Better Than Chocolate Part 29

Mr. Dreamy was duly crowned and the two runners-up, Enrico Vargas, one of Icicle Falls' finest, and Brandon Wallace, ski b.u.m, each received a free month at Bruisers Fitness Center-rather a joke, considering the fact that both men were already members. The contest over, attendees and contestants mingled and slowly drifted out of the hall to take the party over to Zelda's or Italian Alps Pizza. Or, in the case of many of the couples, somewhere more private.

"I'd say this is definitely going to become a yearly tradition," Ca.s.s said, complimenting Samantha.

"We just might make it one," Samantha agreed. If everything else turned out to be as successful and as popular this weekend, she was going to be a happy woman.

"Anybody want to go get pizza?" Ca.s.s asked.

"Yes," Cecily said. "I'm starving."

What else was new? How her sister kept from weighing two hundred pounds was a mystery to Samantha.

"Are you up for getting some pizza?" Cecily asked Mom.

"I don't think so. You girls go on and have a good time."

Mom's smile was looking strained now. How silly this must all seem after grappling with death and loss.

"You sure?" Ca.s.s asked.

"Yes, I'm sure," Mom said. "I'll see you later." She kissed her daughters and gave Ca.s.s a hug, then slipped past the remaining celebrants and out the door.

The three women stood watching her. "It can't be easy, what she's going through," Ca.s.s said sadly. "Divorce, death, somehow we always end up alone."

"Not always." Cecily frowned. "You shouldn't close yourself off. I've got a feeling-"

Ca.s.s held up a hand. "Oh, no. I've heard about your feelings. I'll pa.s.s, thanks."

Cecily made a face and Samantha couldn't help chuckling. "You're not in the business anymore, remember?"

"Yes, and now I remember why," Cecily said. "I'll go get Bailey."

"Good idea." Bailey was talking with a couple of women but Brandon Wallace was moving toward her like a shark toward a pair of tempting legs dangling in the water. She was relieved to see Cecily sweep their little sister away. Safe from Jaws, for the moment, anyway.

The pizza place was already filling up when they arrived. The aroma of garlic and oregano and tomato sauce that greeted Samantha had her taste buds clamoring for instant gratification. She distracted herself by looking around to see who was there. She waved at a few people she knew while waiting to place her order, then began threading her way through the crowd to their table. She was halfway there when she realized who was at the table next to theirs.

Oh, come on. Yes, Icicle Falls was a small town but really, did she have to keep running into Blake the Snake everywhere she went?

Chapter Twenty-Two.

A woman can go through life just fine denying some things (like the fact that she's aging or that she's gained weight), but she won't have a life worth living if she denies love.

-Muriel Sterling, Knowing Who You Are: One Woman's Journey Why hadn't she seen Blake when she first came in? Then she could have gone right back out. I'll just walk past and pretend I don't see him, Samantha decided. Which was, of course, ridiculous since she'd have to be blind not to. There he sat, big as life, sharing a pizza with Jimmy Robinson, the produce manager from Safeway, and Tennessee transplant Bubba Sw.a.n.k, who owned Big Brats, a favorite lunch haunt of both locals and tourists.

Still, the last thing she wanted was to talk to him. She was almost at his table and picking up her pace, determined to speed right past, when he called her name. Okay, so she would be blind and deaf.

But was that smart business? This man's bank held the note on her company. It was in her best interests to remove her porcupine suit and play nice, something she should have done from the beginning. Ugh.

He stood politely, a wall of muscle hiding under jeans and a sweater. If he'd been up onstage in Festival Hall tonight, she'd have seen him without his s.h.i.+rt.

You don't care about seeing him out of his s.h.i.+rt, she reminded herself, you just want him out of your hair.

She said a well-mannered h.e.l.lo to his pals, wished all three of them bon appet.i.t and was ready to move on.

Before she could, Blake said, "I hear your contest was a success. Congratulations."

She donned a smile even Cecily the diplomat couldn't top. It wasn't an easy fit. "Thanks. I'm sure all our other events will do as well. We've already brought in a big chunk of money and I expect to make a lot more before the weekend is over."

It probably wouldn't be enough to pay off what they owed, but surely it would be enough to melt his hard heart and convince him and his evil boss to work with her. After all, wasn't that what business was about, people working together? Banks worked with Donald Trump all the time and he was the king of credit.

"I hope you make a fortune," Blake said.

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Do you? Really?"

"Of course. Believe me, I don't like the position we're in any more than you do."

"Well, that's comforting to know," she said, and moved away. Hypocrite.

"That looked like a fairly calm encounter," Cecily commented as she sat down at the table.

"It was," Samantha said. "I can be diplomatic." Sort of.

"I wouldn't mind having diplomatic relations with him," Ca.s.s said.

Cecily shook her head in mock disgust. "Dirty old woman."

Ca.s.s shrugged. "What can I say? Seeing all that beefcake tonight gave me an appet.i.te."

"I bet Cecily could find you someone," said Bailey, who'd missed their earlier conversation.

"I really don't want a someone," Ca.s.s said. "I already have enough aggravation just dealing with my ex-someone."

"But don't you get lonely?" Bailey asked. "Don't you ever feel the urge to merge?"

"Yes, but all I have to do to lose it is think about Mason," Ca.s.s replied.

The conversation turned in a new direction, but Samantha was still stuck on the corner of Urge and Merge. What would it be like to meet Blake Preston on that corner?

Oh, no. Not going there. Not now, not ever.

Downtown Icicle Falls on Sat.u.r.day was a mob scene, with people spilling out of shops and restaurants and perusing vendor booths. Children darted through the crowd, clutching elephant ears and cotton candy. Lots of people cl.u.s.tered around the Bavarian Brews booth, which was selling hot chocolate and doing a brisk business, and Ca.s.s's booth was selling out of cookie jewelry and cupcakes.

But Cecily was happy to see that the busiest booth of all was the Street Dreams one. Celebrants were lined up to purchase white-chocolate-dipped apples, chocolate mint candy bars and their little pink four-seater boxes of chocolate heaven. And of course, to meet Mr. Dreamy, who was posing for pictures, mostly with middle-aged women.

Joe appeared about as comfortable as a man buying tampons for his wife when one woman asked him to pretend he was feeding her a chocolate, but he obliged. Of course, that opened the floodgates of inspiration and soon Joe was kissing wrinkled cheeks and picking up women and posing like he was a caped superhero about to fly off with them while the cameras snapped.

Cecily watched him struggle to lift one portly customer. Poor Joe. She hoped he didn't get a hernia. And if he did, she hoped he wouldn't send the medical bills to Sweet Dreams. Samantha would kill her.

Samantha didn't look ready to kill anybody today, though. She was smiling, chatting up the customers as she took their money.

She and Bailey were running the booth for the morning s.h.i.+ft, along with Elena, who had offered to pitch in. Cecily and Mom would take over in the afternoon while Bailey took charge of the chocolate tea at Olivia's B and B. Then, that evening, they'd all be at the chocolate dinner and ball.

Samantha had seen her now and waved, and Cecily went to the side of the booth to check in.

"How does the hall look?" Samantha asked.

"Gorgeous, I can hardly imagine how stunning it's going to be once all the candles are lit."

"So it's all done?"

"Almost. Mom's gone home and I just left Kevin putting the final touches on the centerpieces."

"Great."

Bailey handed white-chocolate apples to two teenage girls. "Enjoy," she told them. They didn't waste time replying, just bit into their apples and wandered off. "Awesome, isn't it?" she said to Cecily, indicating the milling crowd.

Cecily nodded. "I'd say we've got a hit on our hands."

"We're going to need more apples," Bailey said.

"I can't believe we're almost out. Guess we should've doubled production on those yesterday." Samantha looked speculatively at Cecily and Cecily knew what was coming. "Can you get some more apples and run over to the kitchen and make another three dozen?"

Cecily had hoped to take a few minutes to check out the booths before coming on duty, but she nodded and said, "No problem." This was an all-hands-on-deck weekend, after all.

"I can help," said a deep voice behind her.

She turned to see Luke Goodman standing there with his daughter. Little Serena was bundled up in leggings and a skirt topped with a pink parka with faux-fur trim. She looked like a cross between a snow baby and the Sugar Plum Fairy. In short, she looked adorable. Her dad didn't look so bad himself in his jeans, flannel s.h.i.+rt and winter jacket.

"Hi," Cecily said. "Are you having fun?" she asked Serena.

The child nodded. "We're getting chocolate apples, and I'm going to a tea."

"That does sound like fun."

"And my daddy's going to a ball," Serena continued. "He's going to meet a princess."

Luke's cheeks turned russet. "You never know."

"Moonlight and magic," Cecily quipped.

"So would you like some help with those apples?" he asked.

Unlike her type-A older sister and high-energy baby sister, Cecily enjoyed stopping to breathe once in a while, and having some a.s.sistance in the Sweet Dreams kitchen would have been nice. But she didn't want to pull Luke away from his daughter, and she didn't want to give him the wrong idea that she was interested in being anything more than friends. Cozy kitchen time together could become a recipe for hurt feelings. Better to keep him at a distance.

"That's okay, thanks. I can manage," she said. "You guys have fun."

"Let's get our apples, Daddy," Serena said, tugging on his arm, the equivalent of a puppy trying to tow a mountain.

The mountain allowed himself to be moved but as he fished out his wallet he asked, "How about saving me a dance tonight?"

It would have been rude to refuse. "Okay," she said.

He was such a nice man. She should have been dying to dance with him. What was wrong with her?

She was still pondering the question when she walked into the Safeway produce department in search of Granny Smith apples. Surely if she gave him half a chance, Luke could hit her zing-o-meter. He was probably a wonderful kisser. He'd been married, after all, had a child, had to know what turned a woman on.

It had been way too long since anyone had turned her on.

A male arm reached right out of her imagination and around her, brus.h.i.+ng hers in the process and hitting the old zing-o-meter, sending it soaring. Whoa, what was that?

Todd Black!

"Need some apples." He held one up for her to see.

"You could have said something. I'd have moved." What was he doing here, intruding on her thoughts, playing with her zing-o-meter?

"I would have, but you were so intent on fondling the apples I hated to interrupt."

Okay, it was official now. Todd Black was the most irritating man in Icicle Falls. She began randomly s.n.a.t.c.hing apples and stuffing them in her produce bag. "Well, I'll hurry up and get out of the way. It's obvious you're anxious to have a turn."

"Oh, no. I can wait. I'm a big believer in ladies first."

"I doubt that," she retorted.

"A little cranky, are we?" he teased. "Is all the stress of the festival getting to you?"

"No." Naturally, that had to come out all snippy-sounding.

"You sure? 'Cause you look stressed. There's no stress over at my place and we'll be open all night."

"Well, thanks for the offer," she said, putting the apples in her cart, "but I'll be at the chocolate ball tonight."

"And anyone who's anyone will be there," he finished cynically.

"You could say that," she said pleasantly, refusing to rise to the bait.

"Well, Cinderella, don't lose anything," he said. He grabbed another apple and took a bite.

"You haven't paid for that," she pointed out.