Krista surveyed the pair with interest. So these were the fabulous Larkins whom Michael raved about, these saviors who had given Michael his first job in a Decadent Delights shop in Chicago, mentored him into his own shop.
Both man and wife were about five foot five, plump and speaking a bit too loud. Allan’s sandy hair was thinning on top. Norah’s hair was a traditional hairdresser’s cap of curls set in hairspray, colored a very pale yellow. Both appeared to be about fifty.
In a word, Krista would best describe them as robust.
In their favor, both were extremely well dressed, Allan in a black tuxedo and Norah in a slimming A-line dress of a heavy maroon jersey fabric that hung in elegant folds. Her emerald pendant and ring appeared to be quality jewelry.
“So this is Krista,” Norah was saying.
Krista was unaccustomed to being embraced at business functions and tried not to wince in surprise as Norah gathered her in her arms. “We are so pleased to meet you, dear. Michael is like a son to us. We were never able to have our own, you see.”
“Yes, congratulations,” Allan added heartily. “About time our boy settled down.”
“Now, Allan,” Norah half scolded, “it was best for him to wait for the real thing. After all, with the value of the shop in the balance and all the stress that goes with running it, he has to get it right the first time. No, it would take a very unique lady to fill the shoes of Mrs. Michael Collins, one full of understanding, in it for the distance.”
The words of proud parents blinded by devotion. Krista glanced at Michael to find him locked in on her with perhaps the most poignant expression she ever seen on a man, full of need and hope. It was painfully clear that he wanted her to shine for these people.
“Well, Michael is a catch to be sure,” Krista said playfully.
Michael balked but looked extremely pleased.
“So, how are things in Chicago?” she asked.
The Larkins regarded one another with amusement. “Haven’t you told her anything about us, Mikey?”
“Of course I have,” he said defensively.
“We’ve been in Vegas for three years,” Allan explained.
Krista’s brain absorbed the news. “Oh. How convenient to be right on Gerald Stewart’s doorstep,” she declared with a broad smile.
Allan winked. “Not a bad spot, eh, sitting on the big man’s knee?”
Norah gave her husband’s arm a swat. “You are such a kidder, Al. Even when it comes to your own health.” Her voice dropped in confidence as she addressed Krista. “It’s a weakness we don’t advertise, but Allan has a bit of trouble with arthritis, in his hands.” Krista’s glance dropped to Allan’s hands, which looked normal. “Shooting pain almost paralyzed him in autumn, the last few years back in Chicago. By the time the first snow fell, he was in unbearable pain. It was the weather, you see, the nasty cold and dampness.”
Krista kept a benign face. “How awful, for such a young man.”
Norah tittered. “He’s an old bear, really. Almost fiftytwo. The doctor insisted that the midwestern climate was bound to be his hell from then on.”
Michael nodded sagely at Norah’s diagnosis. “It only would have been a matter of time and Allan would’ve had to give up running the Chicago shop. There’s so much hands-on work with the doughnut preparation, hauling and checking supplies. They appealed to Gerald Stewart himself and he granted them permission to open up a shop here, not far from his headquarters. We were all so grateful. The move to Vegas’s arid climate certainly saved Gerald from an early retirement.”
“Can’t have him retiring,” Norah squawked. “Underfoot on my home turf.”
“No, dear, you prefer to be underfoot on my turf—at the shop.”
“As if you could run the place without me, old bear.” Norah smiled again. “So, Krista, have you set a wedding date?”
“Not yet,” Michael said quickly.
Norah stomped a low-heeled pump. “Why ever not!”
“There are our schedules to consider,” he fumbled.
“Do you have a career, Krista?” Allan asked.
Michael made a strangled sound that he disguised on a cough. “She’s searching for options.”
“I believe I’ve settled for the promotions game,” Krista couldn’t help announcing. “The creative challenges suit me perfectly.”
Michael regarded her with perhaps his first hint of respect. Then proceeded to embellish the story. “She is doing very well with a Minneapolis agency, it’s true. Has a delightful boss named Judy. They are always brainstorming on one project or another. Why, just the other night they had their heads together over a promo campaign for a local electronics store.” He gave Krista’s waist a squeeze. “Isn’t that right, honey?”
“I was good, wasn’t I, coming up with that robot?”
Norah was remarkably unimpressed. “Of course, you’ll soon be devoting all your time to the doughnut shop.”
Krista wondered if the older woman might be a bit threatened by her having an identity separate from Michael’s. “I suppose I may do that,” she said slowly.
“What better way to strengthen your relationship than to stand behind your man a hundred percent.”
There was no doubt as to whom Michael had fashioned his dream wife and idea of marriage after. She couldn’t help wondering about his own parents, if they had had any influence on him.
Michael placed a kiss on Krista’s head. “Naturally we have some issues to iron out still, but I can’t imagine a wife who wouldn’t support me wholeheartedly.”
Norah tweaked his chin. “Of course you can’t. There’s no beating our system.”
Fortunately for Krista, the matter was dropped. Conversation flowed on to lighter, more amusing issues. There was also a good amount of shoptalk, mostly concerning former customers in the Larkins’ Chicago shop.
The banter eventually wound down. The Larkins sipped the last of their champagne under Michael’s affectionate gaze. As they prepared to move on, Allan clapped Michael on the back. “We’re having Gerald up to our suite for drinks later on, ’round midnight. You’ll join us, won’t you?”
Michael beamed like a child at Christmas. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
As the Larkins wandered off, Michael grasped her elbow. “Not a bad start, with your help.”
“Thanks.”
“Quick thinking with the responsible job. If I didn’t know better, I’d have believed you are a part of Judy’s operation.”
“Double thanks.”
Another compliment for Judy. How frustrating to field respect for her. How annoying that she cared what he thought! As much as she enjoyed being viewed the femme fatale, she missed being appreciated for her brains. It would be nice to receive both admiration and respect from a man like Michael.
After a few hours of socializing over dinner and dancing, Michael and Krista headed for the Larkins’ suite, on the penthouse level. As they stood outside their door, Michael placed his hands on her shoulders—and tugged up the neckline of her dress.
“Excuse the fingers, but you are getting a little saggy.”
“I am not getting saggy, mister.” She quickly wrenched free in dismay.
“The dress,” he quickly hissed, “I mean the dress.”
It didn’t matter what he meant. Her heart was beating fast and hard. It was all the fault of his kisses. The taste of his mouth on hers had rocked her unexpectedly hard. The very graze of his fingertips brought it all back. She rapped on the hotel door with her knuckles.
“Remember, keep a low profile.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And don’t make so many funny faces.”
“Try walking around in these shoes for five minutes, then we’ll talk about funny faces.”
A uniformed waiter escorted them inside. There proved to be two hotel employees in attendance, the waiter and a bartender. Soft music played in the background. The lights were soft, too, just bright enough to make out faces and objects.
There were perhaps a dozen people present. Norah, the perfect hostess, quickly took Michael and Krista in hand, intimating that they’d been included in an elite gathering of Decadent Delights executive material.
Norah, who plainly viewed her voice as a precious instrument to be enjoyed by all, sang out for attention. “I want you all to know Michael Collins and his lovely lady friend Krista.” Amidst the blank stares she added, “Michael owns a shop. In Chicago.”
Krista felt the reaction was at best patronizing. If any of these guests had owned a shop before climbing the company ladder, they weren’t going to brag about it.
Again she felt a twinge about the Larkins. Allan and the missus had to be hoping for a promotion to the executive level themselves, with this kind of schmoozing. And they were most likely on the cusp, judging from the number of higher-ups that they’d managed to draw. Not a bad long-range plan in itself. But she could think of no reason to keep it from Michael. If the arthritis story was a fake, they’d been keeping things from him for a long while. What was in it for them, except the obvious: to keep him at arm’s length as one would a rival? Not a wicked thing in itself. But if he was regarded as a son, and they were reaping the rewards of his trust and devotion, it seemed to Krista a nasty game.
Michael touched her elbow. “I’ll be right back. Allan wants to show me a belt buckle he bought at a pawn shop.”
They’d been hours away from a window, as was common in casinos, so Krista was eager for a look outside. She wandered over to a wide glass pane for a view of the Strip. The night was inky black while stories below every color of the rainbow flashed or glimmered.
“Quite a scene, isn’t it?”
The deep voice startled her. The powder-blue suit blinded her. “Oh, Mr. Stewart!”
“Didn’t mean to startle you. Please call me Gerald.”
“All right, Gerald, if you like.”
His eyes twinkled merrily. “And your name is…”
“Krista Mattson, sir. You announced my engagement earlier to Michael Collins.”
Another man soon joined them—a wiry man of about thirty-five with a lean handsome face, slicked brown hair and small wire-rimmed glasses. His stark black tuxedo was in direct counterpoint to Gerald’s folksy getup. His eyes were also hard in a way that Gerald’s were warm.
“Ah, Jon.” Gerald smiled. “Jonathan Smithers is my right hand. Jon, this is Krista Mattson.”
“Yes, I recognize her from the crowd as Michael Collins’ fiancée.”
Krista couldn’t resist meeting Jonathan’s cold observant eyes in kind. She knew his type, the detail man behind the man. He made it his business to know exactly who everyone was. She wondered how much of what Gerald knew of his own people was due to Jonathan’s efforts.
“Are you from Chicago, as well?” Jonathan inquired politely.
“No, I live in Minneapolis,” Krista replied evenly.
“This Michael is out of Chicago?” Gerald asked Jonathan.
This Michael? Krista tried to control her dismayed expression. Was it possible, with all Michael’s aspirations, expectations and attention to this charade, Gerald wasn’t aware of him?
“Our hosts, the Larkins, are out of Chicago, too,” Gerald informed her jovially.
Krista moved in on the opening. “Michael got his start in their original shop, I understand.”
“Oh, he’s the prodigy, then.” Gerald absorbed the news with interest.
Plainly, he didn’t know Michael for dirt. This would have to be a grand-scale sales job, starting from the ground up. “That’s right. He’s certainly thrilled to be a part of the Decadent family. Running the shop is much of his life.”
Gerald Stewart looked pleased. “How nice to hear.”
“He’s entered your contest, too.”
“Has he?” The heavy brows jumped this time.
“Fully intends to win.”
“I like that sort of ambition.”
Without question, Michael would be crushed to learn the extent of Stewart’s passivity concerning him. Krista winced, and it wasn’t strictly the shoes this time.
“The Larkins are a fine couple, I must say,” Gerald continued. “Stood out even before they moved here, always so attentive to personal remembrances. Too bad about Allan’s health trouble, forcing him to relocate out of his beloved neighborhood.”
“I imagine he and Norah have made themselves at home right here in Nevada.”
“Yes, they have, in fact. Going way beyond the call of duty frequently. Taken this old widower under their wing, you might say, with their barbecues and cocktail parties and sightseeing excursions. Their request for a shop right in my territory has been of great benefit to me.”
How odd that despite the coziness shared by Gerald and the Larkins, Michael apparently was never a topic of conversation!
“Has Allan’s arthritis improved here?” she couldn’t resist asking.
“Seems fit to me, all right. A real shame about that particular affliction, though, as I have some opportunities opening up very soon that probably won’t suit him.”
Opportunities? Krista grew alert. “So you have new plans within your organization?” she prompted. “How exciting.”
Jonathan appeared nonplussed by the turn of subject. “This probably isn’t the time or place to discuss such matters, sir.”
Gerald chuckled, his brown pile rug bouncing on his head. “I do often throw caution to the wind when talking to a lovely woman.”
“Mr. Smithers,” she said sweetly. “Would you mind getting me a glass of mineral water, with a wedge of lemon?”
“Not at all,” Gerald replied firmly for his assistant. “Thank you, Smithers.”
Krista didn’t miss the right-hand man’s reservations at leaving them alone, but he had no choice. Presumably, Michael wouldn’t want her to press too hard here. But he didn’t have all the facts. Didn’t know how capable she was, and didn’t know the urgency of the situation. With some kind of expansion on the rise, it was crucial for Gerald Stewart to have a clear picture of Michael Collins. She had to hurry, Smithers was pushing hard through the line at the portable bar.
“Your company stands as quite a success story,” she ventured.
“Oh, my yes,” Gerald enthused. “Nine hundred shops in twenty-seven states now. Quite an achievement for a man who started as an errand boy in his father’s bakery.”
“I can respect how you’ve managed to get your employees rallied round you like a huge family,” she praised. Even if you can’t tell them apart.
“Keeping the essence of family alive is mighty important to me,” he said with a proud brace of his shoulders. “My wife Gloria’s been gone five years now. All I have left of real kin is a brother in Kansas.” Pain deepened the creases in his tanned face. “So the business has become my sole concern. It’s a frustration sometimes, trying to keep my people straight—like your Michael, for instance—but damned if I don’t try.”
Her expression softened. Perhaps he was as sincere as his reputation suggested. That gave her hope that Michael still could somehow make an impression. It would take aggressive personal contact. Michael was on the right track in coming to conventions, entering this year’s contest. But there was much work to be done if he wanted the chance at higher things—higher than a mere contest.
Suddenly Jonathan was back with her drink. And Michael was at her side, with an arm around her waist. “Hello, Mr. Stewart, Jonathan.”
Smithers merely nodded, but Gerald Stewart extended his hand.
“It’s Gerald to you, of course, Michael. Must say, your fiancée has been charming company.”
Michael nodded. “She’s been marveling at the weather here in your hometown.”
“Has she?” He seemed surprised.
“I understand from Allan that temperatures have been mild, though a bit drier than usual.”
Gerald winked at Krista. “We weren’t discussing the weather, were we?”
“The hotel?”
“No.”
“Gambling?”
Gerald chuckled. “Krista and I went straight beyond those clichés. She’s wasted no time in singing out your praises. Telling me how much you enjoy your franchise.”
“Really?”
“And I look forward to tasting your contest entry.”
“Wonderful, sir.”
Gerald put a hand on his shoulder. “How does it feel to be competing with the Larkins? Considering your relationship and all.”
Michael was glowing. “Nice of you to remember.”
“Of course I remember!”
“They are wonderful friends to me,” Michael intoned. “I don’t expect the contest to ruffle anyone too much, though.”
“I had no idea the Larkins were entered in the contest, too,” Krista said.
Gerald confirmed as much. “They’re serious contenders. Norah’s been teasing me to death about how great their entry is.”
“She’ll have some stiff competition from this fella, I can promise you,” Krista assured heartily.
“That’s fine,” Gerald enthused, stepped away. “Good luck now.”
Michael’s face settled into a frown as he steered Krista off. “What have you to say for yourself, Simona?”
“Fair to partly cloudy?” she peeped.
LATER, BACK IN THEIR HOTEL SUITE…
“Ooh, Michael, that feels so good. Rub me right there with your thumb, just a little deeper…”
“I probably shouldn’t be so attentive.”
“You’re the one who insisted I buy those death-trap shoes.”
“Well, the glittery ones were all wrong.”
“Tell that to my poor feet.” With a groan Krista readjusted her lounging position on the sofa, wishing she hadn’t let Judy talk her into bringing only her kimono for cover-up. No matter how she tugged at its hem, it kept sliding open on her thighs.
Seated at the end of the sofa with her sore pink tootsies in his lap, Michael seemed to be enjoying her writhing a little too much. He was at ease in a T-shirt and cotton sleep pants, his feet bare and white and pain-free.
“I think it’s high time we review the evening,” he said firmly.
“Seems a high price to pay for this massage.”
“The best deal you can expect,” he retorted.
Her mouth twitched in amusement. “Exactly what did I do wrong?”
“Let’s start with the reception, that crack about the Larkins moving onto Gerald’s doorstep.”
“Well, they have done so.”
“But you made it sound like a sneaky business maneuver, when the move was for health reasons.”
“You must admit, Allan’s hands don’t look arthritic.”
“It’s all too real, believe me. I’ll never forget the traumatic phone call from a very distraught Norah. To save my feelings, they’d withheld telling me until the move to Vegas was set with Gerald.”
Business sharks frequently kept their deals under wraps until the last minute, she thought. “What did they want of you when they did finally call?”
“They needed me to help with the transition from Illinois to Nevada. I had to leave my own shop with my assistants to help them prepare for the move. I made some big sacrifices to help them relocate. But I wanted to do it. Repay them for helping me out. Wouldn’t you do the same for someone you cared about? In a good cause?”
How could she deny it, considering this kettle of soup the aunts had pushed her into? “Been there, done that,” she admitted.
He beamed with a devotion that made her heart twist in envy. “The Larkins do try especially hard with Gerald. But the personal touch is a very effective and common business tactic. Don’t expect you to fully understand having no real competition with your column. You just receive letters, sift through them, and fire off glib replies from the safety of your office. Those of us within a system full of people have to deal with numerous obstacles in order to stand out, make progress.”
How Krista longed to discuss these matters under her own efficient colors. Instead she settled for the next best thing, a petty retort. “Everybody understands the art of sucking up to the boss.”
“My life is so separate from the Larkins these days, I prefer to simply relax and enjoy their company when I do see them.”
“Regardless, you’re bonded in some high-stakes competition.”
“Yes. But at worst they are my friendly rivals. I should know.”
Krista realized the Larkins were a sensitive issue. And she probably had no right to cast doubts about his friends. At least not without just cause. “If they are half as wonderful as you say, I’m sure all is well.”
“Just be good to them. As much as I cherish my business, my friendship with them is of the utmost importance.”
“Message received.”
“As for the party in the Larkins suite—”
“I know what you’re going to say,” she cut in. “But Gerald Stewart lives here, Michael. He’s not interested in discussing the local weather.”
“So of all possible topics, you chose to drill deeply into my business.”
“You should be on your knees, thanking me for getting out the drill.”
“For Pete’s sake, why?”
She didn’t have the heart to tell him that she was responsible for refreshing Gerald’s failing memory on the subject that Michael existed. “Because I found out something useful.”
He squeezed her feet a bit too hard, causing her to yelp. “What!”
“Gerald is planning some kind of expansion.”
“Really?” His brows settled into a frown. “Funny I never heard a rumbling. You sure?”
“Positive. Must still be at the hush-hush stage, because Jon Smithers cut him off.”
“Perhaps you misunderstood.”
“No!”
“Even so, I don’t like to think of you gleaning such information. Not when you routinely put one of these in your mouth column after column.”
She was affronted to see he was holding up her foot.
“Still, what’s done is done.” He continued his massage, growing pensive. “If this news is true, it must be hot off the presses. There hasn’t been the slightest rumor.” He gazed upon her with wonder and irritation. “Amazing, of all the employees surrounding him, he chooses to confide in you.”
She fluttered a hand. “My loveliness was mentioned as a distraction.”
“You are lovely,” he conceded.
“I am?”
“As if you don’t know it.”
Krista’s heart quickened. She felt like Cinderella as this man surveyed her new dazzling image with longing. She couldn’t help thinking once again that he was very much like the prince of her dreams—handsome, successful, dead-bang sure of himself. It was a fairy-tale moment, without doubt, right down to placing her foot in the prince’s waiting hand.
His waiting hand was presently on the move, over her ankle to her calf with a massaging glide. Only to be interrupted by the ringing of the telephone. Reluctantly, he leaned back to the end table to reach for the receiver.
“Hello, Norah.” His body language changed abruptly. Krista nearly bounced off the sofa as he sat upright. “No, we’re still up. Krista’s feet are sore from tight shoes. Yes, they looked spectacular with her dress. Got them here in one of the shops. I don’t recall the name of the place—she’ll know.”
She socked him in the arm, mouthing, I don’t want her to have the same shoes.
His blank expression suggested he didn’t see why. “You’d probably find them just as uncomfortable, Norah,” he offered lamely. “Oh. Maybe…”
“What?” Krista whispered, clinging to his arm.
He continued the conversation, trying unsuccessfully to shake her off. “Really?” he eventually said. “Hang on a minute.” He cupped a hand over the mouthpiece. “I don’t know what to do about this. Norah intends to have some of the wives to her house for lunch tomorrow. Wants you to come.”
“Is that necessary?”
“She does head up a small clique, makes a point of getting the women together in some way at every convention.”
Norah would cover every conceivable networking angle, thought Krista.
“I’ll understand if you don’t want to….”
But his eyes told a different story. And Krista knew it would look mighty strange if Michael’s devoted fiancée passed up time with his surrogate mother. With misgivings, she agreed.
“She’d love to. Great. Sure, I’ll tell her.” Michael hung up. “She will come for you in the morning around eleven-thirty. Plans to fit all of you into her new Cadillac.”
Krista folded her arms over her gaping robe. “How cozy.”
“Oh, and she says to dress casually.”
“What was the verdict on my shoes?”
“She has to have them.” He touched her chin as it fell. “Couldn’t you take that as a compliment?”
“I’d rather she find her own shoes.”
“I really don’t see the difference.”
“Because you are a man content to wear a red uniform shirt day after day!” She made a sputtering sound. “It’s a girl thing, Michael. The quest for uniqueness.”
“You are unique, I promise you.”
She couldn’t help throwing him an appreciative look.
“You did hear me try to stop her,” he offered in solace. “Told her you found them a tight fit.”
“How did she respond to that?”
He hesitated. “Says her feet are bound to be smaller than yours.”
“The smug old operator!”
“You probably won’t ever wear yours again. So what does it matter?”
“Of course I’ll wear them again! I love them!”
“After tonight’s agony, you’d really wear them again?”
“That’s right.”
“So, this foot rub wasn’t as necessary as you made out.”
“As if I’d turn down the offer. My first, by the way.”
“And my last. You con!”
Krista popped up from the sofa in a huff. “I’m a con because you’ve made me one!”
“Calm down.”
“Maybe I should rethink this lunch tomorrow.”
He slapped his thigh. “Oh, c’mon.”
“Considering all your insults—and Norah’s—I think I deserve a treat.”
He sighed hard, leaning forward on the cushion. “Okay, what are your terms?”
She lifted her nose in the air. “I am ordering something from room service. My favorite late-night snack.”
“I can only imagine what the temptress Simona craves at night.”
Her face glowed with anticipation. “Fresh fruit, crackers and milk.”
He was delightedly surprised. “After a long day that’s my favorite, too.”
Once they ordered and shared the feast, they parted company for the night. Michael put his hands on her shoulders, kissed her forehead. “Thanks for today.”
“You are very welcome.”
“And thanks in advance for your stint tomorrow.”
“Don’t close the books on that tab yet. You still may owe me.”
“Will you at least try to like Norah?”
“If she tries to compare our feet—”
“She won’t. Please try and find the good in her? It would make me very happy if we could all get along.” He skimmed her cheek with a finger. “We’re halfway there, really. I like you, you like me, I like Norah, Norah likes me.”
The very idea that he wanted her to share his feelings for another person brought them into new personal territory, more intimate than physical contact. And made her heart skip in delight. “I’ll give it a shot,” she promised softly. “Maybe in return, you can relax, have more faith in me.”
“I am trying. But your signals are at best, mixed.”
She rolled her eyes. “I think it’s time to say good-night, Doughman.”
“Good night to you, Simona.”
She couldn’t help but be surprised at how interesting this trip was turning out to be. The convention was full of intrigue and challenge. As Michael purported, there were measurable gains to be made on-site for an ambitious DD shop owner. How quickly she, the cautious career woman, had been pulled into his world, a part of his schemes. How very much she was enjoying it all.