by Beth Ciotta
“To get married before the baby’s born,” Chloe squeaked as the first tear rolled. “Haven’t you been listening?”
“Avidly,” Daisy said while handing her a tissue. “Just having a hard time keeping up. Maybe it’s the fumes from the fabric deodorizer. I sprayed the costume right before I pulled it on.”
“You need to be careful about that.”
“You know me,” Daisy said while waggling her brows. “Evel Knievel of Sugar Creek.”
Chloe smiled a little but not enough.
“Did you tell Dev about your change of heart?”
She shook her head. “He’s been pushing me to set a wedding date for months. Seems a little unfair of me to say now in the zero hour.”
“Fair, schmair, and it’s not the zero hour. The doctor said you could be in labor throughout the night.” Daisy’s mind whirled. “If only you had a marriage license.”
“We do. Devlin—”
“Then it’s not too late!” Bouncing on the heels of her metallic sneakers, Daisy grabbed a pen from the little nightstand and pulled her folded page from her pants pocket.
“What are you doing?” Chloe asked as she hugged her belly.
“Crossing you and my grandson off my family bucket list.”
“What’s a—”
“I’ll be back with a preacher,” Daisy said as she hurried toward the door. “Don’t let anyone steal Millie.”
“But—”
“My stars are aligned,” Daisy called over her shoulder. “No worries, kitten!” Giddy as a kid on Christmas morning, Daisy sailed into the hall and snagged Vincent’s arm. “Come on, Speedy. We’re on a mission.”
She waggled her fingers over her shoulder at her son and daughter-in-law, smiling when she heard Jerome say, “Good God. My mother looks like she dipped her head in Ty-D-Bol.”
EIGHTEEN
Stepping into the crowded waiting room was like braving the sidelines of a star-studded red carpet. The excitement was palatable, the noise level intense. Harper half expected the paparazzi to swarm which was ridiculous. It’s not like Chloe was giving birth to a prince, although maybe that’s how it felt to these people.
Come to think of it, given all Harper had heard and experienced, the Monroes were as good as Sugar Creek royalty—Daisy being the grand, albeit eccentric, matriarch. Her son Jerome was the CEO of J. T. Monroe’s Department Store, family owned and operated for generations. He also dabbled in local politics. His son, Devlin (Chloe’s fiancé), served as CFO of the family business. A financial wiz, Dev (as Sam called him) also headed his own investment company. According to Daisy, her grandson had a bit of a Midas touch and his advice and astute financial planning had benefited several clients, including a few family members.
As for Chloe, although relatively new to Sugar Creek, she was held in high regard. Not only because she was Dev’s lady, but because she’d partnered with Daisy to open Moose-a-lotta. A gifted baker, she was also one of the Cupcake Lovers’ newest shining stars.
Harper had processed all that information as she’d gravitated toward the group of people she knew best—the Cupcake Lovers. Ethel, Helen, Judy, Rocky, Monica, Casey, Rae. They were all here, most all with a husband or partner. Joey was missing, but given her newbie status, that made sense. Daisy had shuffled off to visit the children’s ward as Millie Moose and Sam was mingling with various family members—most of whom Harper didn’t recognize.
Every once in a while Sam caught Harper’s eye and she immediately looked away. No man had ever kissed her like Sam. Or maybe it was that no man had ever made her feel the way Sam made her feel. Not even Andrew. A man she’d professed to love. A man she’d agreed to marry. Maybe that’s why she’d ultimately failed him. Maybe her affections hadn’t been strong enough, real enough. Maybe she’d been more in love with the idea of being a bride than a wife. The possibility shamed Harper and pushed her thoughts into dark places. She didn’t want to go there, so she kept to the light, informing the Cupcake Lovers of her media plan regarding the impending birth of the newest CL. Because everyone was happy for a distraction, they’d jumped on their phones to join in the cyberparty. The younger set were off and running. The seniors, bless their hearts, were following along if not contributing as quickly. Except for Helen who looked a little frazzled.
“I’m sorry,” she said when Harper approached. “How do I get that … what did you call it?”
“App.” She smiled at the older woman who’d only recently upgraded to a smartphone.
“We just learned how to use the texting option,” her husband said. “Everything else is Greek.”
“You can install Facebook via the Google Play Store,” Harper said.
They both blinked.
Harper reached for Helen’s phone. “Could I—”
“Please.”
“Let me watch,” Daniel said. “We need to get with the times. Can’t always rely on a young person to be around.”
“Gotcha.” Harper purposely slowed her efforts. “Social media is the key word here.” She walked Helen and Daniel through setting up a personal Facebook account enabling them to interact on the Cupcake Lovers Fan Page. She adjusted their privacy settings. “Then you go here and—”
“Comment,” Daniel said. “Thank you, Harper. I think I have it.”
“Me, too,” Helen said with a thousand-watt smile.
“I’m sure you do.” Harper’s heart bumped against her ribs as she watched the senior couple post their first comment. She’d never known her own grandparents. Would they have embraced technology as eagerly as the Coles? What about her parents? Did either one of them visit Harper’s social feeds in order to catch up on her life? It’s not like they ever called. Her gaze skipped to Sam, who’d been circulating among his relatives and friends, mingling amiably in his subdued way. According to Daisy, although he’d lost both of his parents, he’d grown up surrounded by skads of aunts and uncles and cousins. He also had a brother presently serving in the military. Harper had grown up with her parents, period, although they’d never been what she’d call a family. Not like the Waltons or Bradys or the Monroes and their extended clan.
Feeling self-conscious now, she reached in her purse for her iPad, planning to find a corner where she could hide with her tablet and network with focused fury.
Rocky snagged her arm and attention. “Nice of you to help Helen and Dan like that.”
Harper shrugged. “Sometimes I forget the entire world isn’t as hooked up as me.”
“Speaking of hooked up. You and Sam—”
“You’re wondering why we arrived together.”
“I’m thrilled that you’re involved.”
“Who said—”
“Hollywood has nothing on Sugar Creek when it comes to gossip,” Rocky said.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I’d ask how serious it is,” Rocky said in a low voice, “except this is Sam, who doesn’t do casual. Plus he invited you to Sunday dinner.”
“Which is at your house,” Harper said. “He should have checked with you first.”
“We’re not that formal. Speaking of…” Rocky, who was also dressed in jeans and a tee, motioned to Harper’s casual attire. “I see you’re finally relaxing into country living. I didn’t even know you owned a pair of jeans.”
Still gripping her iPad, Harper shifted her weight, anxious to check on the cybercelebration. Feeds like Twitter moved at lightning speed. “I didn’t expect to be working today. Not in public, anyway.”
“We really appreciate this,” Rocky said while checking her own social apps. “Because of this cybercelebration, in the last ten minutes alone, I’ve seen a lift in sales for the recipe book. Not only that, people are sharing the links to our favorite charities and urging friends to match their pledges. You do so much for us, Harper, and we barely pay you a dime.”
“You’re a nonprofit organization.”
“Still … Daisy told me you parted ways with Spin Twin Cities and now you’ll be freelancing. I hop
e you have other clients lined up aside from us. Otherwise you’ll starve.”
“I’ll be fine.” She didn’t want to get into her real motivation for supporting the Cupcake Lovers and was looking to redirect the conversation when Rae stepped in.
“Did you see some of these name suggestions?” the soft-spoken heiress asked while scrolling down her phone. “Sugar or Maple if it’s a girl. Jago or Oakley if a boy? I blame it on the celebrities who made it trendy by naming their children after fruit and months of the year. No offense, Harper.”
“None taken. I didn’t have a hand in naming those babies.” Or any baby for that matter. None of her clients had had children under her watch. Drug issues, alcohol issues, extramarital issues, yes. Babies, no.
“Have you and Luke decided on a name yet?” Rocky asked.
Rae, who was close to six months pregnant and looking stylish as ever in a cute sundress and wedge-heeled sandals, smiled at her sister-in-law. “You asked me that last night. The answer is still no,” she said with a teasing smile. “But we’ve narrowed it down. I can tell you it won’t be Peaches or December.”
Rocky laughed. “Well, at least with you, I know to shop for a girl. Do you know how frustrating it’s been not being able to shop gender-specific for Dev and Chloe’s baby?”
“They wanted to be surprised,” Rae said. “I think it’s sweet. Speaking of sweet…”
She trailed off and in the lingering silence Harper looked up from her iPad, mid-text. Rae and Rocky were both smiling at her. “What?”
“Luke told me Sam got awfully cozy with you during lunch. I thought maybe he was exaggerating. But I keep seeing Sam stealing peeks at you and…” She smiled even bigger. “He’s totally smitten with you, Harper.”
“Tough guys like Sam don’t do smitten,” Harper said.
“Okay,” Rocky said. “He’s hot for you.”
“I think there’s more to it than that,” Rae said.
“It’s a physical thing,” Harper gritted out in a near whisper. “Just sex.”
Rocky smiled.
Rae blinked. “Really? How long has that been going on?”
“A while. Here and there. Off and on.” She didn’t intend to share details, but Harper was determined to squelch the illusion of love. Entirely for her own benefit. Love would muck up everything. “It’s not a big deal.”
“He invited you to Sunday dinner,” said Rae.
“You left your job in L.A.,” said Rocky.
“You did?” Rae asked.
“Booted out is more like it,” Harper said, “but the result is the same.”
“So you’ll be staying on permanently in Sugar Creek?” Rae asked.
“That’s the plan,” Harper said, glancing at Sam who was now talking to Luke. She was starting to feel incredibly guilty about this marriage of convenience. She knew Sam’s family and friends were anxious for him to find true happiness and new love and Harper was marrying him for a freaking green card. “Excuse me,” she said, anxious to escape. “I need to catch up on some of these posts.”
She spied a corner, but she also spied a television mounted close by. A senior couple was staring up at the screen, shaking their heads.
“What is it?” Harper asked as she moved closer.
“A young man opened fire in a terminal at O’Hare in Chicago,” the man said.
“Apparently he had a bone to pick with TSA, but he shot at anyone in uniform,” the woman said. “It’s just awful.”
“A few minutes ago, they mentioned a school shooting in Montana,” the man said. “What’s this world coming to?”
Harper stared at the screen. Aerial shots of the airport. B-roll of the terminal. Interview with a cop. Her mind filled in the blanks. Panicked innocents running for cover. Victims covered in blood.
“I’m Spike Martini,” the man said. “This is my wife, Rose.”
“I’m one of Daisy’s sisters,” she said. “Dev’s great-aunt. And you are?”
Stunned spitless.
An airport shooting. A school shooting. Why not a hospital shooting? What if a grief-stricken man who’d lost his son or daughter or wife to a botched surgery burst through the doors of Pixley General, guns blazing? What if he took out the Cupcake Lovers and all of Sam’s family and …
Sam.
Harper felt his calming presence, his hand on her shoulder. “Aunt Rose, Uncle Spike,” he said. “I see you’ve met Harper.”
“Not officially,” Spike said.
She realized then that she’d neglected to answer their question. Her brain had latched on to the shooting. Another shooting. She couldn’t tear her gaze from the screen. How many people had died? What were the shooter’s motives? Did someone try to talk him down before he turned the gun on himself?
“Harper’s the publicist for the Cupcake Lovers,” Sam continued. “Mind if I borrow her for a moment?” He palmed the small of her back. “Come on, hon.”
She was mortified. Because she’d frozen. Because she was trembling. She saw the look of concern on Spike’s and Rose’s faces. And when Sam guided her out of the room, she saw everyone watching. Dammit.
Once in the hall, Sam cupped the sides of her face and looked into her eyes. “Let it go.”
She nodded, even though a dozen what ifs clogged her brain.
“How’s the cybercelebration going?”
“What?”
He nodded to the iPad clutched tight against her chest.
She blinked out of her daze, opened her Facebook page. She skimmed the happy posts, the smiley faces, the new pledges. “Good. It’s good.”
One arm around her waist, Sam angled in. “Show me how that works.”
She swallowed hard, corralled her senses.
Luke stepped out of the waiting room. “Everything okay?”
“We’re good,” Sam said.
But then Dev, a renowned control freak, blew in out of nowhere, looking uncharacteristically harried. He stopped short of the waiting room, jammed a hand through his dark hair. “Exactly who I wanted to see. Thank you, Jesus. Now I don’t have to go in and face everyone.”
Harper’s stomach knotted.
“What’s wrong?” Luke asked.
“Chloe wants to get married. Now.”
“Whoa.”
“It’ll be short and sweet and extremely private. Hospital policy limits visitors and they’re balking on raising quantity even by one person.”
“No wonder you don’t want to brave the waiting room,” Luke said. “The only thing we’ve all been anticipating as much as your baby is your wedding.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” Dev said, “but right now I’m most concerned with making my girl happy.”
“How can we help?” Sam asked.
“Gram and Vincent are grabbing the preacher,” Dev said. “Luke, I need you to distract Chloe’s dad. He’s driving me nuts. You know Roger. He likes you. I left him in the café. Go do your thing, and when the preacher arrives, I’ll give a shout. I can swing Roger and Mom and Dad in the room, but that’s about it.”
“Understood.” Luke rapped his brother on the shoulder then took off.
Dev turned to Sam. “You know the armoire you made me? Master bedroom. Bottom left drawer. Marriage license. Rings.”
“Even if I race the back roads, we’re talking forty-five minutes, Dev.”
“The longer you stand here—”
“Got it.” Sam snagged the house key from Dev’s hand then looked to Harper. “Ready?”
He didn’t want to leave her. She could see it in his eyes. He was worried she’d have a meltdown. She wouldn’t. She was past that now. As long as she stayed away from the TV and resisted Googling airport shooting.
“Hold on.” Dev glanced from Harper to the waiting room then back. “Is that an iPad? It has a camera, right?”
Harper nodded. “Yes. Why?”
“You’re coming with me.” He turned to Sam. “Why are you still here?”
Against her better judgment, Harper p
lanted a peck on Sam’s cheek. “See you when you get back, Rambo.”
Before she could step back, he palmed the back of her neck and kissed her full on the mouth. Then he was gone.
Dev grasped Harper’s elbow and hurried her toward the elevator. “That was interesting.”
“You have no idea.”
NINETEEN
“Chloe have the baby?”
“Not yet,” Luke said. “But I do have news.”
Adam switched his android to speakerphone and balanced it on the sink’s vanity. The last thing he needed was to drop it in the john. “All ears.”
“Dev and Chloe got married.”
“What, for real?”
“Like ten minutes ago. In her hospital room. Took all of four minutes. If that. Chloe had a contraction and Dev told the preacher to hurry. Mom and Dad and Chloe’s dad witnessed. Dev sat on the bed next to Chloe and they both palmed her belly, as if holding their baby as they said the vows. It was freaking emotional. Crazy, considering the venue.”
“Thought you weren’t in the room,” Adam said.
“I wasn’t. But thanks to the Cupcake Lover’s publicist, several family members got to watch on their androids via something called Skype.”
“I know Skype,” Adam said as he dropped to his knees and snapped on a pair of latex gloves. “Unlike you, I’m not a Luddite.”
“I’m working past that,” Luke said. “Anyway Rae and Rocky got all teary so they slipped into the bathroom to fix their faces. Jayce is speaking with Dev and I’m taking a breather, trying to get my head past this delivery thing. Chloe’s been in labor for hours and it doesn’t look like the baby’s coming any time soon. They might have to schedule a Cesarean.”
“Not necessarily a cause for worry, right?”
“No. So the doctors and everyone say. But how would you feel if it were your wife and baby?”
“Not sure,” Adam said honestly as he doused the bowl in blue. At the rate he was going, he wasn’t sure that day would ever come. “If you’re worried about Chloe facing complications—”
“Of course I’m worried. And if I’m worried, imagine how my brother must feel. Just the thought of Rae—”