by Cathie Linz
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Excerpt
Dear Reader1
Title Page
Dear Reader2
Dedication
Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
Epilogue
Copyright
Once upon a time there lived the Marriage Makers—three fairy godmothers. Their job was to find true love for all the triplets in their domain, including the Knight triplets. One by one, each fairy sprinkled her magic fairy dust…
And baby Anastasia got an overdose of intelligence and attitude! The last thing she needed was any man telling her what to do. Anastasia became Too Smart for Marriage.
“Cathie’s writing always glows with warmth and charm.”
—Jayne Ann Krentz
“Cathie is a great storyteller.”
—Lass Small
“Love and laughter is never more delightful than from the clever pen of Cathie Linz.”
—Melinda Helfer
Dear Reader,
We have two delightful, funny and charming LOVE & LAUGHTER stories for you this month! Cathie Linz concludes her MARRIAGE MAKERS miniseries with #51 Too Smart for Marriage, the story of the last remaining single Knight triplet, Anastasia Knight. She was blessed by her fairy godmother with a dash too much attitude and a heck of a lot of smarts, resulting in a woman who believes she has no use for marriage. Boy, is she about to be proved wrong!
Then bright new talent Bonnie Tucker continues her winning and hilarious storytelling in #52 Stay Tuned: Wedding at 11:00. It brings to mind the great classic romantic comedies like His Girl Friday, with lots of nineties spice! Don’t miss the live, on-air wedding…maybe!
So take some time out of your busy schedule and enjoy the lighter side of love. Remember LOVE & LAUGHTER is 100% fat free!
Enjoy!
Malle Vallik
Associate Senior Editor
Too Smart for Marriage
Cathie Linz
Dear Reader,
Okay, I confess. I chose the ice-cream-parlor setting for this book because I’m a sucker for an old-fashioned banana split. Who wouldn’t love owning their own ice cream parlor? And imagine the fun I had with research—every calorie was work related! My favorite homemade ice cream creation has hot fudge and caramel sauce poured over fresh pecans and soft vanilla ice cream.
The origins of ice cream are shrouded in myth, with credit going either to the Chinese, Nero (Claudius Caesar) in ancient Rome, or the chef of King Charles I of England. I’ve heard it on good authority that fairy godmothers actually created ice cream…once upon a time, give or take a few years.
I’ve had fun working on this special trilogy with Betty, Muriel and Hattie Goodie. This is the final book in my MARRIAGE MAKERS trilogy. I hope you enjoy reading Anastasia and David’s story as much as I did writing it! And if you should feel a craving for ice cream, try this fast and easy recipe for Mud Pie!
Happy reading…and eating!
Cathie Linz
MUD PIE
I quart coffee ice cream, softened 1 prepared chocolate cookie pie crust (9 inches) 1/2 cup chocolate syrup
Spread ice cream into crust, pour chocolate syrup on top and swirl with a knife. Cover and freeze for at least two hours. Serve frozen.
Special thanks to:
Bill Phillips for his talent for naming places, to Susan Elizabeth Phillips for a million things, including title brainstorming and to Sharon Lawrence at Downers Grove Public Library for introducing me to THE FROG PRINCESS. Reddit!
Prologue
“I JUST LOVE WEDDINGS,” Hattie Goodie said, her gossamer wings quivering.
“I must say, they’ve put out a good spread.” Betty, the oldest Goodie triplet, nodded in approval as she viewed the tables laden with delectable goodies from lobster hors d’oeuvres and cold shrimp to chocolate-covered strawberries and white chocolate fondue. Her blunt-cut Prince Valiant hairdo matched her equally blunt personality.
“It’s a good thing that, as fairy godmothers, we don’t have to worry about calories.” This comment came from the third sister, Muriel, in her down-to-earth way. She was sitting on top of the pile of gifts displayed on a side table in the ballroom. Hattie, who loved being higher than anyone else, perched on the biggest present while Betty marched along the table edge like a general at a battle site.
“I can’t believe you two would dress so casually for such an elegant occasion.” Hattie, fully decked out in a lavender gown and wide-brimmed picture hat with shoes and purse dyed to match, sniffed her disapproval of her sisters’ attire. “Betty, a T-shirt is simply not appropriate at a wedding reception.”
“I didn’t want to outshine the bride,” Betty retorted, smoothing out the wrinkles from one of her favorite T-shirts. “Read it and weep.” She pointed to the wording: Fairy Godmothers Fly Because They Take Themselves Lightly. “Besides, we’re invisible, for petunia’s sake.”
“One must still keep up appearances,” Hattie stated primly.
Betty snorted with unladylike and unfairy-godmotherlike loudness.
Sensing she wouldn’t win this particular battle, Hattie redirected her ire toward Muriel. “And you, wearing that khaki photographer’s vest. It’s not like you even own a camera.”
Muriel just shrugged. “I like all the pockets.”
Recalling the fight she’d had with Muriel a few weeks before when she’d tried to give her sister a makeover, Hattie decided to let sleeping dogs lie—or, in this case, let fashion-challenged fairy godmothers remain hopelessly out-of-date. Instead she focused her attention on their surroundings once more. “At least the ballroom is beautifully decorated, even if you two aren’t,” she couldn’t help adding.
The Carousel Banquet Hall was awash in white tablecloths and lavender napkins. White fairy lights glittered, revealing flowers and more flowers. In the far corner of the ballroom, dressed in an elegant confection of satin and antique lace, the bride was feeding a generous slice of wedding cake to her groom.
“I’m so pleased that Jason and Heather are finally married.” Hattie dabbed her eyes with an embroidered lawn handkerchief. “I feared this day would never come.”
“Ryan and Courtney did the sensible thing and eloped.” Muriel’s voice reflected her approval of her charges’ actions.
This attitude came as no surprise to Hattie. Being a no-nonsense fairy godmother herself, Muriel approved of similar traits in humans.
“Jason thought Ryan was joking when he announced that he’d been transferred back to Chicago and was returning a married man,” Betty said.
“Jason was just peeved that he wasn’t the first of the Knight triplets to tie the knot,” Muriel replied.
“He doesn’t look peeved any longer,” Betty noted. “He looks happy.”
Muriel nodded. “So does Ryan.”
“Which leaves us with their sister, Anastasia.”
All three fairy godmothers directed their attention toward the dark-haired young woman in a sleek lavender bridesmaid’s dress. Her long hair was coiled on top of her head, displaying a pair of dangling earrings that upon closer examination turned out to be miniature books. She’d exchanged her strappy dress heels for a pair of comfortable white running shoes.
“Okay,” Betty stated. “This time we’re going to take a different approach to our work. With Jason and Ryan we were sort of flying by the seat of our pants—”
“No sort of about it,” Muriel interjected. “We were definitely flying by the seat of our pants.”
&n
bsp; Betty frowned. She hated being interrupted. “Ever since we began this job of fairy godmothering and then inadvertently spilled too much fairy dust on our little charges at their christening, we’ve been dealing with our mistake while trying to unite them with their soul mates. Since then, we’ve dealt with a number of other triplets born in our jurisdiction with a fair amount of success. But the Knight triplets have always been unique.”
“Probably because we gave Jason too much sex appeal and common sense as a baby, while his brother Ryan got too much stubbornness and humor.”
“Don’t forget Anastasia. Too much intelligence and attitude. It looks good on her, though, don’t you think?” Hattie said proudly.
“Anything would look good on her,” Muriel admitted.
Turning their attention back to the wedding, the sisters saw that the guests had started dancing. The music, provided by the state-of-the-art sound system supplied by Heather’s employer, radio station WMAX, filled the large ballroom. The song was “The One” by Elton John, which had a special place in Jason and Heather’s hearts. The newlyweds looked blissfully happy, as did Ryan and Courtney.
Anastasia, however, did not appear to be equally pleased. She was dancing with a stocky man who was more than a bit tipsy. When the guy made the mistake of groping Anastasia’s bottom, she stomped on his foot.
“Too much attitude,” Betty stated with a shake of her head.
Hattie immediately leaped to her charge’s defense. “She was more than provoked. That lounge lizard had no business acting in such an ungentlemanly manner!” With a look of undisguised disdain, she straightened her hat, her white-gloved fingers checking the purple bow fastened beneath her chin.
“She’s going to be a handful,” Muriel said. “Do we know who her soul mate is yet?”
“Of course we know. It’s our job to know,” Betty stated.
“David Sullivan. A tough cookie who doesn’t believe in dreams,” Hattie admitted.
“Which is one of the reasons I think we need to have a specific plan for Anastasia,” Betty continued.
“We always say we have a plan, but it rarely works,” Hattie said.
Betty shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, well, I’ll admit that sometimes accidents do happen—”
“They sure do, and have you noticed that they seem to happen to us more often than to most?” This observation came from Muriel.
“Which is why we’re going to call in some backup,” Betty said.
“A guardian angel?” Hattie said the words reverently.
“No, a grandmother.”
“A grandmother?”
“That’s right. We need a human assistant in our matchmaking endeavors. One who can keep an eye on things,” Betty said. “After all, we do have other charges to keep track of.”
“What’s with all this we stuff?” Muriel asked. “I thought this was Hattie’s assignment and we’re only here to advise. That’s what you told me when my assignment was to make Ryan fall in love. I mean, Hattie is the one who spilled too much attitude and intelligence on baby Anastasia.”
“Come on now,” Betty said. “You know our motto. All for one and one for all.”
“That’s the Three Musketeers.”
“Well, if it’s good enough for them, it’s good enough for us. Now, where was I?”
Hattie replied, “You said you were going to get human assistance on this case. A grandmother.”
“Right.” Betty nodded. “I’ve enlisted David Sullivan’s grandmother to our cause.”
“Is that allowed?” Hattie sounded uncertain.
Betty shrugged. “I won’t tell, if you don’t.”
“Why can’t David and Anastasia just meet and fall in love at first sight?” Hattie asked wistfully.
Betty shook her head. “That would be too easy.”
“What’s wrong with easy? Easy is good,” Muriel said.
“It may be good, but it’s not our lot in life. Come on,” Betty coaxed in her hearty voice. “Where’s your sense of adventure? Any trio of fairy godmothers could handle easy cases. It takes specialists like us to come up with innovative ways to deal with the really challenging ones.”
“What is it that we’re specialists in exactly?” Hattie inquired uncertainly.
“Trouble.” Muriel’s answer was succinct.
“Creating it or fixing it?” Hattie asked.
“Both, I’m afraid. But that’s about to change. Claire Sullivan wants to see her only grandson settled down. She’s raised him since his parents died when he was ten. David listens to his grandmother. With her on our side, this will be a piece of cake.”
No sooner were Betty’s words spoken than there was a scuffle over by the wedding cake. Anastasia was angrily shrugging off the unwanted attention of her stocky dance partner, who still hadn’t gotten the message despite the earlier stomping she’d given his foot. She shoved him. In his tipsy state, he stumbled backward, his arms windmilling as he froze for a moment before falling smack-dab into the middle of the wedding cake.
“A piece of cake,” Muriel noted mockingly. “Yeah, right.”
1
“DENTON WOULDN’T keep his mitts off me. I only gave him a small shove, but since he was already drunk, he lost his balance and ended up flattening my brother’s wedding cake. And that’s how I ended up ruining Jason’s reception last weekend,” Anastasia Knight told her friend, Claire Sullivan, as the two of them headed north on Chicago’s Lake Shore Drive.
Anastasia was driving her vintage red Triumph convertible, her dark hair gathered in a ponytail to prevent it from whipping in the wind. The August day was warm but a cool breeze off the lake kept the temperature reasonable.
Claire had tugged a Chicago Cubs baseball cap low on her head to keep her hairdo in place. For someone in her seventies, Claire looked younger than her years, especially in the sapphire jogging suit she was wearing.
“Oh, dear.” Claire shot her a concerned look. “Was he very angry?”
“Who?” Anastasia asked as she adeptly scooted the car around slower traffic. She drove the way she lived—with confidence and a dash of excitement. “Denton? Or Jason?”
“Denton deserved what he got,” Claire stated. “I meant Jason.”
“He wasn’t real pleased, but Heather was a brick. She got everyone laughing and then distracted the crowd by gathering us together so she could throw her bouquet.”
“And how did that go?”
“Well, Heather’s maid of honor was her radioshow producer, Nita Weiskopf. She sure isn’t the shy sort. Nita was right in front—ready to do whatever it took to grab that bouquet. I was way in the back.”
“Being the shy sort yourself,” Claire noted with a teasing grin.
“Yeah, right.” Anastasia grinned back. “We both know I don’t have a shy bone in my body. I was in the back because I didn’t want to catch that bouquet and get stuck being the next bride.”
“You’ve got something against brides?”
“Not at all. As long as I’m not one of them. I like my freedom too much. Anyway, Heather threw the bouquet straight toward Nita. Then the strangest thing happened.” She paused for a moment. “Despite my best efforts to stay away from the blasted thing, it suddenly veered, and landed right on top of me. It was either catch the flowers or get hit in the head by them.”
“How lucky for you!”
“I wouldn’t call that lucky. Meeting you at the library, now that was lucky.” Anastasia had felt an immediate affinity with the older woman, and their friendship had continued to grow over the past year.
“It was a red-letter day for me, as well,” Claire fondly declared. “As is today. Think of it. Me, a businesswoman. I can still scarcely believe it.”
“You’ll be great.”
“I’ve wanted to open my own ice-cream parlor for years, but it was always just a dream, one I never thought I’d be able to see fulfilled.”
“It was a stroke of luck that the owners of the building where I live decided to se
ll now,” Anastasia said. “The store on the main floor has that wonderful marble counter, perfect for your ice-cream parlor. The place was just crying out to be renovated. I can’t believe that, after the Polish deli located there closed, the storefront stood empty for a year.” Pausing to give Claire a grin, she added, “You know you’ve got a good tenant in me. And when you rent out the third-floor apartment, you’ll have another regular income.”
“I know. I can’t wait to get started with the renovation on the storefront. I hope to open up for business in six weeks.”
Fifteen minutes later, Anastasia parked on the street in front of her building. She’d barely turned off the car engine when Claire hopped out and hurried to the front door.
“Goodness, I’m so nervous I can’t even undo the lock.” The older woman paused to squeeze Anastasia’s hand. “Thanks again for coming with me to the real-estate closing. It meant a lot to me that you were there to hold my hand.”
Anastasia hugged Claire. “That’s what friends are for.”
“I was hoping my grandson would be back from his conference in New York to come with me…but I guess he got tied up.”
Anastasia wanted to tie him up and talk some sense into the bum. There was no love lost between Anastasia and Claire’s grandson, David. Not that she’d ever actually met the guy, but that didn’t stop her from disliking him. He sounded like a workaholic who didn’t take the time to really appreciate his grandmother, who was a pretty incredible woman.
Claire’s sky-blue eyes were clear and bright, and her auburn hair showed no sign of white, thanks to her religious visits to Paula’s PowderPuff Beauty Salon, which she’d confessed she’d been going to since Eisenhower was president. And Claire had a big heart. She deserved better than a grandson who wasn’t there when she needed him.