“But surely you want someone interested in your affairs,” Beverly countered.
“Someone qualified,” Rachel added.
“She’s a bit wild for me,” he admitted. “It takes some getting used to.” He turned to Randy. “Do you know she had the nerve to take a poke at the Larkins for moving into Gerald’s territory?”
To Michael’s surprise, Randy chuckled. “Bravo. About time someone publicly pointed out the obvious.”
“So she did a good thing?” asked Beverly.
“She did a very good thing.” Randy pushed a bowl of nuts at the women. “Michael and I have always been a bit too fond of the Larkins because they gave us our start in the business. But it doesn’t hurt to watch one’s business rivals closely, no matter what the bond.”
Rachel took the reading glasses dangling from a chain and slipped them onto her nose. Squinting, she read the fine print on his name tag. “Sister, this is our Michael! Our Michael Collins!”
Beverly pounded the bar with a formidable fist. “Why, I never.”
“We’ve been looking for you all day long, dear. Reading tag after tag on red polo shirts until we’re dizzy.” She lolled her head in exhaustion.
“You enjoyed the hunt, Rachel,” Beverly sniped. “Got three propositions in the bargain.”
“Four if you count the man with his wife,” Rachel tittered.
“Who are you ladies?” Michael finally demanded.
“We are Krista’s aunts,” Rachel gushed. “Rachel and Beverly Mattson. Surely she’s mentioned us? Her father is our brother, we’re her only relatives in Minnesota?”
“We’re here on a package deal. Four full days of fun in the sun.”
A smile froze on Michael’s face.
“You mean to say Krista hasn’t introduced you yet?” Randy asked.
That would seem weird in a genuine engagement, Michael realized. “Beverly, you did phone her once when we were together,” he said, desperately referring to one of the calls during their clash at the newspaper.
“Yes, I do remember,” Beverly said, looking a bit startled.
“You called about a recipe.”
“Ah, I expect I did.”
“It’s good to know Krista is such a good cook. That people call her about recipes.”
The aunts gaped.
Beverly was the first to recover, going on to make what appeared to be a painful confession to Randy. “It isn’t unusual that Krista might hold back on introductions. She is sometimes self-conscious about our interference. We are hopeless snoops, you see. But we have so much love to give.”
They were mighty good snoops, Michael decided. Look at the way they’d tracked him down, the info they’d just gleaned from him. Exactly how much did they know of the fake engagement? Did they understand the charade? The fact that no one must know Krista was columnist Simona?
Suddenly it seemed imperative to get rid of his friend to give some and pin down their exact intentions. “Randy, would you mind if I spent some time with Krista’s relatives?”
Randy took the request with grace, popping a last pretzel into his mouth. “Nice to meet you, ladies.”
“Don’t bother with that,” Michael said as Randy reached for his wallet. “I’ll pick up the tab.”
Randy nodded and was gone. With a blink Beverly had moved around Michael to take Randy’s vacated stool. Suddenly he was neatly pinned between the sisters.
“I think we need another round,” Rachel decided.
Michael hailed the waiter. “So what exactly brings the two of you here on our heels? Seems a lot of trouble, even for the average snoop.”
The women exchanged a mischievous look.
“Your charade is just too exciting.”
“And, well, we thought maybe we could be of assistance. You know, offering extra cover.”
He was aghast. “You know the whole story?”
Rachel clasped her rouged cheeks. “Truly exciting. Truly.”
“So is Krista doing a good job?” Beverly asked bluntly.
“I have no complaints.”
“Super. Then, you won’t be suing over Simona’s advice, after all?”
“Not if things proceed as planned,” he answered slowly.
“As angry as you may be with Simona’s advice, you must admit she has gone out of her way to rectify the situation. Her presence here is a real sign of caring, a determination to set things right. As a fairy godmother might.”
“I’m not the vindictive kind. All I want is help out of this mess.”
Their drinks arrived. Beverly dabbed a cocktail napkin to her mouth. “So are you serious about your feelings for Krista? Or is it part of the act?”
Michael had reached his limit. “This is getting way too personal.”
“But you’ve been discussing your romantic feelings in a public lounge.”
“I was confiding in my good friend. You chose to join in.”
“And you kept right on talking.”
“Because I mistook you for strangers! Everybody confides in snoopy strangers once in a while.” His voice grew hushed and desperate. “You aren’t supposed to end up participating.”
“You can’t expect less of good fairy godmothers.”
Michael frowned. “I thought you said Simona was the fairy godmother, Rachel.”
Beverly’s eyes flashed daggers at her sister.
“We’re all here to help like fairies,” Rachel said sweetly.
“I’d rather not discuss my feelings for Krista yet,” he stated evenly. “We are still sorting things out. The charade is our immediate concern.”
Rachel’s eyes grew huge. “Oh, we won’t spoil things.”
“Can I have that in writing?”
“So, where is Krista? We’ve been calling your suite all day.”
“She is lunching with some of the other wives here at the convention. Many of them are very friendly.”
“Oh, how nice,” Rachel gushed. “Krista doesn’t have near enough friends.”
“I imagined Simona with an address book full of friends.”
Beverly pointed to the olives in her sister’s glass and advised her to eat one. “The persona of Simona is quite dazzling. And justifiably so. Her column has a huge following. But it is hard to make true friends when one is a special celebrity. All in all, Krista spends way too much time and energy on her career.”
“Speaking of careers. I don’t want anyone to know Krista is behind the “Simona Says” column. There’s little chance that anyone would connect me to the Doughman query, but steering clear of the entire column seemed best. Besides, no one would ever believe I’d marry the source of that dippy advice.” He noted the ladies’ faces pruned at his criticism and couldn’t help thinking maybe they were a bit too close to Krista and her career. “In any case, Krista’s been kind enough to choose a more suitable career for appearances. She’s claiming to be a consultant for Bigtime Promotions. Please, if put on the spot, don’t forget that detail.”
The aunts exchanged an inscrutable look. “No problem.”
“Good. You know, when all of this is over, you might want to steer her to a more stable lifestyle, like that of Judy Phillips.”
“You’ve met Judy?”
“Yes. Now, there’s a woman with her act together.”
“If it turns out you and Krista, well—” Rachel tipped her blond head back and forth coyly “—end up infatuated, I wouldn’t worry about her being too wild for you. It’s my guess she could learn to appreciate the tamer comforts of a settled relationship.”
Perhaps they were right. He wanted to believe they were.
Beverly rubbed her hands together gleefully. “I am so glad we’ve had the chance to talk things through. All that’s left really, is the subject of your super-secret doughnut.”
“My what!”
“Your doughnut, dear. Tell us the flavor, whether it’s baked or fried.”
He regarded them in tight-lipped silence.
“It’s all
right,” Beverly assured gravely. “We consider ourselves an integral part of the Collins team now.”
Suddenly he was an entire team! The Mattson women were infiltrating on all levels. How much he could handle was something to be seen. Looking around he said, “Be that as it may, about the team, I am not comfortable discussing my doughnut.”
Rachel tweaked his cheek. “You’re feeling shy.”
“It isn’t that. Contestants aren’t discussing their entries. Period.”
“Perhaps tomorrow, then.”
They blissfully ignored his continuing protests as they slid off their stools and smoothed their bright nylon suits. “Be sure to tell Krista we are looking for her.”
“That I will do, ladies. I promise you.”
Chapter Ten
Michael was half dozing on the sofa, watching a movie, when Krista returned to the hotel suite around six. He cracked open an eye to survey her. “How did things go?”
“Wonderful! Mostly. But you did let me down. Boy, oh boy.” She paced in front of the television, arms folded across her chest.
Michael raised up to a lounging position in heightened alert. “Explain.”
“Everybody was bonding, sharing, and there I was—on the outs.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t know the flavor of your doughnut, that’s why!”
He was aghast. “Contest entries are always a private matter.”
“You wish.”
“They discussed the actual flavors?”
“Yes!”
“They asked you specifically about my flavor?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” Her arms flew dramatically. “Went right around the table naming off their entries. Finally they landed on little ol’ me, then sat, waiting. And I had no answer to give. Can you imagine the shame? Here I am, your fiancée, with no clue to your contest entry.”
He shook his head with a sardonic smile. “Apparently, none of the women should’ve been trusted with the information.”
She raised a stifling palm. “Don’t even try to apologize for your thoughtlessness—for sending me blind into that trap.”
He was astonished by her stance. “No way would I have thought to prep you. Never in my wildest imagination did I expect entries to be discussed openly.”
“The worst part was, they didn’t believe I didn’t know—at least, not at first. Oh, eventually I managed to save myself with some fast talking, but it did seem mighty fishy on the face of it, that, after listening to their secrets, I was refusing to share. So what is your flavor?” Rounding the coffee table she shoved his legs off the last sofa cushion to make room for herself, causing him to yelp in protest.
“You expect me to tell you now?”
“I most certainly do. My curiosity is bursting at the seams.” She paused, then added in a small voice, “Weren’t you ever planning to tell me?”
“Wasn’t sure you cared.”
“Didn’t know how much I cared. Until today.” She shook a finger at him. “It’s all your own fault I’m getting in so deep, am hopelessly intrigued.”
He couldn’t conceal his pleasure over her enthusiasm. “I suppose everyone will expect my fiancée to lend a hand in the kitchen during the test runs on the recipe—”
“As they should. We are partners!”
“I do want to be partners.”
“Then, prove it. Take me into your confidence—into your kitchen!”
His gray eyes sparkled with new curiosity. “Let’s begin with you telling me the names of their entries. If you remember any of them.”
Looking rather proud, she began reciting the list, ticking the information off on her fingers.
“What about the Larkins?” Michael asked before she could finish.
“The Larkins are the most ambitious, calling their entry Norry’s Cherry Chip Glory. Get it? Her name linked with Gerald’s late wife’s name? Clever, with Gerald Stewart the deciding judge.”
“Yes. A panel of chefs from the outside will score the doughnuts, whittle the finalists to three. Then Gerald will choose a winner and two runners-up.”
“So what is our entry called, Michael?”
Our entry. He smiled involuntarily at her new matter-of-fact claim. His heart skipped under her zesty gaze. No real fiancée could show more genuine interest in his aspirations. This was all he wanted, the chance to conspire with a special someone. “It’s called Pineapple Upside-Down Doughnut.”
“Hey, I like it.”
“I’ve been determined to keep it a secret for months, you see, because the name gives away so much, suggests that it is like a pineapple upside-down cake. While most entries will be fried, mine will be baked. I’m constructing each doughnut like a mini-cake, with crushed pineapple and chopped maraschino cherries atop a layer of cake. It’s a very unique idea that I didn’t want to share.”
“Do you really think one of the group would have tried to copy your idea, given the chance?”
“Unfortunately, I am a likely target. Besides my years in the doughnut business, I have a culinary background. And I am known for making creative desserts. It might have been tempting for someone to try a knockoff.”
“Surely it is all right at this point for other contestants to know of your recipe.”
“I suppose it can’t do any harm now, but I still don’t like it, the way things are being discussed among the wives. Prying always leads to trouble.”
“What shall I say the next time I’m asked?”
“They will wonder why I never told you, I guess.” He was thoughtful for quite some time. “Seems the only way to explain my secrecy, to keep you in good standing with the wives, is to claim I was keeping the doughnut a surprise because it is named after you. The Larkins are pulling a name stunt, with the Norry Glory business. If asked,” he finally said, “you will say it’s called Kris Pineapple Kringle.”
“If you win, I will be sort of famous.” She smiled, as if savoring the idea.
“Still can’t believe the wives dared cross that line…”
“Maybe such talks are common,” she theorized. “If you’ve never had a lady on the inside, you wouldn’t know for sure.”
“I never have. So it is possible. Remember who started the whole confession jag?”
“Norah. She brought out doughnuts made with Gerald’s first recipe. Someone asked if it was her entry, and the subject was ripped wide open.”
Michael basked in the fond memory. “The Orange Blossom Special. They were delicious. Norah probably was more intent on bragging that she had the prized recipe than she was on sizing up the competition.”
“Maybe.”
“You promised to give Norah a break.”
“I have kept that promise. But she did initiate talk of the contest. And she was handling your briefcase this morning here in the suite.”
“She have a reason?”
“An excuse of sorts. Said she was admiring the way you and Randy have taken good care of her gift.”
“Maybe she was doing just that.”
“Possibly. She’s a pain with her tunnel vision on marriage and the shop. But she appears to care for you very much. Wanted to make sure I know it, too.”
He grew worried. “Exactly what did she do to instill this new faith?”
“She took me aside before lunch to show me some old photos of you, talk about your start in the business.”
“I see.”
“She told me about your family life, too. I’m sorry your mother had…troubles.”
“Yes.” His mouth tightened further. But she didn’t seem to notice.
“I can see how Norah would emerge as a mother figure. I can also imagine that the reason you want to mold a wife, pull her in close, is so you can feel secure, in control, unlikely to be abandoned again.”
“Dammit, Krista! Haven’t you gotten me into enough trouble with your pop analysis?”
“Sorry. I’m just relating everything as it happened.” She paused, plainly collecting herself. “I d
on’t mean to intrude on any touchy territory.”
“Of course you don’t.” He relented. “I shouldn’t be snapping at you.” He clasped his hands between his knees. “It’s just that Norah has told you things I rarely talk about. I can date a woman for months without ever revealing so much.”
“You can trust me with your secrets, Michael. I promise.”
He lifted his eyes to her tender face and instinctively felt a warm reassurance. “Okay. Now, let’s get back to the luncheon,” he said brusquely. “The doughnut flavors were discussed. Then what happened?”
“That is when I really began to shine for you,” she reported. “I felt obligated to somehow clear away the tension over the flavor snafu. Someone had mentioned the last convention’s logo contest. So I fed off of that, encouraged all of them to sketch their entries on napkins for me. Must say, they appreciated my critiques.”
“Your critiques?”
“They see me as a promotions specialist, remember? And I do help Judy out enough to know things. Anyway, they were so impressed with my tips, they urged me to sketch my own logo. So I did. I may be prejudiced but I like it better than the company’s present choice.”
He thrust out a demanding hand. “I’d like to see your logo.”
She grew helpless. “I’d like to show it to you. Unfortunately it disappeared off the table before I could slip it into my purse.”
He grew wary. “Everybody’s napkin disappear?”
“Who knows? The server was clearing plates at the time, so I figure she took it away.”
“Did you actually say you thought your logo was superior to the winning logo that graces every store in the nation?”
She beamed. “Everybody said so.”
“Exactly how did you improve upon our company’s image?”
“I merely removed a certain eyesore.”
“Gerald Stewart’s likeness?”
“No, I simply lifted his toupee. Not that I have seen him in his domed glory, but I have a general idea of what he must look like. Must say, my rendition brought the house down.”
“Just out of curiosity, did you pause for even a second before your hand flew over the napkin to think about possible consequences?”
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