by Pamela Bauer
Some lucky baby is about to be discovered by talent scout Kika Mancini, and hopeful parents in Tyler are all stirred up!
The only baby she wants, though, belongs to Nick Miller. And he’s not even tempted by what Kika is offering his daughter.
What she’s offering him, however, is another matter entirely.
“Do you want me to go?”
Nick was so still Kika thought she’d done something wrong. He opened his eyes and what Kika saw made her tremble.
“No, I don’t want you to go,” he said, his breath hot against her face. “I want you to stay so that I can show you that I know how to have fun.”
“And how do you plan on doing that?” she asked with a provocative push of her hips against his.
His answer made her forget all the reasons she wasn’t supposed to get involved with him. Made her forget he wasn’t the man she should have wanted. But he was the man she wanted to feel inside her. The man she needed to feel inside her. She savored every moment of the ecstasy, wishing it would never end.
But it did, and later, as he lay propped on one elbow, he said, “That wasn’t fun, Kika.” She would have turned away from him, but he placed a hand along her jaw and added, “That was uncontrollable desire.” He placed kisses on her forehead, her nose, her mouth, and then with slow deliberation caressed her swollen breasts. “Fun is what comes next.”
Award-winning author Pamela Bauer is delighted to be a part of the Tyler Hometown Reunion series. Born and raised in Minnesota, she knows there’s something special about the Midwest that makes the small town of Tyler the perfect setting for stories about love and family relationships. Pamela often takes a lighthearted approach to writing, believing that where there’s love there should be laughter.
Fancy’s Baby
PAMELA BAUER
Around the quilting circle…
“I do love this pattern,” Tessie Finklebaum declared, looking down at the stars and stripes of the quilt stretched out before her in its walnut frame.
“Liza thinks we ought to call it Independence. She says it reminds her of the Fourth of July,” said Martha Bauer as she worked her needle through the fabric.
“And she’s right,” Annabelle Scanlon stated authoritatively. “I think we ought to raffle it off at the picnic.” Much of the quilting circle’s work was either donated to charity or raffled off for a worthy cause.
“I hear they’re bringing in a carnival this year,” Bea Ferguson remarked.
Annabelle sighed. “Don’t I know it. My two grandsons have talked about nothing else.”
“And Melody?” Tessie asked gently.
Annabelle shot her a warning look. “Melody hasn’t said anything.”
Her statement was greeted with a chorus of sympathetic “ohs.” Everyone in Tyler knew how concerned Annabelle was that her granddaughter was nearly two years old and had yet to utter a single word. They’d all hoped that when Annabelle enrolled her in TylerTots, the little girl would overcome her shyness—if shyness was what kept Melody from speaking….
WELCOME TO A
HOMETOWN REUNION
Twelve books set in Tyler. Twelve unique stories. Together they form a colorful patchwork of triumphs and trials—the fabric of America’s favorite hometown.
Unexpected Son Marisa Carroll
The Reluctant Daddy Helen Conrad
Love and War Peg Sutherland
Hero in Disguise Vicki Lewis Thompson
Those Baby Blues Helen Conrad
Daddy Next Door Ginger Chambers
A Touch of Texas Kristine Rolofson
Fancy’s Baby Pamela Bauer
Undercover Mom Muriel Jensen
Puppy Love Ginger Chambers
Hot Pursuit Muriel Jensen
Mission: Children Marisa Carroll
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
“OH, GOOD. SHE comes bearing gifts.” Propping her two-year-old son on her hip, Frannie Mancini held the screen door open for her sister-in-law.
With a box of chocolates in one hand and a bottle of white zinfandel in the other, Kika Mancini stepped inside the house.
“What are we celebrating?” Frannie asked.
“The fact that I made it out of the studio with my sanity,” Kika answered, giving her nephew, T.J., an affectionate tap on the nose.
“Lucky me. Your bad days mean I get wine and chocolate. Today must have been pretty bad,” Frannie concluded, eyeing the size of the box.
T.J., recognizing the candy in his aunt’s hands, squealed in delight. His tiny fists opened and closed in anticipation of what was inside the cellophane-wrapped package.
Wearing a bib-front denim jumper, with her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, Kika looked much younger than her twenty-eight years as she ripped open the box of chocolates.
“It’s a good thing I left when I did,” she said tiredly. “I don’t know what would have happened if I had to listen to one more pushy mother try to convince me her child will do whatever is necessary to be a star.”
“You’re not still looking for the hot dog kids, are you?” Frannie asked, trying to distract T.J. with a soda cracker.
Kika sighed. “I haven’t found a single one who can sing that hokey hot dog jingle to Mr. Gunther’s satisfaction.” She studied the assortment of chocolates, then plucked a square piece from the box. Before popping it into her mouth, she added, “Every time I work with kids I have trouble. It’s a good thing I’m not a mom.”
“It’s different when they’re your own,” Frannie assured her. “Someday you’ll see.”
Kika knew she should contradict her sister-in-law, but she was in no mood to discuss the subject of motherhood, especially not with anyone connected to her family. None of the Mancinis knew the reason why she was never going to be a mother. And they never would.
“Well, someday isn’t here, and in the meantime I have to not only find the hot dog kid, but the Fancy baby, too.”
“You’re talking about a toddler for the baby-furniture ad?”
Kika nodded. “Horace Fancy wants me to find the perfect baby, which we both know is impossible.”
“Yeah, there’s only one perfect child in this world and unfortunately, he’s not a girl.” Frannie made little sucking sounds up and down T.J.’s arm that caused him to giggle.
The display of affection brought a lump to Kika’s throat. A familiar cold sensation squeezed her heart. It lasted only a few moments, then disappeared. Nonetheless, it was there, just as it always was whenever she saw a mother hugging her baby. It wasn’t envy so much as a sickening sense of loss, a reminder of precious moments she had never had with a daughter she had never known.
With practiced discipline, Kika pushed aside the haunting memory and said, “Tell me what I can do to help with dinner.”
“Why don’t you take T.J. into the family room so he can watch his new video?” Frannie suggested. “I’ll work the kitchen.”
Kika grimaced. “Not the singing elephant again.”
“No, and you won’t need to do any counting or reciting of the alphabet, either. I promise. This video is rather unique.”
Kika cast a dubious glance in her sister-in-law’s direction.
“Really. It will make you smile.”
“So will this.” Kika reached for a chocolate cream and eyed it appreciatively before taking a bite.
“That’s fattening. The video isn�
�t.”
“Wouldn’t T.J. rather listen to some music? I’ve got a new blues CD.”
Frannie thrust a hand to her hip. “Uh-oh. That must mean you broke up with Frankie. What happened?”
“He wanted to get married.”
“And what’s wrong with marriage?”
Kika could see every dark hair on her sister-in-law’s head rise defensively. “Nothing. Frankie’s what’s wrong.”
Frannie laughed. “Come. Follow me. I want to show you something.” She led Kika to the family room and gestured for her to take a seat on the striped sofa while she turned on the television.
“I’m really not in the mood to watch videos,” Kika pleaded.
“This one’s different.” Frannie’s slightly overweight figure bent to slide the videocassette into the VCR. Within seconds the blank screen was filled with children T.J.’s age.
“What is this?” Kika asked, as two little boys built a tower of blocks.
“It’s the latest in baby-sitting tools. It’s called Video Playmates,” Frannie announced grandly. “When I slip this tape in, T.J. thinks he’s at a day-care center playing with other kids. Isn’t it neat?”
Kika stared at the TV screen, watching two children roll a big red ball back and forth. “You mean someone actually makes videos of kids playing?”
“Umm-hmm. T.J. loves it. It’s like having friends over to play, yet I don’t have the hassle of watching someone else’s kids. And you should hear the funny things these kids say.”
Moments later a little boy in the video tugged on the crotch of his jeans, saying, “Something itches.”
Frannie hooted, while Kika simply lifted her eyebrows. “Quite a creative scriptwriter,” she said dryly.
“Oh, it’s not scripted. That’s what makes it all so funny. Everything is natural. Clever, huh?”
Kika didn’t want to tell her sister-in-law that to someone who had spent the day interviewing six-and seven-year-olds, watching an unrehearsed video of children at play was not entertainment. It was punishment. She leaned her head back, her eyes drifting shut.
Frannie noticed. “You think it’s boring.”
Kika tried to look alert. “No, it’s a great idea for T.J. It’s obvious he likes it,” she observed, as her nephew stood transfixed in front of the TV.
“Here. Let me fast-forward it. There’s a playmate for moms, too.” Frannie pressed a button on the VCR, and tiny bodies moved in frenetic motion. When the tape finally resumed normal speed, she said, “Check this out.”
This section of the video didn’t look to be much different than the rest, but Kika didn’t comment on the fact. Frannie appeared to be just as engrossed with the video as T.J.
“Look at the guy who just walked in the door. Talk about hunk power,” Frannie enthused, as a dark-haired man wearing a white shirt and a navy-blue tie looked directly into the camera.
“He’s not bad,” Kika answered nonchalantly, not wanting to admit that there was something about the man’s strong features that caused her muscles to tense in a purely sensual way.
“Not bad? He’s great! Too bad Fancy’s not looking for a father model. I bet this guy could sell a lot of baby furniture. After all, it’s mothers who do the buying.”
“Maybe. Who do you suppose he is?” Kika asked, intrigued by the man, whose cheeks dimpled when he smiled.
“I don’t think he’d be wearing a suit if he were one of the day-care workers, and he’s only in this part of the video.”
“He looks like he should be flying a plane or climbing a mountain.”
“He is one tall, dark and handsome dude,” Frannie said dreamily.
“He’s good-looking, but he could be really short. After all, he’s in the land of three-foot-tall people,” Kika reminded her.
“Maybe he’s one of the kids’ father.”
“More likely a plant to get women to buy the tape,” Kika said cynically. “Sex sells everything—even kids’ videos.”
Frannie clicked her tongue. “You’ve been in the business too long. You can’t even appreciate a good-looking guy anymore.”
“Because I’ve discovered that most good-looking men have no personality.” In her work as a casting director, Kika came into contact with gorgeous men on a regular basis. She had learned, however, that the contents weren’t necessarily as attractive as the fancy packaging. She knew better than to expect the inner man would be as wonderful as the outer.
“Kuck!” T.J. roared, as one little boy pushed a big red fire engine across the floor, blubbering motorlike sounds.
“Yes, darling, I see the truck,” Frannie said to him, then looked back at Kika and added, “See? It’s perfect for T.J.” Once again she gave her attention to her son and said in a sugary voice, “All the little kids are having fun at play.”
“Not all of them,” Kika noted. “There’s one little girl pouting in the corner.”
“You’re right. I hadn’t noticed her before. Maybe she’s camera shy.”
“She doesn’t look frightened to me. She looks mad.” Kika stared at the tiny red-haired girl who stood with lower lip extended, forehead wrinkled.
“Even pouting she’s adorable, Look how tiny she is compared to the other children,” Frannie commented. “You don’t suppose the good-looking guy’s her father, do you? She keeps gazing in his direction.”
“If he is, he’s not acting like it, although he does seem to be tossing furtive glances her way, doesn’t he?” Kika leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. “Where’s your remote control?”
“It’s right next to you on the end table,” Frannie answered. “Why?”
Kika picked up the remote and punched several buttons.
“What are you doing?” Frannie shrieked in alarm.
“I’m adjusting the color. I want to see if her hair is really that glorious shade of red or if the color on your set needs to be fine-tuned.”
Frannie grabbed the device from Kika’s fingers. “You can’t do that. Tony has a fit if anyone messes with those function buttons.”
Kika snatched it right back and said, “I’ll reset it the way it was. My brother won’t even know I messed with it.”
She adjusted the contrast, color and tint, then said with a satisfied sigh, “That little girl has the most wonderfully expressive face. Where’s the video package?”
“I’ll get it for you.” Frannie retrieved the case from the oak cabinet and handed it to Kika, who quickly scanned the small print on the back. “What are you looking for?”
“The producer’s name. It says here this was filmed in Tyler, Wisconsin. Where’s that?”
Frannie shrugged. “I never heard of it. I ordered the tape from a catalog.”
“Thank goodness you did.”
“Are you thinking that little redhead could be Fancy’s Baby?” Frannie asked as Kika replayed the portion of the video where the child appeared.
“She’s cute and Mr. Fancy’s partial to redheads. And there’s something about her that makes you want to watch her whether she’s pouting or not.”
“But she doesn’t look like she’d be easy to work with. She won’t even play with the other kids in the video,” Frannie noted.
“That doesn’t mean she wouldn’t be a good model. The only way to find out is to test her. I have an idea.” Kika pulled a cellular phone from her purse and punched in seven numbers. “Wendy, it’s me. Locate Tyler, Wisconsin, for me, will you? And see if you can find out the best way to get there.”
“You’re going to go to Wisconsin?” Frannie asked as soon as Kika had hung up the phone.
“I might be.” She stared pensively at the video package.
“But there are nearly three million people right here in the Minneapolis–St. Paul area. You don’t need to go to a small town to find a talent.”
Kika didn’t comment, but sat tapping her pen against the video package.
“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?” Frannie stared at her sister-in-law in amazement.
<
br /> “Horace Fancy has been harping at me to find a model who looks like she’s the baby next door. What better place to look for that innocence than in a small town?”
“So you’re going to go to Tyler, Wisconsin, and see how many of these babies you can convince to come to Minnesota for an audition?”
Kika nodded. “If these videos are produced on a regular basis, there could be other babies for me to audition as well.”
“When will you go?”
“As soon as possible. Horace Fancy wants to launch a huge advertising campaign this fall. If I don’t find the right baby, he’ll go somewhere else.”
Kika’s cellular phone rang. Grabbing it up, she quickly pulled a notepad from her purse and began scribbling. As soon as the conversation ended, she said to Frannie, “Sorry, but I can’t stay for dinner. I have to go home and pack. I’m leaving tonight.”
“You have to be kidding! This commercial can’t be that important.”
Kika stuffed her notepad back in her purse. “I don’t want to lose out on this one. Besides, I’ve learned in this business that she who hesitates is lost.”
“What if that little redhead’s mother doesn’t want her to be a model?”
“With the kind of incentive Mr. Fancy’s offering, she will,” Kika answered confidently. “I’ll explain that the money she’ll earn will make a nice college fund. No mother in her right mind would turn down a chance for her kid to make big bucks in such a short time.”
Frannie didn’t look convinced. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“Well, then it’ll be my job to persuade her,” Kika stated positively. She bent down to give her nephew a kiss. “Bye, T.J. Have fun.”
Frannie followed her to the door. “Maybe you’ll meet that hunk in the suit.”
Kika could see that her sister-in-law’s imagination was running wild. “And if I do, what should I tell him? That there’s a married woman back here in Minnesota lusting after his body?”
Frannie clicked her tongue. “Kika, you’re hopeless.”
“I have a job to do.”
“And if you don’t find Fancy’s Baby? What then?”