“He invited my aunts to dinner,” she clarified hotly. “You and I were an afterthought. In fact, we’ve been an afterthought ever since. Like it or not, Beverly in particular was the bait he intended to reel in.”
Michael shook his head forcefully. “No. Gerald’s liked me for ages. Me.”
“No. Gerald didn’t know you from Adam when we first arrived. I noticed it right off at the cocktail party in the Larkins’ suite. I was speaking to him and quickly got the impression that most DD owners and managers were a blur. Part of Jonathan Smithers’s job is to refresh Gerald’s memory on just who the players are in the DD family. Smithers is of great value to him, despite his steely methods. He knows his stuff. He’s the one who knew of you.”
“Damn.” Michael rubbed his face. “So all the favors, all the attention was due to those two meddlers.”
“You have proven yourself since, Michael. By now Gerald knows exactly who you are—”
“Fat lot of good it does me.” He gazed upon her in disappointment. “I hate that you kept all this from me for so long, Krista.”
“There are other things I would like to tell you—”
“No. Please don’t. I can’t bear to hear another word about you or your wacky relatives. Plainly, any plans we had aren’t going to work out. From my perch, your whole life looks like an endless maze of deception. I can’t handle any more of it.”
“But it isn’t as it seems!”
“Nothing is as it seems with you Mattsons. And I can’t afford to care about that. I keep life uncomplicated, on an even emotional keel. Another single day with you might be enough to crack me into a million pieces.” He marched to the door, only to turn back briefly.
“I suppose you’ve figured out the saddest part of all, haven’t you? Gerald never took personal note of my engagement when it appeared in the company newsletter. He had no intention of following up on it after his brief announcement at the opening reception. As for my friends, they would have been far too caught up in the game to take notice if I’d made a lame excuse for coming alone.
“So much for the big family plan. I never needed a partner in the first place.”
On that sorry note, he left.
KRISTA HEADED for her aunts’ suite. Rachel answered after a series of hard knocks. She was dressed in a skimpy pink terry-cloth robe.
“What took you so long?”
Her huge eyes bounced and rolled as she pointed to her bare feet. “I was just relaxing. Having a snack, painting my toenails. There’s a big shindig tonight, you know. We’re sitting with Gerald at the top table.”
Krista breezed inside. The room had Rachel’s self-indulgent stamp on it, all right. The soap opera channel blaring on the television, a bottle each of red nail polish and polish remover on the coffee table…along with something else—a pineapple upside-down doughnut, also known as a Kris Pineapple Kringle.
Rachel had returned to the sofa and was about to take a bite out of the doughnut.
“Stop!” Krista cried. “Hold it right there.”
Rachel’s small pouty mouth sagged. “What’s the matter with you?”
“Don’t talk, don’t even breathe. Just lower the doughnut to the plate. Easy now, don’t damage it.”
“But I’m hungry. And it’s all your fault, making me wait here while my sister is out on a date.”
Krista didn’t look particularly sympathetic. “Have you any more of those doughnuts?”
“A few.”
“Thank heavens for that!” With a joyous sigh she collapsed on the sofa beside her aunt.
“SO HERE YOU ARE!”
“We’ve been frantic to find you.”
Michael shifted on his bar stool to find the Mattson sisters standing by. “Nobody’s better at finding me than the two of you. So, what do you want now? A pint of blood?” He laid out his arm on the bar. “Go ahead, open a vein.”
The ill-mannered greeting didn’t stop Rachel and Beverly from sliding onto the empty stools at his right. Or from ordering their usual beverages.
“We want you to know everything is fixed,” Rachel chirped with a toss of her blond head.
“It sure is.” Shaking his head he sipped his whiskey.
“Listen up,” Beverly ordered brusquely. “We had a long talk with Krista and we understand the ramifications of the whole mess.”
His profile remained set in granite. “Go away.” As the waiter brought their drinks, he gestured to the martini. “That should have two olives.”
“See how sharp you are?” Rachel gushed. “No need to feel like a loser.”
He turned with a thin smile. “Why, thank you.”
“Let’s get down to it,” Beverly went on. “You should know that you aren’t out of the contest.”
“Of course I am.” He tapped his watch. “It is five in the afternoon. The panel of judges chose the three finalists two hours ago. The finalists were sent on to Gerald, and he has probably already made a decision on the winner and the two runners-up.”
“The conclusions you jump to.”
“So negative, too.”
“Ladies, I’ve never considered myself homicidal, but for your own safety, I suggest—”
“Oh, we understand about powerful emotion,” Rachel assured. “I was once homicidal over a Patrick von Clark. I felt like killing him when he dumped me for a tramp at a peace march, just because she was carrying a bigger sign.”
“It wasn’t her sign that was bigger,” Beverly crowed.
Michael blinked. “Peace sign? When was this?”
“Back in 1970.”
“I was homicidal then, too,” Beverly confided. “I felt like killing Rachel for being such a weenie over a married man.”
“Divorced.”
“Separated. And not legally.”
Michael hailed the bartender. “My check please, add up all our drinks, extra olive and all.”
Beverly laid a hand on his arm. “You aren’t going anywhere yet.”
“Dear me, no,” Rachel trilled, “not after all the trouble you’ve put us to.”
Angry with himself for being curious, Michael gave them a hard look. “I’ll give you five minutes.”
It proved to be a very interesting five minutes. According to the aunts, Krista had thought to submit his doughnuts from the first practice run to the contest. Gerald made an exception to the rules because he felt there was fault on the side of the company, he in inviting the aunts into the official kitchen area, Jonathan Smithers in his rash handling of the accusation.
Michael sighed. “Despite this last-minute save, I have no illusions about my chances. The doughnuts are two days old, a tough comparison to pastry fresh out of the oven. Even if by some miracle I do win, contestants will be protesting from here to eternity.”
“The doughnuts were kept reasonably fresh in that box,” Rachel countered. “I ate three this morning and found them delicious.”
“As for the matter of favoritism,” Beverly said, “any doughnut that makes it past the panel of judges to the finals is certainly worthy of top prize. You know how dynamic Gerald is. If he declares your Kris Pineapple Kringle a winner, it shall be a hit!”
Michael did have to give them points for tenacity. “It’s a nice sentiment, but I’m fairly sure it’s all over. As humiliating as it is for me to accept, without you two, I wouldn’t even have gotten near Gerald.”
Rachel shrugged. “Well, if Beverly here hadn’t looked like his late wife, he probably wouldn’t have seen us for spit, either.”
Michael was startled. “I didn’t know that. Anyway, I appreciate your efforts and want to officially thank you. As for Krista, I especially admire her ingenuity. I was too upset to think of any kind of solution and, as usual, she stepped up to bat for me.”
Beverly smiled. “That’s the nice thing about partnerships, Michael. When one person stumbles, the other is there with a safety net.”
Rachel jerked a thumb at her sister. “Listen to her, a few days into a romance and she’s the expert.
”
“I meant our partnership, Rachel,” Beverly snapped. “Look how well our collaboration has worked out.”
“Oh. Yes.”
Michael paid the tab and eased away from the bar. “When you see Krista, tell her—”
“Tell her yourself,” Rachel scoffed. “We don’t wish to get involved in your affairs.”
“Don’t wish to get involved!” He stood frozen, glaring at the pair of chins held high in the air. “I’ve come to watch my step in the shower every morning, expecting to find one of you handing me the soap!”
The very idea brought a round of chortles.
“What we mean to say,” Beverly clarified, “is that we no longer feel we have the right to be involved. Our responsibilities have been met, our debt paid.”
“Not that we like the way you’ve shown your gratitude to Krista, who knocked herself out to help you—”
“We don’t like it a bit, especially as you two are the perfect match.”
“Debts? Responsibilities? A perfect match?” He sat back up on his bar stool. “Start making sense. If you can.”
Michael sat. Accepted the drink they bought him. Listened.
“You two are the character Simona. For real?”
“For real. Krista was duping you to keep us out of trouble. In real life she is the queen of Bigtime Promotions, Ms. Big to her employees. Messing around with you is about as wild as she has ever gotten.”
It was shocking. It was comforting. It was the best news ever. “So that means that all the while I was trying to transform Krista into a lady, she was trying to behave like a—”
“Careful what you say about Simona,” Rachel snapped.
He rubbed his forehead. “You know what amazes me most about your family, is the extraordinary lengths you go to, to help one another. Because quite frankly, a lot of the time you don’t even seem to like each other!”
“That’s what a healthy family is all about,” Beverly assured him, dabbing the corners of his mouth with a cocktail napkin. “Just wiping off some peanut crumbs.”
“Guess I forgot to eat a decent meal today.”
“Well, go collect Krista and have yourself a nice dinner. Talk things over.”
“Yes, I will do that.”
Michael dashed to the nearest elevator, jammed inside with a bunch straight out of the swimming pool, and took the longest ride of his life.
“Krista!” he shouted as he burst into their suite. There was no reply, however. On the table there was a note.
As I now seem to only be in your way, I have opted to take care of my own business. If you’re ever in Minnesota and feel like talking, let me know.
K.
She was really gone. Michael had never felt so alone.
“SOMEONE TO SEE YOU, Ms. Mattson.”
“Thank you, Courtney.”
Michael watched the gum-chewing girl retreat on a swish of hip. “I think I recognize your inspiration.”
“Hello, Michael.” She sat behind her desk, dressed in a smart tweed suit and white chiffon blouse.
He, too, was dressed for success in dark wool. He slid a rectangular box onto her desk. “I’m here to see Krista Mattson’s alter ego.”
“You know very well Simona isn’t really—”
He pressed a finger to his lips. “We both know all about the elusive Simona. But I’m sworn to secrecy about her identity, so we can’t even discuss it. No, I’m talking about the formidable Ms. Big, owner of Bigtime Promotions.”
“Oh, I see.” She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest. “The aunts might demand confidentiality in their affairs but they certainly don’t offer it to others.”
“They do have your best interests at heart. Most of the time. Not bad old gals, really. A refreshing change for a man with no family.”
Her mouth softened. “Sorry had to miss the big dinner. But my regular sky writer was ill and I had to find a replacement, fast.”
“A sky writer emergency is a decent excuse,” Michael said with a grin. “Anyway, it was pretty much over by then. No one paid any attention to me for the rest of the evening. I crashed in my room about eleven. Slept fifteen hours. By the time I woke up, most of the conventioneers were gone.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t win the contest, Michael.”
“I am, too.”
“Thought for sure when I presented Gerald some of your first practice-run batch, you’d have a decent chance to make the finals.”
“In a way, I’m glad I didn’t make it. The way things shook out, I don’t think anyone ever would have believed I hadn’t cheated somehow—not with Gerald having the final say. We’d grown so close to him, he knew all about my entry. What means the most to me is that you tried to help, even after our quarrel.”
“I did want you to win, even if I was furious with you.”
“You don’t look mad anymore.”
“Well…” She trailed off with a smile.
“Exactly how long were you mad?”
“I’ve been back one week and four days, been better for about a week.”
“You could’ve called.”
“Oh, Michael. I really didn’t think so. Not after the way I tricked you so completely. Besides, you could’ve called me, too. You had all the facts by then, knew I was behaving like a nut for my family.”
“Your family still scares me a bit. I had to take some time to sort things through. And I’ve been very busy at work.”
“So you know the winner of the contest?”
“Not personally. Some New Yorker with a caramel doughnut. Not bad tasting, if you like caramel.”
“I like caramel.”
He smiled ruefully. “You and Gerald.”
“I hear the Larkins were runners-up.”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t look too happy about it.”
He played with her bronze paperweight. “It was difficult, as Norah was the one who messed with the napkin sketch and the fax. She ultimately confessed.”
“I see. So she does poke around in the briefcases she gives as gifts.”
“Yes. You called that one well in advance.”
“Must have been hard to accept that it was Norah, after all she’s meant to you.”
He nodded. “She’s assured me that she was wearing her ‘business hat’ versus her ‘surrogate mother hat’ during the convention, all in keeping the contest fair and honest.”
“That’s a crock.”
“Sadly, she’s committed to her beliefs. May never come to understand why I’ve lost faith in her.”
“Have you come to realize she might not be the model wife, after all?”
He smiled ruefully. “Yes, Krista. Her focus on Allan seemed flattering from a distance, but it certainly is that same narrow-mindedness that drove her to rivalry madness.”
“What prompted her confession?”
“In a way, it was due to your aunts.” He smiled at her surprise. “Discovering in the final hours that Beverly strongly resembles the late Gloria Stewart was the key. Remember when our party of five met the Larkins and Norquists in the lobby? As you know, only Norah and Beth got close enough to pass Gerald the napkin. By far, Norah had the most reason to freak out. Only she would have known of the resemblance, having met Gloria. Neither I nor the Norquists ever had that pleasure.”
“At the time, it did seem strong retaliation for one evening out with the boss,” she agreed. “I suppose Norah was on the edge, though, and seeing Beverly was enough to tip her over. Guess you would’ve figured it all out sooner if I’d told you of the resemblance.”
“You knew?”
“Not long. Gerald told me at his house the night before, while he was seeking my blessing. But I was already holding so many secrets, and you were so disgusted with the aunts, that I didn’t consider telling you anything.”
“Wouldn’t have mattered in the long run. The damage was done.”
“I’m afraid I must agree.”
“So
, how did the Norquists take the loss?”
“Not as bad as you might think. Allan, in his remorse over creating a self-serving monster of a wife, has given me their fifty grand in prize money. I, in turn, handed it over to my godchild Katy Norquist. Her parents fussed a bit, but Katy promptly stuffed the check in her toy purse and gave me a slurpy kiss. An even trade in anyone’s mind, so they had to accept it.”
“Seems you still have devoted friends in the Norquists.”
“A man can’t have too many good friends,” he said tenderly. “Or slurpy kisses from girls of any size.” Fighting for control, he cleared his throat and began on a more professional note. “Now, about this business with Ms. Big.”
A flash of disappointment crossed her eyes but she was careful to remain a good sport. “All right. I’m ready.” She sat up straighter.
“On behalf of the Decadent Delights Corporation, I am empowered to offer you a job as an assistant director of the new tristate territory. Minnesota, Wisconsin and Iowa are about to be introduced to the best doughnut known to mankind.”
“So that was Gerald’s expansion plan for the midwest?” she enthused. “Pretty big plans.”
“I’d say so.”
“Being that you are Gerald’s representative, is it possible that you’ve been given a top slot in this venture?”
“I am trying not to be a self-centered jerk by blowing my own horn, but yes, I have been given top slot.”
“Congratulations!” Clasping her hands together she popped up from her chair and threw his arms around him. He nearly fell off the edge of the desk as he caught her.
“So how did Gerald come to choose us for his tristate echelon?”
“We both made an impact on him at the convention,” he said matter-of-factly. “Apparently once he saw me ‘for more than spit,’ to quote Rachel, he realized my value. As for you, I imagine you’re in through nepotism, being the niece of his lady friend.”
“Very funny.”
He chuckled. “Seriously, you know you made an impressive showing the whole time. And he never did see you as anything but a promotions specialist, as you honestly claimed to be. You’re certainly in on your own merit. I stayed on at his place a few days after the convention per his request, and he couldn’t stop talking about you.”
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