GRACIE STOOD in front of her schedule and wondered how long it would be until it all hit the fan. While she wanted to believe that Neda Jackson would simply keep the news to herself, Gracie knew her luck wasn’t that good. If Neda couldn’t write her article for the bridal magazine, she would be out some serious money. Which meant the reporter would have to make up the money elsewhere. As tabloids had a reputation of paying big for a scandal, Gracie had a feeling that was where Neda would go.
But how long would it take? Gracie didn’t know anything about the world of weekly publishing. Was it days? Weeks? When would it hit?
Not that it mattered. She still had cakes to bake and decorate. Since the debacle with the cake mixes, she hadn’t been back at Pam’s place. Somehow she couldn’t shake the feeling that the other woman was involved and until Gracie figured out how to prove it, she didn’t want to confront her.
A car pulled up in her driveway. Since reconciling with her mother, Gracie felt less worried about visitors. With luck, she would really like this one.
She hurried to the front door and smiled when she saw a familiar Mercedes next to her car and a handsome man walking toward her.
“Don’t you have a bank to run?” she asked, trying to ignore the fluttering she felt inside. Liking Riley was one thing, but really liking Riley could be a big mistake.
“I have a staff,” he said as he approached, then bent down to lightly kiss her. “It’s one of the perks of being the boss.”
“A staff, huh? I might have to get me one.” She stepped back to let him in, then led the way to the kitchen. “What’s up?”
He moved close and put his hands on her shoulders. “I have good news about Zeke. He’s not having an affair. Not even close.”
She’d been expecting him to say about a thousand other things. “What? You talked to Zeke?”
“I can’t solve your really big problems, but I knew I could take care of this one.”
Which was really sweet, she thought happily. “Okay, what’s he doing on his nights when he disappears.”
“Brace yourself.”
Riley was touching her. The only thing she really wanted to do was get closer and purr like a well-fed cat.
“I’m braced.”
“He’s doing stand-up.”
Gracie stared at him. “Excuse me?”
“That was my reaction. Apparently Zeke has always dreamed about being a stand-up comedian. Then he met Alexis and fell in love. He put the idea aside, but lately it’s been bugging him. He doesn’t want to live his whole life with regrets, so he’s trying to make it now.”
Stand-up? “I never thought of Zeke as that funny. Why didn’t he tell Alexis?”
“Beats the hell out of me. Part of it is they’re talking about starting a family and he didn’t think quitting his job would make her feel secure. He’s been going to clubs in Santa Barbara and L.A. working on his act. A couple of weeks ago, some guys from Leno saw him, so he’s been waiting for a phone call.”
Gracie couldn’t believe it. Not only that her brother-in-law’s secret life was something she never would have thought of but that he and Alexis were thinking of having a baby. There was a lot of pre-pregnancy going around these days.
“Is he going to tell Alexis?” she asked.
“I convinced him that was the best plan.”
“Do I want to know how this convincing took place?”
Riley looked pleased with himself. “I threatened him.”
“With physical violence?”
“Oh, yeah.”
She chuckled. “Was it good for you?”
“The best. I haven’t been in a fight in years, but I was willing to take him on. Zeke never was a real physical guy. He backed down right away.”
“I’m so proud of both of you.” She stepped closer to Riley and he wrapped his arms around her. “One problem down, fifty million to go.”
“Is that how it feels?” he asked as he stroked her back.
“Every minute of every day.”
“So we’ll tackle the next one. Pam and the cake boxes.”
She didn’t want to think about that. “Why would Pam be involved?”
“Not a clue, but she makes sense as a suspect. We just have to figure out what’s going on with her.”
Gracie winced and thought longingly of an antacid. “Tell me we’re not going to watch her house.”
Riley stepped back and grinned. “I’ll be here at eight. Dress in black. Oh, and bring your camera.”
WHEN RILEY LEFT, Gracie went to work on baking. As she had to turn the pans every ten minutes, the job was far more labor intensive than it should have been. She’d just pulled layer one from the oven when her cell phone rang. She grabbed it and pushed the talk button.
“This is Gracie.”
“How could you?” Fury filled the unfamiliar female voice. “I can’t tell you how horrible I think you are. Bitch doesn’t even come close.”
“What?” Gracie blinked. “Who is this? I think you have the wrong number.”
“Oh, you wish. I hate you. I’ll never forgive you. And dammit, I want my deposit back right now. How dare you pass yourself off as a professional? You’re a hack. You’re a liar. My father’s a lawyer and I’m going to talk to him about suing you for…for I don’t know what, but something. You’re disgusting.”
Gracie’s stomach turned over as the room seemed to get very, very cold.
“Who am I speaking with?” she asked as calmly as she could.
“Sheila Morgan. You’re supposed to be making my wedding cake next month. You lied, Gracie. You lied about everything. Now I have to find someone else. I hope you rot in hell. Oh, I’m so mad, I can’t think of bad enough things to say to you.”
The phone call ended abruptly. Gracie pushed the end button and stared at her phone. Then she turned it off.
Twenty minutes later she stood beside the checkout line of the local grocery store. The weekly tabloids were still stacked together, tied in bundles. She scanned the headlines of the first two before seeing the teaser on the third.
Wedding Cake Planner To The Stars Stirs Things Up With Bad Baking.
Next to the headline was a crumpled box of cake mix.
She pulled the tabloid out and flipped through it until she found the article. It wasn’t very big, maybe half a page, but there was a picture of her car filled with cake mix boxes and another shot of herself looking more than a little upset.
The text damned with innuendo. No one came out and said she used the cake mix, but the way it was written, no one had to.
By six, eighty percent of her cakes had been canceled. She’d been on some of the bridal Internet bulletin boards and had seen the angry posts there. Even the editor of the bridal magazine that had commissioned the story in the first place had called to yell at her.
Gracie lay curled up in bed, staring at her cell phone. Every time she turned it on, there were more messages from brides canceling their orders. They were all furious and she had no idea how to tell them she’d been the one betrayed, not them.
This couldn’t be happening, she told herself. It was a really, really bad dream. She’d worked so hard for so long to build up her reputation and now it was gone. Just like that. No one cared about how many nights she’d stayed up making sure each cake was perfect. No one wanted to hear the truth.
The room got dark and she told herself she had to get up and do something, but she didn’t have the energy. Instead she pulled the pillow over her head and willed the world to go away.
Sometime later she heard pounding on her front door. She ignored it, even as she remembered she and Riley were supposed to go watch Pam’s house. What did it matter if Pam had done this to her? The damage was irreparable. Gracie’s career was ruined.
After a few minutes, the pounding went away. Gracie dropped the pillow onto the other side of the bed and stared at the ceiling. Shadows filled the room. In the distance, she heard a door open, then footsteps.
Under normal circumstances, she would have imagined the worst-robbers or aliens or something-but right now she didn’t care.
“Gracie?”
Riley’s voice. The man didn’t give up.
“In here,” she called, her voice low and thick with pain. Everything hurt.
A light clicked on in the hallway. Seconds later he appeared in her room.
“What happened? Are you sick?”
“I wish. At least I could get better. Or die. Either way the problem would be solved.”
He sat on the edge of the mattress and brushed the hair out of her face. “Tell me what’s going on?”
She picked up the cell phone and pushed the buttons to replay the messages, then handed it to him.
He listened for a few minutes. When he turned off the phone, she found herself fighting tears.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” she said. “If I had, I could accept what they’re doing. But I didn’t, and no one will listen. My business is all about reputation. Now it’s gone. I get to keep the two cakes for this weekend because it’s too late for the brides to find someone else. Just about everyone else has canceled, except for the stupid sheet cake the historical society wants me to do and I’m sure the only reason they haven’t canceled is that I’m doing it for free.”
She saw anger tighten his expression. He bent down and kissed her.
“We’ll fix this,” he promised.
“Not to make trouble, but how?”
“We’ll figure something out. We’re a great team. Come on. We’re going to go stalk Pam. I’ve already got my detective working on learning everything we can about her. There are secrets in her past and we’re going to find them. In the meantime, let’s go get some incriminating pictures.”
Gracie shook her head. “You go.”
“Not without you.”
He grabbed her arms and pulled her into a sitting position, then he crouched in front of her.
“Come on, Gracie. Let’s go ruin Pam. It will be fun.”
The urge to simply curl back up in bed nearly overwhelmed her. She would have given in except she had the thought that if she did, she might never get up again, and that couldn’t be good.
“Okay. Give me a second to get changed.”
She stood and walked to her closet. The clothing choices seemed overwhelming. Riley moved next to her then reached inside for a pair of black jeans and a dark purple T-shirt.
“Very fashion forward,” he said, draping the clothes over her arm and pushing her toward the bathroom. “You have three minutes to get changed.”
“Where did you ever hear an expression like ‘fashion forward’?”
He grinned. “Are you kidding? The style network is really big on the oil rig. All those half-naked models draw us in, but the runway news keeps us riveted.”
She smiled, which felt weird, but nice. “I’ll be right out.”
Ten minutes later they were in his car and heading across town in the rapidly dwindling twilight.
She stared out the windshield and tried to keep her sighing to a minimum.
“You don’t have time for this,” she told him. “The election is in a couple of weeks.”
“I’ve got it covered. I’ll start going door-to-door in a day or two.”
“Are you behind in the polls?”
“I’m holding my own.”
She looked at him. “Tell me the truth.”
“I’m-”
“Riley, I’m not a baby. I can handle it. What are the numbers?”
“Still falling.”
How much of that was her fault? If she hadn’t come back to Los Lobos, none of this would have happened.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “About all of it.”
“I’m sorry about the cake disaster, but not the rest of it.”
“What? Are you crazy? You could lose. Have you considered that? It’s ninety-seven million dollars.”
“I won’t lose.”
“But if you do. And what if I’m pregnant?”
That seemed to get his attention. “Are you?”
She slumped down in the seat. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. I can take the pregnancy test in three days. But what if I am?”
“We’ll deal with it.”
He spoke calmly, which wasn’t what she expected. In his position, she had a feeling she would be both furious and screaming. But after the day she’d had, she appreciated the lack of dramatics.
“I’ll try not to be pregnant,” she said.
“I don’t think it works that way.”
He drove down a street she thought she recognized, then parked behind a minivan.
“Pam’s house is over there,” he said, pointing to a house on the corner. “We’ll walk the rest of the way.”
“Shouldn’t one of us be humming the theme from Mission Impossible?” she asked as she climbed out of his Mercedes.
“Only if it’s important to you.”
“I guess not.”
She followed down the sidewalk. Streetlights illuminated much of the area, but there were still puddles of darkness to hide in.
When Riley ducked into a side yard, she followed. They made their way into the backyard and crouched by some bushes.
“She didn’t close her blinds,” he whispered.
“She probably didn’t expect to be spied on. It’s not something I think about either. Although given what’s happening in my life, I guess I should.”
“There,” he said, pointing.
Gracie strained to see in the window. Pam stood in the kitchen, pouring something from a large bowl into a-
“That bitch has my baking pans!”
The loud words filled the silence of the night. Even as Riley grabbed her and pulled her down next to him, she slapped both hands over her mouth.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
“I know.” He spoke the words directly into her ear.
The soft sound was distracting enough, but when combined with the heat of his breath and the way his strong arms supported her, she started to go all gooey inside.
This was neither the time nor the place, she reminded herself as she dropped to her knees and shoved her hands into her pockets.
“She has my baking pans.”
“I gathered that.”
“Why would she take my baking pans?”
“Not a clue.”
Gracie considered the possibilities. “To make her own cakes? But why?” She rose up slightly so she could see in the window again. Pam bent over the oven, positioning the cake.
“The rack’s too high,” she murmured. “The edges are going to burn. If she was planning to steal my business, she should have asked more questions.”
She turned to him. “Is that it? Is Pam going to steal my business?”
“Why would she want to? She seems to have enough money of her own.”
“You’re right. Someone is paying for very expensive clothing,” Gracie said. “And there’s the bed-and-breakfast. That wasn’t cheap. Okay, now I’m completely confused. What is she doing?”
They stayed out in the bushes for nearly two hours in an attempt to find out. The only thing they discovered was that Pam was a really bad baker. Gracie felt some small measure of satisfaction when the cake turned out lopsided and burned on the edges. The pleasure peaked when Pam attempted to remove the cake from the pan and only about sixty percent of it fell onto the cooling rack.
“It was a complete disaster,” Gracie said cheerfully as they headed back to the car. “My first cake was much better than that and I think I was all of ten when I made it. I guess I don’t have to sweat her stealing my clients anytime…”
Her voice trailed off as she realized she didn’t have any clients to steal.
“We’ll figure it out,” Riley said as he put an arm around her and drew her close. “We’ll watch her for as many nights as it takes.”
“Good thing sweeps month is over on television and there’s nothing to watch.”
He looked at her and raised his eyebrows. “You would rather watch television than spy on Pam with me?”
She smiled. “Never! Did I say that? Absolutely not. You sure know how to show a girl a good time.”
THE NEXT two nights of spying produced similar results. Pam baked. Badly, Gracie thought with some measure of satisfaction. Pam also didn’t take good care of the pans, which were getting dark and scratched, but that was the least of Gracie’s problems.
But on the third night there wasn’t a cooling rack in sight. Pam barely came into the kitchen and when she did it was to pop a cookie sheet of store-bought appetizers into the oven and pull a bottle of white wine out of the refrigerator.
“Company,” Riley said with satisfaction. “Let’s see who Pam hangs out with these days. Maybe we’ll get some answers there.”
“The only possibly interesting person could be the mayor,” Gracie whispered. “And it can’t be him. She thinks he’s just as creepy as everyone else.”
“Are you sure?”
Gracie realized she wasn’t sure about anything except that she was getting a cramp in her leg.
“We’ll go around to the side yard,” Riley said. “We’ll be able to see who’s arriving.”
Gracie followed him, making sure to stay low. When they were in position in the side yard, she fumbled with her camera. Might as well get a picture of Pam’s visitor.
A car drove down the street. Gracie rose so she could brace herself against a small tree. She raised her camera to her face and squinted to see out the tiny viewer. The car got closer.
“Come on, big guy,” she murmured.
Riley chuckled. “Big guy?”
“Just an expression.”
“Okay. The car’s pulling in.”
She wasn’t sure what happened next. Maybe it was wet grass or leaves. Maybe it was just being clumsy. Maybe it was fate. Whatever the cause, just as she prepared to snap the picture of Pam’s visitor, Gracie’s foot slipped. She found herself sliding and falling. As she instinctively reached out to grab something, she squeezed the button on the camera. The flash exploded in the darkness. The tired mechanism pushed out a picture and whoever was in the car backed up and sped away.
“Come on.”
Riley grabbed her free hand and dragged her out of the yard and toward their car. Lights popped on in Pam’s house. The front door opened.
“Who’s out there?” Pam yelled. “What’s going on?”
Gracie threw herself into Riley’s car and ducked down below the dashboard.
“Drive. Drive!” she insisted.
“I’m driving.”
He started the engine and made a U-turn. It was only when they were a couple of blocks away that he turned on the lights. Gracie slowly straightened.
“I’m sorry,” she said, afraid to look at him and see how mad he was. “I didn’t do that on purpose.”
A strange sound made her stiffen. Was he…laughing?
She turned her head and stared at him. “What is so funny?”
“You,” he said with a chuckle. “I know you didn’t do that on purpose. I watched you start to slide, but I was too far away to prevent it. You were like a cartoon or something. Slow at first, then faster and faster.” He glanced at her. “I’ll give you this, Gracie. You’re never boring.”
“Great. You can put that on my tombstone. In the meantime, we still don’t know what Pam’s up to or who she’s hanging out with. Did you see the car?”
“No. It was too dark to figure out make or model.”
Gracie pulled the covering off the picture and stared at a section of Pam’s roof and a bunch of darkness she figured had to be the sky.
“If I don’t get my baking career back, I’ll never make it as a photographer.”
“You’ll get your baking business back.”
“How do you know?”
“Because we’re going to solve this mystery, and then whoever did it will make it right. Even if I have to stand over him or her and physically force them.”
She liked the sound of that. “You can be so sweet.”
“Because I’m willing to beat people up for you?”
“Yeah. It’s great.”
He reached over and touched her cheek. “You need to rethink your standards.”
“Not even a little.” She turned her head so she could press her mouth to his palm. “Want to sleep over?”
“Absolutely.”
She liked that he didn’t even have to think about it.
“You’re a good man, Riley Whitefield.”
“I’m a bastard. You can’t see it.”
“I don’t think so.”
Sure, he had his flaws, but who didn’t? The important thing was he’d been there for her, almost from the beginning, and this despite their rather odd and scary past. He’d obviously gotten over her being stalker girl. He was protective, caring, funny, smart and, when they made love, she touched a whole new dimension because of him. He made her feel safe. He made her feel sparks.
She watched him as they drove back to her place. After he parked in the driveway next to her car, he leaned over and kissed her. As she wrapped her arms around him and held on tight, she wondered if it was the least bit possible that she might very well have picked the man of her dreams at the tender age of fourteen.