NEDA JACKSON TURNED out to be a bright, attractive woman in her mid-twenties with fabulous braids hanging halfway down her back. Gracie eyed them and wondered if she could pull off a similar look.
“Good to meet you,” Neda said as she walked into Gracie’s rental house. “I’ve been doing my research and I have to tell you that all your brides are very happy with your cakes. One of them even invited me by after the wedding. Her mom had saved me a piece.” Neda’s dark brown eyes widened with pleasure. “Delicious. I love how the cake tasted, and I’m not a big cake eater. So what do you put in it?”
Gracie laughed. “Sorry. House secret. I played with various cake recipes for over a year until I perfected the one I use. It’s a white cake recipe that I modify for chocolate or yellow cake.”
“What are you working on now?” Neda asked.
“Staying sane. It’s the busy season. I have at least three cakes to make every week for the next eleven weeks. Then it drops off to just two cakes a week. Some of the designs are simple and only take twenty or thirty hours. Some take double that.”
“But you work alone, don’t you? There aren’t that many hours in a day.”
Gracie nodded. “Tell me about it. I save a lot of time by making the decorations in batches. A lot of them can be made in advance.”
“And you do it yourself. That’s so great. I have to tell you, I’ve met some wedding cake makers who really cut corners. As much as these cakes cost, that makes me crazy.”
Gracie led the way into the dining room where hundreds of leaves and individual flowers sat on stacked trays.
Neda moved close. “What are these? Plastic flowers you buy at a craft store.”
“No. I made them. They’re edible.”
“You’re kidding.” Neda moved close and stared. “They’re icing. Even the leaves. You made the leaves? You don’t buy those?”
“I make each one by hand.”
Gracie led her back into the kitchen where she had a two-layer shower cake on the counter.
“How do you get the frosting so smooth?” Neda asked. “It’s beautiful.”
“The cake is frosted in buttercream icing. Over that I’ve placed rolled fondant. That’s what makes it so smooth. The sides are decorated with little dots in two sizes.” Gracie showed her how to apply them. “Roses circle the base of the two layers.”
She picked up a premade rose and gently set it into place. “The process isn’t that difficult, but it’s time consuming.”
Neda laughed. “Not to mention that you have to be able to design the cake in the first place and make all the decorations.”
“It helps.”
“I could never do that.” She set her notepad on a kitchen chair then dug in her bag for her digital camera. “Okay, let me take some general pictures, then I want to shoot you decorating this cake.”
“Sure.”
Gracie worked on the shower cake while Neda circled her and took pictures. There was a partially assembled wedding cake on the other counter and Gracie worked on that as well. As Neda took photos, she asked questions.
“Why wedding cakes?”
“I like making them. I enjoy the challenge of coming up with a new design. I like being a part of a couple’s special day.”
“Any disasters?”
Gracie sighed. “Someone dropped the top layer once. The bride’s brother had picked up the cake, which was in six boxes. I was going to assemble it later. I received a frantic phone call that the top layer, including the blown-glass antique ornament, had been destroyed.”
Neda stared at her. “What did you do?”
Gracie slipped three more roses in place. “I was making another cake for the following day and they were about the same size. I put a new top layer in the oven for bride number two and quickly changed the frosting on the one I already had. We still didn’t have an ornament, so I put a call in to the florist. By the time I arrived at the reception location, she had delivered five dozen miniature roses in the bride’s colors.”
Gracie shivered at the memory. “It was a three-layer cake with pillars in between, so everything was visible. I had less than an hour to make it all work. I pretty much pulled off most of my decorations, to make the bottom two layers more plain, then I cut the rose stems off and piled the buds on each layer. I used leftover petals to dress up the table and tacked a few decorations on the top layer. No one ever knew, except the immediate family.”
“Talk about pressure,” Neda said.
“It got my heart racing.”
Neda took several more pictures, asked a couple more questions, then announced that the interview was finished.
“I’m so impressed,” the reporter said. “I love your work and I’m going to say that in my article.” Neda loaded up her bag. “I’m engaged. We’re thinking of a Christmas wedding. Do you still have room in your schedule for my cake?”
Gracie smiled. “Absolutely. Let me give you a card. You can call me in the next month or so and we can talk about what you’d like. Holiday wedding cakes can be so beautiful. All those jewel tones.”
“Good. Thanks. You’ve been terrific.”
“My pleasure.”
Gracie led her to the front door, then walked her out to her car. As they approached Neda’s Mustang, Gracie noticed a couple of boxes lying on the driveway next to her own car.
“What are those?” she asked as she moved closer.
When she caught sight of the familiar cake mix logo, she froze in place.
“What is it?” Neda asked.
Gracie couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. She could only stare at the two boxes that had obviously fallen out of her Subaru. No wonder, what with the back end of the vehicle being jam packed with what looked like hundreds of cake mix boxes.
“Are you kidding?” the reporter asked, sounding disgusted. “You use cake mix? That’s your secret ingredient?”
“No! These aren’t mine. You didn’t see them when you drove up. I haven’t used a cake mix since I was twelve. Someone did this.”
Neda shook her head. “Oh, sure. Someone knew I was coming and just happened to figure out when so they could plant this on you. Forget what I said about you making my wedding cake.”
Gracie picked up the boxes. They were full. “You have to believe me.”
“I don’t think so. You’re not special after all. I should have known.”
Neda opened her car door and tossed in her bag. When she turned around, Gracie saw the digital camera in her hand. Before Gracie could stop her, she’d already taken half a dozen pictures.
“Oh, and never mind about the article. We’re a reputable magazine,” Neda said as she climbed in her car. “I can’t believe you did this. Don’t you realize you’re spoiling people’s weddings? That’s so low. You seemed so nice, too, but I guess that was as much a lie as your cakes. You probably didn’t even make those decorations yourself. That’s why they were all stacked like that. You bought them somewhere.”
With that Neda slammed her door and sped away. Gracie stared after her. This couldn’t be happening, she told herself. It just couldn’t.
But it was, she thought as she stared at the cake box in her hand. Someone had set her up. And there was only one name she could think of:
Pam.
But even as she told herself no one else would bother, she honestly couldn’t think of a single reason as to why Pam would do this to her. The woman had been nothing but friendly and pleasant since Gracie moved back. She’d even rented out her kitchen.
Gracie fought tears as she dropped the boxes in the trash. Then she walked in the house, grabbed her purse, made sure the oven was off, then hurried to her car.
RILEY WRAPPED UP the meeting and walked back to his office. As he crossed in front of the elevators, they opened and Gracie stepped out. He took one look at her face and knew the worst-whatever that might be-had happened.
“What?” he asked as he put his arm around her and led her into his office. “Is someone hurt?”
She shook her head and gulped in a breath. “The cakes. I don’t understand how it happened. I told a few people, but no one knew when exactly. I think it’s Pam, but why? She’s been nice. It can’t be Jill, and I want to suspect my sisters but I never even told them. God forbid we talk about anything but them.”
He ushered her inside and closed the door. When they were alone and in private, he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her.
“Start at the beginning,” he said gently. “Tell me what happened.”
Instead, she began to cry. His first clue was the long silence. Then her body began to shake and finally he heard the soft sobs.
“I’m ruined,” she managed after a few minutes. “Completely ruined.”
“Not possible,” he said and kissed the top of her head. “What happened?”
Her answer was to cry harder. Riley had never been a fan of tears on a woman-they’d always seemed like a manipulation. But with Gracie, he felt differently. She didn’t want anything from him-except possibly for him to ease her pain.
She sniffed. “I need a tissue.”
He pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her.
She blotted her face, then turned from him and blew her nose.
“I’m not attractive when I cry. You should look away.”
He pulled her close again. “Right. Because I’m just in this because of how you look. Tell me what happened.”
“I had my interview with the bridal magazine person today.”
“Okay and then what?” He led her over to the sofa in the corner and tugged her down next to him. After angling toward her, he cupped her face. “I know you were charming and brilliant and you made a fan.”
Tears filled her blue eyes. “You’d think, wouldn’t you? She even asked me to bake her wedding cake. She’s getting married in December. But now…”
Her voice wavered and her shoulders slumped.
“Now, what?” he asked gently as he wiped her cheeks with his thumbs.
“She was leaving and I walked her outside. One of the things she wanted to talk about was the secret ingredient. I don’t tell anyone what I put in my cakes. I worked on the recipe forever and it’s really good.”
“I know. I’ve had your cake.”
She sniffed again. “There were boxes everywhere. Someone planted cake mix boxes in my car. They were spilled out onto the ground. She got mad. She took pictures and called me a liar and now I’m ruined.”
She covered her face and began to sob. He drew her close and settled her against his side.
The typical male side of him wanted to promise that everything would be all right, but he didn’t actually know that and he wasn’t about to pretend to Gracie. Her business survived on reputation and word-of-mouth. He knew what the mention in People had done for her career. If word got out that she was a fraud, clients could disappear overnight.
Frustration bubbled inside of him. He didn’t have a clue as to how to fix the problem and the need to do so burned hot and bright inside.
“Who would do this?” he asked. “Who would want to set you up? Are other cake decorators mad because you’re doing so well?”
She kept her head on his shoulder and wiped her face with the handkerchief. “I don’t know. We’re not exactly a close-knit group. No monthly meetings or any of that. I’ve met a few at wedding expos. They seemed nice enough. How would any of them know what I was doing or even where I was?”
“Who knew about the interview?”
“You, me, Jill. I’m sure she told Mac, but he would never do anything like this. And Pam.”
“Pam, my ex-wife?”
“Uh-huh. She was there when I got the call. She was really excited for me.”
“Yeah, right. Pam’s never been happy for anyone but herself in her entire life. Okay, she’s a prime suspect.”
Gracie straightened and looked at him. “I agree that of all the people who knew, Pam is the only one I don’t trust. But why would she do it? What does she care if I get a write-up in some bridal magazine? It’s a big deal with me, but not to anyone else. It’s not as if she has a rival bakery. My success, or lack of success, doesn’t impact her at all.”
“Good question. But there isn’t anyone else.”
“I know.” Gracie sighed. “I just don’t get it. Why? And what do I do now?”
“Do you want to confront Pam?”
“Not really. I want to crawl back home and have this never have happened. Can we do that?”
He stroked her hair. “Gracie, I know it’s horrible, but what’s the worst-case scenario? You don’t get the nice spread in the bridal magazine. You were doing well before-is not getting the notice going to be all that bad?”
She sat up and looked at him. “No, that’s not so bad. But I’m afraid that’s not the worst of it. I’ve made cakes for famous people-that makes me loosely linked to them. And there’s nothing anyone likes more than a scandal related to movie and television stars. If Neda just bad-mouths me at the magazine, I’ll be okay. But if she sells the story and the photos to a tabloid, then I’m completely and totally screwed.”
Pain darkened her eyes. Pain and a kind of hopelessness that made him want to lash out at someone-anyone, so long as it would make her feel better.
“What can I do?” he asked.
“Nothing. But I appreciate the thought.” She stood.
“You’ve been great, but I have to get going. There are more cakes to finish before my career flushes down the toilet.”
He rose. “You don’t know that will happen.”
She nodded. “Maybe I’ll get lucky, but I don’t think so.”
As he watched her leave, he tightened his hands into fists. There had to be something he could do, some way he could fix the problem. Or if not this problem, then another one. Because he had to do something. He couldn’t leave Gracie in that much pain.
GRACIE LOST HERSELF in work. Home seemed the safest place to be and with the worry that she could be trashed in some tabloid at any second, she desperately needed to work while she still could.
She avoided everyone, even Riley. She talked to Jill by phone, but didn’t mention the botched interview, and she stayed away from Pam and her bed-and-breakfast. Better to have to turn the pans every ten minutes than risk that encounter, she thought, still not sure why Pam would have done it.
Three days later, the world came calling in the form of someone knocking on her front door. She walked out to the small foyer and looked out the window.
“Just what I need,” she murmured as she saw her mother standing there. “Another emotional beating.”
But there was no way to hide, not with her car parked in the driveway, she so braced herself for the forthcoming lecture and opened the door.
“Hi, Mom,” she said with a cheerfulness she didn’t feel. “How’s it going?”
“Okay.” Her mother stepped into the house. “Not great.”
Gracie drew in a deep breath. “I’m sorry to hear that. Honestly, I didn’t come back here to make trouble, but that seems to be what’s happening. Apparently, there are forces at work I can’t control. In truth, while I appreciate your concern, I can’t handle one more lecture. I don’t want to talk about my relationship with Riley, my past, my issues or any of that.”
“That’s not why I’m here.”
“Okay.” Great. More wedding talk. Had Vivian’s plan of nakedness worked?
Gracie led the way into the small living room and motioned to the sofa. “You want anything?”
“No. I’m fine.”
Her mother settled on a sofa and waited until Gracie took a club chair before speaking.
“I’m sorry,” her mother said. “I’m more sorry than I can ever say. I’ve been a horrible mother and a worse person. I’m disgusted with myself.” Tears filled her eyes.
Gracie figured that was four-for-four on the Landon women sobbing in the past couple of weeks. It had to be a record.
“Mom, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I know.” More prepared than Gracie had been during her meltdown, her mother withdrew a small package of tissues from her purse. “I’ve tried to ignore it all, but I can’t. It’s just like it was all those years ago. I know what I did and I refuse to do it again. Those bitches can just go to hell.”
Gracie blinked. She wasn’t sure she’d ever heard her mother swear before. “I’m all in favor of bitches in hell. Really. But who are we talking about and what did they do?”
“It’s not them. It’s me.” Her mother drew in a deep breath. “Oh, Gracie, you were always such a bright, happy child. Then your father died and your world collapsed. You were his favorite.” She gave a shaky smile. “Parents aren’t supposed to have favorites, or if we do, we aren’t supposed to say, but everyone knew your father loved you best. And when he died, you were so lost.”
Gracie swallowed. She remembered her father. How he’d always made time for her, how they’d done things together. “I missed him a lot.”
“I know you did. I was worried, but I thought you’d be fine. Then that Riley boy moved in next door and you fixated on him. I knew it had to do with you losing your father and needing a man in your life. I thought it would blow over. But it didn’t.”
Gracie’s warm fuzzy feelings faded. “We’ve been over this, Mom.”
“I know. Here’s my point. Things got out of hand so quickly and soon everyone knew you had a crush on him. People talked. There were those stories in the paper. You became legend. A lot of people thought it was sweet, but some women around town weren’t so kind. You were so creative and they were cruel. They laughed at you and at me. I felt exposed and humiliated. As if I couldn’t control my own daughter. Every week there was a new Gracie story.”
Gracie felt her cheeks get hot. She’d never considered her actions from her mother’s point of view. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t be. You were young and it was your first crush. I should have been able to handle it. I should have told them you were my daughter and I would stand by you. Instead I tried to make you stop, which didn’t work. Then Pam turned up pregnant and there was the quickie wedding. I knew I had to get you out of town so nothing happened.”
Gracie nodded as she remembered the pain of being sent away.
“But it didn’t matter,” her mother continued. “At Pam and Riley’s wedding, you were all anyone talked about. They placed bets on whether or not you would show up. They recounted their favorite Gracie story and talked about how you loved that boy with your whole heart. Some people admired that, but others were less kind.”
Gracie winced. “I didn’t know that.”
“I’m not telling you now to be cruel, just to explain. The fault is mine. I didn’t think I could face the ridicule anymore. When my sister offered to take you, I let you go because I was selfish and weak. And I’m sorry.”
Her mother started to cry again. “I missed you so much. Every day I reached for the phone to tell you to come home. But then someone would say something and it all came back to me. In time the talk died down and it was such a relief to me. But on the inside I felt so guilty for being a coward. I let my so-called friends influence me and because of that, I lost a daughter.”
Gracie didn’t know what to think. She was numb. “You didn’t lose me.”
“Yes, I did. You and I aren’t close. You’re angry with me for what I did, and I deserve that. I have no excuse. I was spineless and foolish. I’m sorry, Gracie. I’m so sorry.” She pressed a hand to her mouth. “And I’m a bad mother because of my three girls, you’re the one who turned out the best. Vivian is spoiled and selfish and Alexis is a drama queen. I think I did that. I think it’s my fault.”
Gracie moved to the sofa and hugged her mother.
“It’s okay,” she said.
“No, it’s not. I lost you and I only have myself to blame. I’m so sorry.”
Gracie held on. “I’m sorry, too. I never meant to embarrass you.”
“That was me, not you. You were a little girl in a lot of pain. I should have seen that.”
Gracie supposed it was true, but she still felt self-conscious about it all. “Remind me to never have a crush on a guy again,” she said.
Her mother gave a strangled laugh. “I think you’re over all that now.”
Gracie pulled back and eyed her suspiciously. “That’s not what you were saying a couple of weeks ago.”
“True, but I know better now. If Riley Whitefield makes you happy, then you go on seeing him.” Gracie half expected the earth’s crust to open and gnomes in pointy hats to appear. “Really?”
Her mother nodded. “I don’t want to lose you again, Gracie. I know we can’t recover what’s lost, but I want us to try to be close again. I’m willing to be patient and earn your trust.”
Gracie felt her heart opening and stretching. “Oh, Mom. It’s okay.”
“It’s not now, but I want it to be.” They hugged again.
“What changed your mind?” Gracie asked.
“Alexis and Vivian were over the other night and I realized that part of our family was missing. I felt so sad, I couldn’t stop crying. I want us to be together again. I hope you can want that, too.”
Gracie nodded. It might take her a little while to shift her thinking, but she was willing to make the effort.
Her mother squeezed her tight, then let go. “All right, now that I’ve dumped all over you with my problems, how are you? How’s the cake business?”
“There are a few bumps in the road.”
“Like what?”
She hesitated for a second, not sure if she wanted to say anything, then drew in a deep breath.
“I had an interview with a reporter from a bride magazine a few days ago.”
“That’s great.”
“Not exactly.”
Gracie told her what had happened.
When she’d finished, her mother looked stunned. “Who on earth would have planted those cake boxes?”
“I haven’t a clue. No one really knew about the interview. Just me, Riley, Jill and Pam.”
Her mother’s lips curled. “Pam’s a bitch. How did you get messed up with her?”
Gracie couldn’t help laughing. “Talk about a snap judgment.”
Her mother dismissed the comment with a flick of her wrist. “I never liked Pam. No one does. She’s only out for herself. But why would she want to set you up?”
“That’s the question of the hour.”
“I’ll ask around,” her mother said. “Maybe someone has heard something. Too bad Vivian didn’t plan the wedding at Pam’s little B &B. I would enjoy constantly canceling and upsetting her plans.”
Gracie winced. “About the wedding…”
“Not your problem,” her mother said. “And except for making the phone calls, it’s not mine, either. I’m tired of running interference for Viv. She needs to grow up and accept the consequences of her actions.”
“Really?”
“Cross my heart.” Her mother hugged her again. “Any leftover cake?”
“Absolutely. Come on.”
RILEY READ through the detective’s report again. Nothing. No sign of a mystery reporter, no hint that the mayor was up to anything. Riley had even asked the man to keep tabs on Pam for a few days and so far she’d been a model citizen.
It was all frustrating, he thought as he drove through Los Lobos. He was no closer to figuring out what was going on than he had been before he’d hired the detective. Worse, he had no motive for anyone to set up Gracie.
As he couldn’t fix that problem, he’d decided to deal with another one. Which was why he parked in front of Zeke’s insurance office just before closing and strolled inside.
“Is he in?” Riley asked the woman at the front desk.
“Yes. May I say who’s…Oh. Mr. Whitefield. I’ll announce you.”
Riley gave her a quick smile. “Not necessary. I’ll find my way back.”
He walked down the short hallway and opened Zeke’s door without knocking.
Zeke looked up. “Hey, boss. What are you doing here?” He glanced at his calendar. “Did we have a meeting I missed?”
“Nope.” Riley walked to Zeke’s desk and perched on the corner. “Did you know that when I left Los Lobos I headed north?”
Zeke frowned. “No. Should I have?”
Riley shrugged. “Not really. I crewed on fishing boats in Alaska. It’s hard work. Long hours. I was a kid from a small town. I didn’t know shit about the world. But I learned fast. Got into a lot of fights with guys bigger and older. After getting the crap beat out of me, I learned to hold my own.”
Zeke shifted in his chair. “Probably not good campaign material.”
“But it’s interesting. Oil rigs are even worse. Confined quarters, a lot of independent men. When fights start there, they can go on for hours.”
“You want to beat up the mayor?”
“No. I was thinking more of taking you on.”
Zeke’s eyes widened. He scrambled to his feet. “Me? What did I do?”
“You’re keeping secrets and I gotta tell you, I don’t like it. They upset your wife, which doesn’t matter to me, but then she tells Gracie and Gracie gets upset. Gracie does matter. This whole mess with the pictures started because of you. I can’t solve the other problems in Gracie’s life, but I can solve this one. Where the hell are you going at night and what are you doing when you get there?”