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

by Roxanne Snopek

  Leda, the shorter of the two, gave him a big, bright smile with just enough bite to tell him not to underestimate her. Melinda, slightly softer looking, touched his arm with the easy familiarity so many people in the town had. He wasn’t used to it. But he liked it.

  “Leda’s married to Chad’s brother, Eric,” Deirdre continued. “Mel and her husband Austin live next door to them, at Sweet Montana Farms. Oh! There’s Maddie. Excuse me, I need to speak to her. Play nice, kiddos.”

  She disappeared, and Isaac smiled at the women. “There must be something special about the water in Marietta, Montana to produce so many lovely women.”

  The younger woman, Leda, gave a throaty laugh. “I guess we’ll see about that tomorrow. DeeDee’s got half the town taking a turn on the runway at her fashion show. You know, for a city boy, you sure flirt like a natural-born cowboy.”

  Melinda pulled him out of the way of someone carrying a tray of chocolates. “Austin and I are Chicago transplants, too,” she said, “so we can’t lay claim to the magic water, but you won’t find better people anywhere on this planet. How are you settling in?”

  “Good.” He glanced over to where Deirdre was chatting up another group of people. “It was rough at first. Mark doesn’t like change.”

  “I hear DeeDee’s been a big help.” Leda’s wide-eyed comment was a bit too innocent.

  Heat prickled his chest. “She is. Mark adores her.”

  “And you?” Leda persisted.

  Isaac stared blankly at her for a second before warmth flooded his cheeks. “Oh, no. It’s not like that. Deirdre works for me.”

  Leda gave a hoot of laughter. “I meant it looks like your brother adores you, too. Interesting, where you went with that. The Marietta water’s famous for a lot of things, you should know.”

  Isaac looked around him, desperate for rescue.

  “Quit torturing him, Leda.” Maddie Cash appeared suddenly and squeezed his elbow. “Isaac and DeeDee are just friends. And I’m sure he’s already figured out that she can be a challenge no matter what kind of relationship you have with her.”

  Isaac exhaled with relief, his cheeks puffing out momentarily. “You’ve got that right. But she’s rather remarkable, too. I’ve been pleasantly surprised.”

  Maddie’s eyebrows arched. “I’d like to mention, for no reason in particular, that Mick and I started out as a business relationship.”

  “And Mick didn’t plan to stay either, did he?” Leda said. “So, you never know, Isaac.”

  “I’m here for good,” Isaac said. “I wouldn’t uproot Mark again now that I’ve finally gotten him settled.”

  “You are.” Leda pointed her finger at him. “But who knows where DeeDee will end up. Right, Maddie? She’s not exactly a big fan of little Marietta. First chance she gets, she’ll hightail it out of here again. So, it’s just as well you keep things simple with her.”

  Maddie shot Leda a dirty look.

  “What?” Leda returned the look. “What did I say?”

  “People change, Leda,” Maddie said.

  The reminder echoed hollowly inside Isaac. Of course DeeDee had plans to leave. Whatever might be happening between them wouldn’t change that, and why should it? He’d told her he was unavailable. He had no right to be disappointed. Mark, however, would be devastated. She knew him well enough by now to predict his reaction. How dare Deirdre let Mark get attached to her if she had never intended to stick around?

  A hand touched his arm, and Maddie leaned toward him. “Don’t listen to Leda,” she whispered. “DeeDee thinks the only place she can shine is New York. But she’s changing. Please don’t say anything to her about this, okay? Give her a little time.”

  But before he could think about it anymore, someone gave a shrill whistle and the voices stilled.

  “Welcome, everyone,” DeeDee said from where she stood on a chair at the front of the room. “I just got a call from Sage. She and Portia are about to arrive. As you all know, this is a surprise party, so everyone quiet now. I’ll turn out the lights and when she opens the door, I’ll turn them back on and we’ll all yell surprise, okay?”

  She put a finger to her lips to shush them all and hit the light switch.

  How could she think that modeling was the only thing she was good at? Look at how she was managing this crowd. Look at the lovely party she’d put together, how thoughtful she’d been in arranging things just so for the young expectant mother.

  A hush fell over the room. Then, footsteps. Light flooded the room, and they all jumped up.

  “Surprise!”

  Someone screamed. Portia, the guest of honor, stood in the doorway, one hand gripping the frame, the other on her rounded belly. Her face was leached of color, her eyes like pie plates.

  Sage, DeeDee’s chocolate-making friend, put her arm around Portia, staring at the crowd. The skin around her eyes tightened and her lips flattened into a thin line.

  “DeeDee,” Sage said. “A word.”

  DeeDee quickly joined the two at the door, and then, to Isaac’s surprise, she clapped a hand over her mouth.

  What was going on?

  “Poor girl looked like she was going to faint,” Maddie said.

  “Portia or DeeDee?”

  “Both,” she whispered back.

  Sage bent over Portia, speaking low and earnestly to her, while DeeDee stepped back into the festive room. Her smile was tight and she was blinking too quickly. “Change of plan. We’re going to take it down a notch. Talk amongst yourselves for a moment, okay?”

  What had happened?

  Portia straightened her shoulders and entered the room, still like a deer in the headlights, but with courage now. Sage stuck closely to her side.

  There was no announcement this time, no shouts of surprise, no delighted exclamations. If Isaac had to guess, he’d say Portia looked torn between embarrassment, anxiety, and heartbreak.

  But she bravely addressed the room.

  “Thank you, everyone.” She swallowed, her slender throat working with the effort. “This is… very kind.”

  She put a hand to her mouth, tears sparkling in her eyes.

  “No presents if you cry,” DeeDee said, looking very close to tears herself. “So enough with the waterworks already.”

  Her tone was apparently the right mix of tender and tough because Portia gave a wobbly smile and began making her way into the crowd. But first, she gave DeeDee a huge hug.

  *

  DeeDee couldn’t have felt more horrible. She’d sent invitations out everywhere, thinking that the more people who came, the more gifts Portia would receive and the more supported she’d feel.

  She’d used the list Sage had given her as a starting point, and then added every name she could think of, encouraging the women to bring husbands and boyfriends where applicable. Showers weren’t hen parties anymore, after all.

  Secretly, she wanted Isaac to be there, to witness her triumph.

  It should have occurred to her that Portia, a pregnant woman without a partner, didn’t want to be surrounded by couples.

  Idiot. Thoughtless. Ditzy DeeDee, back at it.

  Sage recovered quickly to be her usual gracious self, but DeeDee could tell she was disappointed that the party had been a big, distressing social event, rather than the small, intimate gathering she’d intended.

  Awesome. She’d ruined another party. Wait until Cynthia heard. The fashion show was tomorrow and Cynthia was already stressed about it, though pretending she wasn’t.

  But she got her wish. Isaac was here, witnessing it all. DeeDee in her full glory, screwing up again.

  Served her right.

  Served him right, for that kiss.

  Her heart twisted. It was such a great kiss.

  “Something’s wrong with that girl,” said a crusty voice that could only belong to Carol Bingley.

  DeeDee’s head whipped up.

  The town gossip tipped her chin in Portia’s direction. She’d had her fair share of fun at the Cash
girls’ expense over the years. Not that they hadn’t given her reason to talk. But she and Maddie could take it.

  DeeDee wasn’t about to let Carol Bingley start bad mouthing Portia.

  “Whatever do you mean?” she asked in a silky tone. The woman had no ability to read body language, or she’d know already that she’d poked the beehive.

  “Look at her, all colly-wobbles because of a baby shower. If she’s embarrassed about her condition, it’s no one’s fault but her own. There’s only been one immaculate conception as far as I know, and it wasn’t this one.”

  “Luckily,” DeeDee said, biting the words off, “she’s got the support of her family and friends.”

  “For what that’s worth. Those Carrigan girls are all trouble.” Carol Bingley shook her head. “I don’t blame Hawksley. A widower, raising a pack of girls on his own. He did the best he could.”

  “Portia’s a Bishop, not a Carrigan,” DeeDee pointed out.

  “Her mother’s a Carrigan.” Carol waved away the detail. “Blood always tells. I don’t know why Sage is coddling her like this. If Portia’s going to do this on her own, she needs to toughen up, the sooner, the better. Especially if there’s something wrong with the baby. That aunt of hers had one with mental defects, after all. Maybe it runs in the family.”

  Isaac had joined her just in time to hear this part of Carol’s rant, and DeeDee saw him stiffen at her words.

  She put up a hand to keep him from talking. She had this, cold.

  “Dani Carrigan’s daughter has Down syndrome. There’s a young man over by the door with Down syndrome, too. His name is Mark. Sara Maria, the girl with him, is autistic. That cute kid standing by the food table is Jade. She has Asperger’s syndrome. You’ll want to watch what you say about people with special needs.”

  “Oh, I know, everyone’s special these days,” Carol said. “But no one hopes for an abnormal child. If it has problems, I don’t know how Portia will cope, an unwed mother as she is. Even if her baby is normal—”

  “Normal like who?” DeeDee lowered her voice. “You? I hope not.”

  Carol’s lips tightened. “No one would blame her for putting it up for adoption. Which makes you wonder why we’re having a party—”

  DeeDee grabbed Carol’s elbow and yanked her toward the door. “This,” she said, “is a happy event. You and your opinions aren’t welcome here. Now, get out.”

  She shoved her through the door and closed it behind her, barely managing to resist kicking it.

  “Well, well,” Isaac said. He was standing close enough that his body heat tugged at her like a force field. “Look who’s standing up for the underdogs of the world.”

  “The woman’s an ass. It was long overdue. Sorry you had to hear that.”

  Isaac gave her a long, slow look. “I’m not. You are amazing, Deirdre Cash.”

  Tears prickled at the backs of her eyes. “No, Isaac,” she said. “I’m really not.”

  “You are.” He touched her arm. “And while I’ve got you here, I’d like to tell you I’ve changed my mind.”

  Dread filled her, twisting her stomach again. “I’m kind of maxed-out on bad news, Isaac. If you’re going to fire me, please wait until after tomorrow. If you’re regretting that kiss, we can pretend it didn’t happen.”

  He lifted his hand to her cheek, brushing away a tear. His touch was so gentle that it made her eyes well up again. “Nothing like that. I just wanted to say that if Mark still wants to be in your show, it’s okay with me.”

  She barely managed not to leap into his arms. He hadn’t mentioned the kiss, her awkward declaration, the weird place they’d entered.

  She didn’t know what that meant.

  But he was still being lovely.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Less than twelve hours later, the community center was transformed for the show. The potted flowers from the shower were doing double duty, with the bulbs going to Cynthia and Sage for planting after everything was done. They’d offered them to Portia, but she insisted they keep them as she didn’t have the time, energy, or permanence for gardening.

  She’d been gracious about the baby shower. DeeDee had been right about one thing, at least. Portia had cleaned up on the presents front. She’d be writing thank-you notes for weeks. Her tremulous gratitude had been touching to see.

  Every time Portia alluded to her uncertain future, DeeDee wanted to cry. The unconscious way the quiet woman stroked her belly spoke of love, but her eyes were haunted, her excitement muted with caution.

  Whatever her secrets, she wasn’t sharing.

  DeeDee shook off the thoughts. If she should be worrying about any pregnant woman, it should be Cynthia, anyway. This fundraiser reflected on Cynthia’s company, so DeeDee was determined to make it the best fundraiser Marietta had ever seen.

  She gave a little wave to where Cynthia sat in a wheelchair next to the aisle. She’d been allowed to attend the event on the condition she restrict her enthusiasm to a queen-like wave. Mom, Norm, Chad, Maddie, and about a dozen other people hovered around, making sure she stayed calm.

  If only DeeDee had someone to keep her calm.

  Isaac would work.

  No, Isaac would only make things worse.

  She huddled just behind the curtain separating the changing area from the runway and forced herself to focus.

  She could worry about Isaac later.

  For now, the show must go on. It was a mock-up affair, of course, created by adding a sturdy length of sheet-covered two-by-fours and plywood that extended from the center of the stage, into the audience.

  The town had come out in force, she was relieved to note, hoping the models wouldn’t get nervous because of the crowd. Isaac was sitting near the front, his eyes glued to the curtain, his expression tight, worried. No small talk for him.

  She’d been shocked and delighted that he’d allowed Mark to participate, after all.

  She hoped he wouldn’t distract Mark.

  She wished he wasn’t distracting her.

  It was time to start. She glanced at her watch, then at Eric and Chad Anders, standing in the wings. Chad lifted one finger for her to wait while a small chattering group found their seats.

  She was pleased that the brothers, founders of Building Tomorrow and strong supporters of Logan Stafford’s program, had agreed to assist her at the mic. Their down-home sexy good looks always attracted attention and would ensure generous donations.

  The lights dimmed. Chad gave her the all-clear, plus a huge, supportive smile, and she stepped out into the spotlight.

  “Good afternoon everyone,” she said.

  The crowd, already quietening, grew still. So many eyes on her. Stage fright, that long-vanquished enemy, chuckled evilly at the back of her mind. She’d spent so many hours in front of an audience, having critical eyes on her, but they’d always been looking at the clothing, the product, or assessing her movement or features.

  They’d never been looking at her. As a person.

  She cleared her throat and lifted the mic.

  “Welcome to Marietta Style,” she said, “a fashion show dedicated to real people who wear real clothes.”

  The applause was polite, but sincere, and she took courage from the smiling faces.

  “Most of the outfits you’ll see tonight have been provided by Sandra Reynolds of Copper Mountain Chic, who truly brings style to Marietta. The mouthwatering treats in front of you are compliments of Sage Carrigan of Copper Mountain Chocolates, and we have Emerson Moore and Clifford Yerks of Two Old Goats Wine store to thank for the delicious beverages. And, of course, that we’re here at all tonight is thanks to Cynthia Henley, of CH Solutions, who orchestrated the entire event for Building Tomorrow. Marietta is lucky to have so much talent among us.”

  She turned to acknowledge the donors, who half-stood and waved to polite applause, then returned to her seat. Cynthia waved from her wheelchair.

  “Human beings are social creatures,” DeeDee continued, making
sure to include the bullet points Chad had given her. “We all have a need to contribute to our world in some way. But for people with developmental disabilities, this can be difficult. We often don’t know how to interact with those who are different from us, and it’s all too easy to distance ourselves from those who make us uncomfortable. But studies have shown that society as a whole benefits when we embrace our differences.”

  A round of polite applause greeted this remark.

  “We have many differently abled people in our community, including my friend Mark Litton who you’ll meet shortly. Mark has Down syndrome and lives with his brother, Isaac.”

  She sent a quick smile in Isaac’s direction, but he did not return it, his gaze intense, wary. He was nervous for Mark, of course.

  Keep smiling, just keep smiling.

  “Mark and Isaac came to Marietta because they recognized a good, kind place where people are valued regardless of differences. Recently, Mark has been spending time at Anders Run, where he’s enjoyed learning some new skills and helping with Chad’s woodworking projects, thanks to the guidance of Logan Stafford. Logan, with the support of Eric and Chad Anders of Building Tomorrow, hopes to make this kind of partnership available to other people with disabilities, providing personalized occupational plans to enrich their lives and help them reach their full potential.”

  The crowd was listening intently, and the faces she could see were open and encouraging.

  She risked another glance at Isaac, but this time, his chilly mask slipped, revealing so much emotion that it stole her breath away. Hope shone from his eyes, along with fear and sadness and gratitude. Suddenly, DeeDee realized how much trust he’d placed in her by allowing her into their lives. She knew he wanted Mark to be challenged, to grow, to succeed on his own merits. Yet, he also wanted to protect him from pain.

  Isaac’s love was fierce and unshakeable. Dangerous.

  Mark was so lucky to have him.