Sugar and Spice (The Glitter and Sparkle Series Book 3)

by Shari L. Tapscott

  A cool breeze blows through the center, and I shiver again. Acknowledging I’m not in clothing suitable for the weather, Mason frowns and steps back, looking as if he’s about to hail another cab. “You’re freezing.”

  He’s just holding up his hand when I make a rash decision. With my heart racing, I yank him back. Then I kiss him.

  I’ve taken him completely off guard, and I end the kiss before he snaps out of his stupor.

  “All right,” I say, determination heavy in my voice. “We’ll give it a shot.”

  I step past him, ready to hail the cab myself, when he yanks me back. “Not so fast.”

  Mason’s lips meet mine in a kiss that’s searing. My stomach clenches, and I fall against him, feeling as if I’m melting. His hands find my waist, and he holds me steady as I wrap my arms around his neck. He smells faintly of cologne—a new scent for him, and I breathe the fragrance in.

  He’s mine. Mason Knight is mine. At least for now—and that’s good enough.

  Mason’s kiss softens, becomes infinitely sweeter. His fingers spread over my waist, his skin hot through the fabric. I’ve almost forgotten about the cold night air that surrounds us—my brain has far more important things to focus on. I don’t even care that we’re in public.

  My hand is just drifting to his chest when there’s a bright flash. Delirious with emotion and sensation, I pull back, startled. There’s another flash, and then another.

  Mason utters a curse under his breath and tugs me behind him, almost as if he’s protecting me.

  “It really is Mason Knight!” a girl close to Riley’s age squeals. Her friends press forward, asking questions all at once.

  More people move in, like piranhas sensing blood—piranhas wielding phone cameras.

  This is so very bad.

  “Harper, do you have your phone?” Mason asks quietly as the girls press forward. He’s smiling, looking composed though I know better, greeting his fans and signing random things they’re thrusting his way. “Call Yvonne. Tell her to send a car.”

  It’s insane how quickly the crowd is growing.

  I pull my phone out of my clutch and gasp. I have twenty-nine missed calls, and several of them are from Yvonne.

  Mason’s assistant answers on the first ring. “Where are you?” she demands, and after I tell her our location, she says, “Stay where you are. We’re coming for you.”

  “Are you dating Mason?” one girl asks, focusing right on me. She has a predatory look about her, and I find myself shifting back.

  Another steps forward. “Did you meet at the auditions, or did you already know him?”

  More push forward, and suddenly I’m being asked a dozen questions. I don’t know how to answer a single one. Mason tries to block me, but it’s no use. There are too many of them.

  Thankfully, Yvonne shows up in record time, and she’s brought Mason’s security with her. They surround us, pushing the crowd back as they pave the way to the waiting limo.

  I climb inside, too horrified to find any pleasure in the butter-soft leather upholstery or fancy lights. All those pictures are sure to flood the Internet in no time.

  Clark yells at Mason over the phone. Mason answers with several Yes, sirs and I know, sirs. He looks as if he’s aged several years in just a few minutes.

  I take in a gulp of air, but it sounds suspiciously like a sob. Without a word, Mason reaches over and squeezes my hand.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Riley runs from the truck and wraps me in a tight hug. It’s one in the morning, and she and Linus drove all the way to Denver to pick me up at the little airport we flew into. Fortunately, we gained two hours on the way back to Colorado.

  My sister holds me so tightly, it should hurt. But I don’t feel much, at least not yet. “I know you can’t see it now, but the whole thing is crazy romantic.”

  I pull back and scowl. “I’ve ruined my chances in the competition—Worse, I’ve ruined Sadie’s chances in the competition. Mason spent an hour and a half on the phone with Tammy, and even though I only heard his side, I know she’s livid.”

  I hate it when people are angry with me. And even though I know I didn’t really do anything wrong, with HBN seething and Clark looking at me like I’m far more trouble than I’m worth, it feels like it.

  Riley holds my shoulders, making me look at her. “I know it seems bad—and it is,” she adds quickly when I’m about to argue. “But it will work out.”

  She’s right, I suppose. But it all seems too big right now, too impossible.

  Determined to do damage control, Clark forbid we arrive at the lodge together. Mason’s with his people, and I’m with mine.

  We were doomed from the start.

  “It’s cold,” Linus says gently. “Let’s get to the truck.”

  I’m still in the dress. It was a whirlwind of chaos after Yvonne picked us up, and we were whisked on the jet so quickly, I didn’t even get a chance to ask about the roses that were back in my room.

  Honestly, I’m surprised Clark let me on the jet. I’m sure he would have preferred to leave me stranded in New York. He argued with Mason in hushed whispers the entire return flight.

  The Christmas special’s camera crew spotted me in the crowd, so we were ruined before we stepped foot in Rockefeller Center. Clark wasn’t informed until after we’d left the building, and Riley couldn’t get a hold of me because I’d silenced my phone.

  When the jet landed, Mason and I barely got two seconds together before they separated us, and Mason looked ticked. He refused to leave until Riley texted to let us know that she and Linus had arrived.

  “It will be all right,” he promised before they escorted him away. “I’ll take care of it.”

  But how?

  I’m officially considered a conflict of interest for Mason, and there’s not a thing we can do about it. It doesn’t matter that Mason’s not a judge—he’s representing the show.

  The moment I’m in the truck, I yank my heels off. Then I stare out the window, numb.

  Thankfully, the sky is clear, so we’re not dealing with snowy roads on top of everything else. Riley and Linus attempt to keep up happy, light-hearted small talk, but I brood in the backseat.

  Just as we begin to climb into the mountains, my phone rings. I glance at it, wondering if it’s Mason.

  But it’s not Mason.

  I stare at the name on the screen. Finally, knowing I’m about to get the lecture of my life, I answer. “Brandon.”

  I mentally prepare myself, and my shoulders stiffen before he even begins to speak.

  “How are you holding up?” he asks.

  Startled, I hesitate, wondering if the question is a trick. “I’m peachy.”

  “No, you’re not. Where are you at?”

  My shoulders sag.

  “With Riley and Linus. We’re on I-70, just west of Denver.” I pause. “How’s Sadie?”

  When she figures out who I’m talking to, Riley shoots me a concerned look from the front seat.

  Brandon’s quiet for several seconds. “Well, you know Sadie.”

  But I really don’t.

  “What does that mean?” I ask.

  “She’s worried they’re going to kick you guys out of the competition, but she’s dealing with it. Chrissy and Christy have blown the whole thing out of proportion, so we’ve mostly been hanging out in her room to avoid the other teams. I’m back at the hotel now, but I plan to return to the lodge first thing in the morning.”

  I realize that the thought of them together doesn’t sting like it did a few days ago. There’s a chance, if I hadn’t botched this all up, that Sadie and I might have found a way to be friends.

  Sighing, I settle back in the seat. “Why did you call, Brandon?”

  “We were worried about you. I was worried about you. I know things didn’t work out between us the way we thought they would, but I still care about you. You’re one of my best friends.”

  “You’re not going to tell me I was stupid
to let this happen?”

  “Nah,” he says, and I can almost see him smiling. “There’s plenty of time for that later.”

  “Tell Sadie I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  “I will. Stay strong, Harper Marie. We’ll see you soon.”

  ***

  One by one, Tammy slaps tabloids and Internet print-offs on the table between us. Each one is more incriminating than the last.

  “What were the two of you thinking?” she demands. For the first time since I’ve met her, her hair isn’t perfect. In fact, it’s thrown up in a hasty knot, and her bangs are going every direction but down.

  I rub my face. “We didn’t think anyone would see us together.”

  “All you had to do was be discreet for two more days!” Tammy says in a voice that’s just on the edge of yelling. “Two more days!”

  Mason lounges in his seat, arms crossed over his chest. He looks at ease, but his jaw and eyes are hard. “If I remember correctly, you encouraged our relationship. Said it was good for ratings.”

  “Not like this! We wanted a few mild flirtations on camera. Not the two of you jetting off to New York and kissing passionately in the middle of Rockefeller Center!”

  She finishes the tirade with a sharp curse that makes me wince.

  “This is enough to make the show look unethical. People are beginning to wonder if the two of you were dating long before the auditions! The show will crash and burn if people think the whole thing is staged. Why watch if it’s nothing but a production?”

  “Did we move on?” I ask bluntly, interrupting her before she has an aneurysm. “This doesn’t even matter if Sadie and I came in last in the Russian tea cake competition.”

  And if we are in the last place, then I don’t have to feel guilty about ruining this for Sadie.

  A vein in Tammy’s neck bulges. “No, you were in the top spot.”

  That’s inconvenient.

  “What am I going to do?” the producer grasps her head, and I worry she’s going to pull out hair. “Anne’s practically crippled, you’re obviously out of the show, and I had to send Chrissy and Christy home this evening. Sarah and Quinn came in last in Tuesday’s episode, so that only leaves Cole and Jerome. The show’s over!”

  “Wait,” I lean forward. “Why did you send Chrissy and Christy home?”

  Tammy’s too overwhelmed to speak, so Paula leans forward. Quietly, as if she’s worried Tammy’s actually going to explode, she says, “We found out they’ve been cheating. Marcus—the man who knocked over your cookie wreath—came to us yesterday, admitting they paid him two thousand dollars to sabotage you in that episode.”

  I am so shocked, I almost forget to be angry.

  “And, once we watched the footage from Tuesday’s show, we saw Chrissy purposely plowed into Anne. There was no doubt about it.” Paula’s eyes go almost comically wide. “She was like a hockey player. Anne only didn’t know because Chrissy came up from behind.”

  “Give Sarah and Quinn another chance,” Mason says after listening quietly for several minutes. “Send Chrissy and Christy home, and let Sadie and Jessica partner together for the remainder of the competition since their partners are no longer able to compete.”

  He turns to me. “That’s what you want most, isn’t it? Sadie to have a chance to finish the competition?”

  I watch him for a moment, and then I nod.

  Tammy sits in her seat with a huff and taps her fingers on the table, thinking. “We’ve never had a change in partners before.”

  “I guarantee with all the fuss we’ve made, you’ll have more people tune into the show than ever before,” Mason says, urging her to consider his proposal. “Use it to your advantage.”

  She thinks about it for what seems like forever, and then she turns to me. “Fine, as long as you agree to do a final interview. You must make sure the viewers are aware the network had no part in this. I want tears. I want apologies. I want the entire story presented like you were broken hearted when you auditioned for the show, but it was love-at-first-sight for the both of you. You were helpless to fight it.”

  “The entire story?” I ask. “Including the meeting where you encouraged—”

  “Don’t be sassy. You’re extremely fortunate I’m even considering letting your partner continue.”

  The thought of doing that interview makes me ill. Surely Tammy can’t expect me to pour my entire heart out on national television just so Sadie can continue with the competition.

  But from the look on her face, I know she does.

  Fine.

  Feeling ill, I say, “I’ll do it.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Sadie finds me in the hall on the way to my final interview.

  “Harper,” she says, her eyes full of sympathy. “I’m so sorry about everything that’s happened.”

  I shrug. “It’s all right. At least you can stay.”

  “Thank you for working it out with Tammy,” she whispers.

  “It was Mason’s idea.”

  Part of me thinks I should hate this girl. After all, if she hadn’t butted her way into Brandon’s heart, he and I would be together. I would never have fallen for Mason, and I wouldn’t be suffering from the greatest humiliation of my life.

  But then there’s the fact that if Sadie hadn’t butted her way into Brandon’s heart, he and I would be together. I wouldn’t have fallen for Mason, and therefore, I wouldn’t have experienced the most beautiful twenty-four hours of my life.

  It’s all in how you look at it.

  And no matter what, I wouldn’t give up this time with Mason. Getting to know him has been a life-changing experience. One that I’m afraid has reached its end.

  I know he said we could work, but this mess right here shows that there are too many obstacles between us.

  Still, I don’t regret our time together. I’ll never regret our time together.

  Sadie gives me a hug, and I awkwardly pat her back, trying my very best not to nudge her away.

  I’ve grown to like her, but let’s not push it.

  “Ready?” Dave asks as soon as I walk into our usual interview room.

  I sit on a stool. “Yes.”

  He frowns at the list of prompts in his hand. “Do you want to read them first, take a moment to get your thoughts in order before we film?”

  Grateful, I accept the list…then I silently curse Tammy. She meant it when she said everything. She wants all the sad, pathetic details about Brandon; she wants every sweet moment with Mason.

  I know what she’s doing. She wants the viewer’s hearts to go out to me, wants me to make it all seem like a magical Cinderella story, just as Riley pegged it.

  With a sigh, I hand him back the paper. “All right.”

  “You don’t have to do this, you know,” Dave says in his adorable accent. “You’re going home anyway.”

  I shake my head. “No, it’s for Sadie. Let’s get it over with.”

  I answer every question, even the ones that make me want to be sick. I tell the world everything, and I don’t hold anything back. By the end, I’m wiping tears off my cheeks. Too bad I didn’t take a few pointers from Anne on how to cry prettily because I’m sure I’m a blotchy, red mess.

  “Mason is everything every girl has ever hoped he was. He’s a gentleman, he’s sweet, he’s handsome, and he’s amazingly talented.” I suck in a shuddering breath. “I was so fortunate to get to know him. I will never regret the time we spent together, and I wish him the best.”

  Startled, Dave looks around his camera. “You’re not together?”

  I shrug and laugh in a humorless way, probably looking half-insane. “It’s just too painful to string it along. Let’s face it, life isn’t a fairy tale. Normal girls like me don’t end up with famous men like him.”

  And I cannot handle this much time in the spotlight. It’s making my hermit approach to life seem quite appealing.

  “Does Mason know you’re finished?” Dave asks, forgetting about his assigned quest
ions.

  I look at the floor. “Not yet.”

  ***

  I find Mason waiting for me outside the room, and my heart breaks when I see him.

  He takes in my tear-stained face and immediately wraps his arms around me. Of course, that only makes the tears start anew.

  “It’s over now,” he murmurs, still holding me close.

  I look up and study his face, trying to commit the small things to memory, the things that don’t show in pictures—like the way he smells like regular, everyday drugstore shampoo.

  He has a few stray strands of silver at his temples that I’ve never noticed before. He’s going to be one of those men whose hair changes at a young age, but it won’t detract from his looks. If anything, it might enhance them.

  Mason narrows his eyes as I run my finger along the strands. For a minute, I try to imagine that he’s a regular guy—someone I might have a future with. Someone who would get a regular job and be home for dinner every night by six. We’d take yearly vacations and have two-point-five children.

  “You’re thinking awfully hard,” he says quietly.

  “I’m trying to figure out how to say goodbye.”

  He scrunches his forehead and narrows his eyes. “Harper, don’t.”

  “You know this won’t work. I’ve turned your career upside down with bad publicity. Your manager hates me.”

  His scowl turns into a wry smile. “Any publicity is good publicity, and I’ll fire Clark if you’d like.”

  I smile despite myself and press a kiss to his lips. “Take care of yourself, Mason.”

  When I try to step out of his arms, he holds me tight. “I object.”

  “You object?” I ask, incredulous.

  “We’ve been together less than twenty-four hours. You can’t break up with me yet.”

  I shake my head, wanting to laugh, wanting to cry. “Why can’t you make this easy?”

  “Because easy means you leave and I never see you again.”

  “Then let me go because you care for me. I can’t keep up this pace—I can’t live in a glass bowl, with everyone in the world watching my every move. I’m tired, Mason. I don’t want this life.”