The Potluck Club—Takes the Cake

by Linda Evans Shepherd

  David sat down across from me, but I looked past him. Even though the morning glare was shining on the café windows, my “policed” eyes managed to capture a glimpse of Lizzie and her family drive past, probably on their way to church.

  I turned my attention back to David and felt my heart skip a beat. He was looking at me so intensely.

  “How are you?” I asked, hoping to break the moment.

  “Has anyone ever told you how great you look? I mean, honestly, you look so normal.”

  “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

  David laughed. “Take it as one. The women of Hollywood are more about makeup and plastic surgery. They can’t hold a candle to your natural beauty.”

  My cheeks burned at that remark. Natural beauty? I didn’t know whether to laugh or to take him in for questioning. My eyes darted over to Clay to see if he’d noticed my blush. Our eyes locked, then he hid his face behind a menu as Eleana ran to take his order. Was she flirting with him? She was! She was even touching his shoulder, in a very friendly sort of way. From where I sat, it looked like the girl had it bad for him. Go figure.

  After David and I had a breakfast of eggs, bacon, and Larry’s spice apple muffins, David took a sip of his coffee then said, “I’ve been waiting till this moment to tell you my surprise.”

  I looked over to where Clay was sitting; he had finished his breakfast too. He stood up and flipped a dollar on the table be- fore sliding into a new form-fitting leather jacket. Leather jacket? What was the deal with that?

  I turned my attention back to David. “Surprise?” I asked.

  Before he could make his announcement, the café door burst open and Lisa Leann rushed inside, stamping snow off the bottom of her furry snow boots, which perfectly matched her fur-trimmed, camel-colored suede jacket. I suppose she thought it complemented her red hair and all. Honestly, was color and fashion the only nonsense that woman kept in her head?

  As soon as she saw Clay, she ran to him. “Clay, darlin’, look at you. My, you are a handsome one.” She looked at me out of the corner of her eye and spoke even louder. “The girls around here are starting to notice. Why, two of the single women in that Sunday school class I teach asked me about you just the other day.”

  David noticed my stare and turned to watch the exchange.

  “I told them, the next time I see him, I’m inviting him to our class. It would make things a lot more interesting.” She cackled. “Don’t you think? I’m heading that way now, and I could give you a ride. Care to join me?”

  Clay looked embarrassed, but he nodded his head. “Sure.” He paused as if to make sure I was watching. “I guess. Yeah.”

  “Well, good. After all, there’s not a finer bachelor in town than you.”

  She turned to leave then acted surprised to see me. “Donna, I hadn’t realized you were sitting there.”

  “Ah, yeah.”

  Lisa Leann looked David up and down as if she thought he were a stale donut. Then in a fakely sweet voice said, “David, I guess you’re about ready to head back for California.”

  “No, ma’am,” David said with a twinkle in his eyes. “I’m glad you stopped by our table. I was just about to make an announcement.”

  Clay stepped closer. “What sort of announcement?”

  David grinned at his audience. He looked at me. “Some of you knew this was coming, but today it’s official. I’m here to stay.” He paused, staring at me. “It seems I’ve fallen in love.”

  I stared back, not daring to blink. He continued. “Not only with this place but with the people. I said to myself, ‘Summit View’s the place you should be.’ So here I am. My furniture is already en route and...” He craned his neck to look out the window. “There’s my realtor pulling up to the café now.”

  He turned back to me. “Donna, would you help me look at houses this morning? You don’t have to be at work for a while yet, do you? I could really use your advice.”

  All I could do was nod my head, while Lisa Leann said, “Honestly, David. Are you sure this is the wise thing for you to do?” She brightened. “Your girlfriend in LA, she’s coming to join you?”

  David winked at me then looked back at Lisa Leann. “I’m single and looking,” he said with a grin. “I’m liking what I’m seeing right here in Summit View.”

  Lisa Leann, who looked less than amused, shot a quick glance back at Clay. “Oh, I see. Though I’m sure you’ll get bored at our simple way of life and head back to Tinsel Town lickety-split.”

  “We’ll see about that,” David said, still grinning.

  Lisa Leann’s voice seemed to cool. “Well, we will, won’t we?”

  She turned to me as David’s realtor, a Mrs. Wanda Whittman, walked up to the table. Wanda usually goes to Grace Church on Sunday mornings, that is, when she doesn’t have a fish on the line. And David could be a whopper. By the gleam in her eye, I could see she thought so.

  Mrs. Whittman paused, waiting for a break in the conversation. She was as much a fashion plate as Lisa Leann, dressed from head to toe in winter white cashmere, including her long flowing sweater jacket with fur trim. The posh black sunglasses she wore on top of her high-styled blonde hair were the crowning touch.

  But Lisa Leann wasn’t ready to let Wanda get in on the conversation yet. “Oh, Donna dear, good news from your soon-to-be stepmother, Miss Evangeline Benson.”

  I felt my eyebrows cock. What an unsettling thought to have that woman as my stepmother. I crossed my arms. “What did Miss Evangeline have to say?” I asked.

  “Her wedding to your dad is going to be the event of the winter wedding season. And I’ll tell you why: she’s given me free rein in most areas of the planning, mainly because there’s not much time, so she needs a professional to keep things on schedule.”

  This was news to me. “There’s not much time?”

  “Goodness, no. This thing’s going to be a done deal by the end of January.”

  “What? Nobody told me that!”

  “Well, consider yourself told. That’s why I’ll need you to drop by the shop tomorrow so I can take your measurements.”

  “For what?”

  “Your bridesmaid dress. You must be excited to be the maid of honor.”

  I stood to my feet. “I’m the what?”

  “The maid of honor. Who else did you think?”

  “Vonnie,” I stammered. “It should be her best friend, Vonnie.”

  “Well, she’s got the matron of honor position all sewn up. Here’s the exciting part, as all you girls in the Potluck Club are of so many different sizes and dimensions, and as there’s so little time to pick just the right dress that will flatter everyone, I’ve been given the honor of picking out the design myself. Evie gave me her colors and cost guidelines. The rest is up to me.”

  “The potluck girls are Evangeline’s bridesmaids?”

  “Yes. All except me, as I’m the official wedding coordinator. Though I’m going to wear a matching gown because I’ll stand in as an honorary bridesmaid.”

  “Evangeline asked you to be an honorary bridesmaid?”

  “She didn’t have to. I’m simply helping her make all the right decisions.”

  I was starting to like this woman. “Just let me know what I can do to help.”

  “Sure thing. Got to run. You’ll drop by later, won’t you?”

  “Sure,” I said to her back as she darted out the door.

  The next hour turned into a blur, as David and Mrs. Whittman dragged me to mansion after mansion on isolated mountain ridges.

  The latest house graced an upper ridge of Swan Mountain with a spectacular panoramic view.

  Mrs. Whittman had stepped outside to take yet another call on her cell phone. I walked to the patio sliding glass door and looked out over the deck that seemed suspended on the side of the mountain. Just below us stretched a dark green pine forest, flocked in drapes of winter snow.

  Honestly, it was breathtaking. David walked up behind me and put his hand on my shou
lder as we looked at the view together.

  “What do you think of this one?” he asked.

  “It’s a beauty. But a little rich for my blood,” I admitted. “Though I’m sure you could be happy here. I mean, who wouldn’t? But a sixty-two hundred square foot mansion on top of this mountain is not going to be cheap. Do you realize you could fit five or six duplicates of my little mountain bungalow in here?”

  He squeezed my shoulder. “I’m not worried about the cost.”

  I turned and looked up at him. “You must be working with some budget.”

  David stepped closer and closed his eyes as if he were going to kiss me. I turned suddenly. “Did you see that?” I asked, pointing down the mountain.

  “What?” he asked as he stepped closer to the window.

  “That lone buck there.”

  This time, he placed a hand on either side of my shoulders. “Yes, I see it. Look, it’s got a mate.”

  Before he could try to take advantage of the moment again, I darted to the counter to retrieve a color brochure of the house. “You may want this,” I said. I looked at the price tag and gasped. “Five million dollars? You’re prepared to spend five million dollars on this place?”

  “Why not?” David said. “I’m thinking it might be a good investment. Don’t you?”

  “Not really.” I plunged ahead, willing to break the intensity of the moment. “I mean, you gave up Harmony’s home for an apartment. Why do you want a mansion now?”

  David seemed to sense my unease and smiled at me in a way that, so help me, made me want to giggle. Though I hid my reaction with a scowl.

  “You’ve got a good point,” he said. “But I’m thinking I’ll need the tax break after selling the LA home.”

  “But won’t you be lonely in a big place?”

  He looked at me with his puppy dog eyes. “Not with my family around. Besides, I’m not planning to be single forever. Are you?”

  “Can’t imagine why not,” I said, folding my arms and leaning on the wall behind me.

  He took a step toward me. “But don’t you want to find someone special?”

  I shrugged. “I’ve got my family.”

  “You’re lucky.” He walked across the floor till he stood before me, looking down into my upturned face. “Unless I leave LA, I’ll never be able to escape Harmony’s fame. I need to move somewhere where people don’t get swept into all that Tinsel Town gossip. If I move here, I’d have family too. Family who’d see me for me without all the Hollywood hype.”

  I kept my arms folded. “Yeah. I get that.”

  David turned and walked to the patio window and looked down the mountainside. “Donna, I envy you. You’ve got your dad, and when it comes to your relationship with my mom, well, you’re like a daughter to her.”

  I walked up behind him and hit him in the arm with my balled fist. “Then that would make me like your sister.”

  “Sister?” David laughed, rubbing his arm. He turned and looked down at me. “I’d like to be closer than that.”

  I took a deep breath. “David...”

  “Let’s just work at being friends,” he said, “then we’ll see from there, okay?”

  “As long as you don’t get the wrong idea.”

  “Who, me?”

  I put my hands on my hips. “I’d hate to have to take you into custody.” I felt my cheeks flame as I realized I’d just set myself up for a romantic play on words. I tried to backpedal. “I mean...”

  “I’m already in your custody,” David said as I grimaced.

  “You are making me crazy,” I protested.

  “I know. Which is just another reason why I like you so much.”

  “Now, that’s a feeling I’d like to arrest.”

  David grinned. “I know you think you mean that...”

  “Just hush,” I said. “You don’t know who you’re messing with.”

  “Don’t be so sure.”

  Before I could continue the argument, Mrs. Whittman waltzed into the kitchen to join us. “Isn’t it marvelous?” she asked David.

  He looked smug. “Yes, as a matter of fact.” He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “It is.”

  An hour later, Mrs. Whittman had us tucked into her silver Escalade and was headed for town. “I think you’d be very happy at Swan Villa,” she told David. “Do you want to drop by the office and make the owners an offer?”

  “Let me think about it,” David said.

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “The house has a name?”

  “All houses in David’s price range do,” Wanda assured me.

  “Oh.”

  At about four o’clock, Wanda drove the back roads into Summit View, then turned down Vonnie and Fred’s street. The Westbrooks’ front yard was full of vans and news trucks. “What’s going on here?” I asked.

  Mrs. Whittman slowed down. “It looks like a couple of camera and news teams are visiting the Westbrooks,” she said.

  David sighed. “They’ve found me already?”

  A cluster of men and women with microphones turned to stare at us almost hungrily. David growled under his breath. “Well, that didn’t take Clay long.”

  “What did he do?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? He put his story about Vonnie and me on the wire. Unfortunately, it looks like it made the headlines.”

  I felt my temperature rise. So that was Clay’s little secret? He got a makeover so he could guest star on Hollywood Nightly?

  “Stop the truck,” I demanded as Mrs. Whittman pulled over to the side of the road. I turned to David. “Poor Vonnie and Fred, they weren’t prepared for this.”

  David stepped out of the car beside me. “I was going to warn them tonight. The paparazzi arrived sooner than I anticipated.” He looked back at Mrs. Whittman. “I’ve got to check this out. I’ll call you later.”

  Mrs. Whittman leaned over the seat. “Is everything okay?”

  “Peachy,” he said in an exasperated tone. “Just peachy.”

  Before we could make it up the steps, Kendra Goodall, a face I recognized from Hollywood Nightly, stuck her microphone in David’s face and said, “Mr. Harris, it was always rumored that you were the illegitimate son of the famed Hollywood actress, Harmony Harris, and one of her leading men. So, we can put those rumors to bed?”

  I was surprised that David knew his way around a microphone. “Yes. Those rumors were false. Harmony’s publicist has prepared a statement in the event this became known. But in the meantime, I can tell you that the late Harmony Harris was my mother by adoption.”

  “So, you’ve come to Summit View, Colorado, to meet your birth mother, Vonnie Westbrook? According to the news story that came across AP last night, there were mysterious circumstances surrounding your adoption. What can you tell us?”

  David put on his sunshades. “No comment.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Wade Gage’s truck come to a full stop as Wade swung open the door of his cab.

  Kendra said, “So, David, is the rumor true that you’re engaged to be married? Is this your fiancée?”

  The camera focused on both of us as Wade stopped dead in his tracks and David slipped a protective arm around me. “I have no comment to make at this time.”

  “Then you’re not denying the rumor?” The reporter shoved the microphone into my face. “Can you tell us your name and what it’s like to be engaged to one of the most eligible bachelors in Hollywood?”

  It was unlike me to freeze before a camera. How many times had I given a statement to the Denver TV news teams following a particularly spectacular automobile accident or rock slide? But this time, no words came from my mouth.

  Wade, dressed in his cowboy boots, jeans, and fleece-lined denim jacket stomped toward the reporter and pointed at her cameraman. “Why don’t you point that thing in another direction?”

  Kendra quickly motioned for her cameraman to turn the camera in Wade’s direction. “This is a free country, cowboy,” she said. “I can point our c
amera where I please. And if you don’t leave, I’m going to call in the local law.”

  Suddenly I found my voice as the camera whipped back to me. “That won’t be necessary,” I said as I flashed my badge, which I kept in my wallet. “I am the law, and you’re trespassing on private property. I think it’s time for you and your crew to leave before I call for backup.”

  9

  Who’s That Girl?

  Clay would have tucked his tail between his legs and dragged himself home, but he needed to run to the office and handle some last minute details concerning the article he’d written and sent out the night before.

  As soon as he arrived in the modernized building, he headed for his personal cubicle, sorted through the mail the receptionist had left stacked in a black-wired mail drop, tossed the junk, and returned the rest. It was a Sunday. He’d read it tomorrow.

  He kicked back in his chair, turned on his computer, and deleted about a hundred forwarded emails. He skimmed the rest, grinning when he saw that he’d received an email from Britney, the new girl in town who worked at the Hallmark store. Her screen name was CardGirlBrit. Subject line read: Guess who?

  It had been sent just before noon.

  He opened it immediately.

  Hey, cutie. Bet you didn’t think I was smart enough to figure out your email address over at the paper. But, I am. I haven’t seen you in a while in the shop but caught a glimpse of you heading down Main Street yesterday in your Jeep and in church today. So, what’s up with that?

  And, what gives? You don’t have anyone to buy any more sweet gifts for anymore? Come to see me, okay? I’m working this afternoon from noon till five.

  “Cutie,” she’d called him.

  He’d head over there soon. A sudden thought occurred to him. Maybe two could dance to this tune, Miss Donna Vesey. Maybe he’d ask Britney to dinner tonight, and make certain Donna found out about it. He grinned, then got busy with his work, grateful he was in the building alone.

  A little while later, he went to the men’s restroom to freshen up a bit. Happy with his appearance, he left the building and walked the five or six blocks to the card shop. A light snow was beginning to dance in the air; he’d read over the wire that an early blizzard was due to hit the area. He’d have to keep that in mind if Britney agreed to go out with him. He shook his head a bit. When she agreed to go out with him. He needed to stay positive, be confident. He was a man not used to dating. To be exact, he was a man not used to having women agree to go out with him. All that was about to change, he decided. He took a deep breath and sighed. He hoped it was, anyway.