”

  *

  DeeDee bent over, bracing her hands on her knees to catch her breath, wondering what made Maddie think jogging would lift her spirits. Perusing the want ads this afternoon had been both humbling and terrifying, as was writing her résumé.

  “At least if I die,” she gasped, “I won’t have to worry about job interviews.”

  The sun was going down, and she was freezing. She had to do something to stay fit now that she was back in the land of home cooking, but she’d underestimated the difference between the great outdoors and a climate-controlled gym. March snow still clung to the hollows beneath the huge trees in Bramble Park, and the long shadows they cast would leave the ground frosty come morning.

  Maddie pulled up behind her, then reached back and tugged her heel against her butt to stretch out the front of her leg. “Hey, see those guys? I know them. They’re new in town. They just bought a house from me. Let’s say hi.”

  DeeDee followed Maddie’s gaze and spied two men heading their way, also in running gear. One was tall and athletic, the other short and wide, like a fireplug. Even from this distance, DeeDee could see he was handicapped in some way. The tall guy jogged backward and forward as if impatient to get going.

  “No cowboys, Maddie.” Never again.

  “Isaac’s not a cowboy.” She grabbed DeeDee’s elbow and lowered her voice. “He’s in finance. Private investing or something. Money management, I think. I’m not sure. And I’m not talking about your love life. Last time I spoke to him, he was looking to hire someone.”

  “If you saw my bank statements, you’d realize that finance is not my wheelhouse.”

  “Never mind that. How would you feel about being a care aide?”

  DeeDee laughed. “Care aide? This is me you’re talking to. Those are not words commonly associated with me.” She glanced at the two men again. “Especially if you’re talking about short-bus, there.”

  Maddie shot her a disapproving look. “Really? You’re better than that, DeeDee.”

  A pang of remorse tweaked her stomach. It was just a joke. “Don’t bet on it.”

  “His name is Mark, and he has Down syndrome. He’s Isaac’s brother and a real sweetie.”

  “Then he doesn’t deserve me. Mom replaced Goldie the Goldfish twelve times and I didn’t even notice.”

  Maddie waved away her concerns. “You were eight. You’ve grown.”

  As they watched, the tall man bent over the short guy, patting his back or something. It was an awkwardly nurturing gesture, the wild-animal power of the man contained, tamped down, channeled into an unfamiliar outlet. It tweaked something inside her—that kindness.

  “What makes you think he’d even consider hiring me?”

  Maddie shrugged. “Gut instinct.”

  “What’s his story?” DeeDee asked. “Another gorgeous cowboy who inherited a fortune from some long-forgotten relative?”

  Marietta seemed to be overrepresented with men like that. Chad and Eric Anders, Austin Sweet, even Maddie’s boyfriend Mick.

  Technically, Maddie and DeeDee were heiresses themselves, though they’d blown through their trust funds years ago.

  “He’s not a cowboy. I told you. Here they come. Let me do the talking, okay?”

  Maddie tended to believe she knew best about everyone, and she was right just enough to be annoying.

  DeeDee couldn’t afford to be fussy about work anymore, but she still preferred to make her own choices. Then, as the men came nearer, thoughts, worries, and concerns of all kind slipped away.

  A shaft of sunlight burst through the mountains as the taller one came into clear view, painting him with the last of the gold and scarlet rays, first his head, then shoulders, then body and legs, like a hero emerging from the shadows in a movie. Time slowed and oh-em-gee.

  Gorgeous was an understatement.

  He had the easy, long-limbed walk of a man at ease with his power, comfortable with himself inside and out. And what an outside it was, olive-toned skin with a shadow of stubble on his jaw. Full lips tipped up in a slight smile, and wavy dark hair that fell across his forehead. He moved with the kind of masculine grace that made her think of wild animals. Leopards. Tigers.

  No. Mustangs, all bunching, flexing muscle
s—speed, power, and danger.

  If the Hallelujah chorus had started up, a flock of doves fluttered from the trees behind him, and a rainbow formed overhead, DeeDee would not have been surprised. It was only fitting.

  But then the shorter man came out… and the needle on the record player of DeeDee’s vinyl fantasy screeched to a stop.

  “Hi, Maddie, hi! I took pitchers of flars.” The round dude had a halting lisp and robust lungs. Thick glasses slid down his nose. He turned to DeeDee. “What’s your name? I’m Mark. You’re even prettier than Maddie. You cold? You wanna borrow my jacket?”

  Before DeeDee knew what was happening, she was enveloped in the tent-like garment. She shivered, wrinkling her nose at the slightly sour smell, then tried to shrug it off. “I’m okay, thanks.”

  Children always made DeeDee nervous. Children in grown-up bodies were far, far worse. She didn’t know how to behave around them. She never could tell what they were going to do or say. And they were so often sticky.

  “DeeDee,” Maddie said, her eyes glittering with excitement. “This is Isaac Litton and his brother Mark. Isaac and Mark, my twin sister, Deirdre Cash.”

  Isaac stuck out his hand. When DeeDee took it, she had that wonderful, awful feeling of all her senses going on high alert. Whether to press between the pages of a book, or recite to an investigator, the details surrounding this moment were important and must be remembered.

  “Hello,” she said, breathless again. “How are you?”

  “Good to meet you, Deirdre,” Isaac said. His voice was deep, serious, but there was light dancing in the back of his dark eyes. His grip was warm and firm, sending tingles through her knees, all the way to her toes.

  “Great! I’m… great.” She was an idiot.

  “DeeDee, DeeDee. That’s a funny name.” Mark grasped her hand and pumped it hard enough to make her hair flop around her face.

  Isaac put his arm around Mark and tried to pull him away. “Mark. You’re going to shake her arm off.”

  Mark’s movements slowed as his face fell. Behind those thick lenses, his lashes flicked up and down.

  “No, he’s not.” DeeDee pressed her other hand on top of his, noticing it wasn’t sticky after all. “It’s fine. Nice to meet you, too, Mark.”

 

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