Gerald had sent his limousine for the couple but the luxury was wasted on them. Someone bothering to take the recipe from Michael’s briefcase was a strange twist in the game. The question was, who was the culprit?
They were out beyond the glitter of the Strip now as their driver sped along I–15 toward Gerald Stewart’s home in southwest Las Vegas.
They traveled far beyond the Larkins’ middle-class suburb into a posh neighborhood of open space and gated mansions. The limo halted at a residence providing a stately anchor for a boulevard corner, pressed a code into a keypad and drove through yawning gates.
Michael squeezed Krista’s hand as they made the trek up a long ribbon of drive. “This is the pinnacle of success,” he said in hushed reverence.
The grounds, illuminated by generous lighting, were a spectacular array of palms, scrubs and rock formations. The house itself was a sprawling three-level masonry structure full of windows. There was an attached garage on the left, as well as a second freestanding building with a row of garage doors. The driveway jutted two ways, circling up near the front door on the right. The moment they emerged from the back seat of the limo, the front door opened and the aunts came outside.
“They’re here!”
“Welcome!”
The sisters descended on the couple.
Beverly captured Krista in her strong arms, her breath hot and fierce near her ear. “You got that blasted recipe?”
“No,” Krista whispered. “Lost it.”
“Don’t worry,” Michael said, peeling the small clingy Rachel off his chest. “I’ll help you every step of the way.”
“And in return,” Krista bargained, “you will help Michael shine before Gerald.”
Rachel rocked back on her spike heels. “Gee, for someone who misplaced a treasured old family recipe, you’re pretty snippy.”
Krista replied irritatedly, “You are the ones who insisted I take it back. Said you intended to burn the original!”
Michael stepped into the fray. “Surely you two can slip out of this silly obligation. Why not use your persuasive talents?”
Beverly’s bosom puffed along with her ego. “Normally, I too would call this task unnecessary silliness. Any man with a doughnut empire should be able to satisfy his own sweet tooth. But as it is, we’ve made sort of a compromise. We bake the cake, he shakes the rug. As we all know,” she said with feeling, “that rug has to go.”
No sooner were the words out of Beverly’s mouth than the dapper mogul was out on the doorstep dressed in a western shirt and jeans. His bald dome shone under the stoop lights.
“Good evening, Gerald,” Krista greeted him uncertainly.
Gerald nodded at the newcomers, quickly breaking the ice. “Must say, there is a unique pleasure in feeling the cool night air on my scalp. But let’s not stand out here when there’s a special dinner waiting for us inside.”
Several house staff bustled in the spacious interior of the house. The decor was modern, with large leather furniture and mission pieces.
Krista pointed out some iron sculptures and the pink marble fireplace as especially unique.
“Built the whole thing up from scratch when Gloria and I moved out here back in the eighties.”
“Where did you get your start, Gerald?”
“Dallas, Texas, where both Gloria and I were born. Started with one shop. Within three years expanded to five. The rest is history.”
Dinner was soon served. The long dining room table was laden with choices. Huge slabs of roast beef drenched in barbecue sauce, corn on the cob, biscuits and a variety of salads.
Rachel cast Michael a sly look and announced that he was looking particularly dishy tonight.
Krista bristled. This wasn’t the kind of attention she meant for the aunts to bestow on him! But it was, in fact, the only kind of attention Rachel bestowed on a man. She was sincerely trying.
Happily, it brought Gerald out in the open. “As busy as I’ve been, Michael, I haven’t been able to shake your uniform shirt program from my mind. What amazes me most is that I never before gave the issue a bit of thought. Coming from a middle-class background, there was always cash from my father for any expenses. Charging for uniforms just seemed routine procedure from my point of view.”
Michael went on to supply some anecdotes to further boost his position.
The conversation took a sharp unyielding turn to business. For the next two hours the aunts blended into the woodwork, while Michael, Krista and Gerald discussed everything from display cases to insulated sacks to the ramifications of adding a delivery service. Krista even proposed the idea of a theme song. Though she didn’t say so, she helped promote many a company with the help of a tune.
“I feel as though I’m swimming in a virtual think tank!” Gerald came to say.
“Beverly and I are drowning in it,” Rachel grumbled.
“It’s okay,” Beverly said in a sweet voice virtually foreign to Krista’s ears. “All this shoptalk is growing on me.”
Rachel popped up from her chair with a toss of her blond head. “I think I’ll go call my boyfriend, if no one minds.”
Gerald waved her off with his fork. “Be my guest. There must be twenty phones in this place.”
When Rachel returned some thirty minutes later, all aglow, the conversation was finally winding down. Gerald made it official by dabbing a napkin to his mouth. “A wonderful spread,” he announced to his cook, Mrs. Beacon, who had come out of the kitchen to check on them. “All that is missing,” he said significantly to the ladies, “is the pineapple upside-down cake for dessert.”
Michael cleared his throat and rose from his chair. “Mrs. Beacon, if you will show us around your turf, we’ll get started. Won’t we?” he said firmly to the shrinking aunts.
Krista was left to her own devices when Gerald begged off to make an important phone call to Jonathan Smithers at the hotel. She wandered around the house, appreciating the recessed lighting, beamed ceilings and inlaid cabinetry.
It was in Gerald’s study that she lingered. At her leisure she perused his shelves of books, his abstract prints. By the time Gerald discovered her, she was holding a framed photograph in her hands.
“Ah, Krista.”
She whirled toward him with a start. “Gerald! I didn’t hear you.”
“This is exactly the place I intended to bring you.”
Her eyes darted with a nervous appreciation. “It’s quite a nice place for escape, I imagine.”
“Yes.” Shoving his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, he sauntered closer. “Gloria and I would sit in here to unwind. We’d read books to each other, listen to music.”
They both looked down at the silver frame she held tight enough to make her thumbs red.
“What you are thinking, m’dear?”
Krista laughed shortly. “I am thinking that for the first time, Aunt Bev has trumped her sister in the man department.”
Gerald gently took hold of the photograph of himself and a woman Krista presumed was his late wife Gloria. “It’s true that Beverly bears a remarkable resemblance to Gloria.”
“No wonder you made a beeline for us that day in the lobby. I did wonder about the draw at the time. Though Rachel was the most obvious assumption. She is an outrageous flirt with amazing magnetism.”
“Rachel is attractive in a flashy way, of course. But under no circumstances would I ever prefer her to a modest and stable woman like Beverly. In any case, it soon became clear that Rachel’s flirty act was merely a game. She never had any real interest in me, having a boyfriend at home.”
Krista was amused. “Obviously, you have her number.”
“Rachel is the type of woman who craves attention from all men. It’s harmless. I, too, like the limelight. Now, a woman like Beverly better understands the value of commitment.” His eyes crinkled. “After forty years of marriage, commitment is what I do best, what I miss most as a widower.”
“I assume Beverly knows about this resemblance?”
“Told her today. Reason I’ve waited this long is that I wanted to test my own intentions, take some time, however brief, to get to know her as a unique personality. If we didn’t click, I figured she’d never have to know any details. As things have turned out, Beverly is a fascinating woman in her own right, someone I’ve quickly grown very fond of.”
“I can see now why you’ve tried to entertain my aunts separately, away from the convention—in order to preserve your secret!”
“I was buying time, I admit. There was always the chance that someone might clue one of you in on Beverly’s resemblance to Gloria. It’s the reason I hustled her away from the Larkins the other night. If it had happened, I would have dealt with it.”
The robust man wilted a little as he placed the photo back on the desk. “Now that I am ready to court Beverly, there will be some people, among those who knew my late wife, who will jump to the petty conclusion that I am looking for a duplicate companion. That is the reason I invited you out here tonight, Krista. I want to explain to you my intentions. Assure you that I have nothing but the highest regard for Beverly and would cherish her.”
“To think I’ve viewed you as nothing more than a carefree threesome!” She paused, then gasped her own twist on words. “You know what I mean. Don’t you? Three innocent people. If Rachel can be regarded as an innocent.”
He chuckled indulgently. “Despite Rachel’s big vamp act I suspect she is fairly devoted to her boyfriend back home. Though I had no idea he existed until today. With her pride, I’m sure she wouldn’t like to hear me refer to her as the perfect third wheel, but her presence has given me the chance to move in on Beverly slowly, deliberately. It’s been three buddies at play up until this afternoon. While Rachel enjoyed a relaxing soak in my spa, I stated my case to Beverly. Miraculously, she welcomes my advances. The next and final step for me, is to convince you, a most valued relative, of my sincerity.”
“How very sweet, Gerald. Though there’s really no need to convince me of anything. Beverly is mighty picky about her relationships. Even though she has been known to dole out poor advice to others, she’s very careful about her own moves.”
He chuckled. “She is a woman with an opinion. Sure took an immediate stand on my toupee. Plucked it right off my head in the heat of…negotiation.”
Krista sized him up approvingly. “Must say, my sketch didn’t do you justice. You look very distinguished.”
“If I decide to redo my company logo, I hope I can count on your help.”
“Of course you can.” She gave him a gentle hug. “Welcome to my world, by the way.”
“That’s nice. Very nice.”
Breaking free she linked her arm in his. “Shall we go see about that cake?”
It was close to one a.m. when all except Gerald made the return trip to the Imperial Majestic in Gerald’s limousine. He was forgoing a night in his penthouse suite at the hotel to attend to business from his home office.
Rachel’s repining started even before the vehicle left the driveway. “All that cooking for nothing! I shouldn’t even have had to help.”
“You didn’t help,” Michael replied evenly, settling back on the seat.
“Why should I, under the circumstances!”
He sat up straighter. “What circumstances?”
“A wonderful job you did, Michael,” Krista broke in to praise. “The cake was delicious. Gerald had three pieces.”
“Men!” Rachel wailed, clapping a ringed hand to her cheek. “You can’t understand them. You certainly can’t trust them.”
“So what if he’s fallen for me,” Beverly crowed. “May as well pull up your girdle and accept it.”
“Gerald has shown interest in you, Beverly?” Michael was astonished. “That’s the circumstance Rachel’s talking about?”
“We’ve sort of clicked,” Beverly admitted with pride. “Just told me today that he’d like to see more of me.”
“Wow. I had no idea.”
“Hard to say if it will go anywhere, but he is a nice man.”
Rachel gave her sister a sharp nudge. “I don’t wear a girdle.”
“Do so.”
“You’re the one who needs one with your wide—”
“Rachel!” Krista intervened. “You have nothing to gripe about. You have a boyfriend, Bob Freeman!”
“Your boyfriend is Bob Freeman?” Michael asked. “The managing editor at the Minneapolis Monitor?”
Krista’s heart raced. This revealing argument was bound to put unwelcome strain on the fabric of their lies—at a very unwelcome time. Here was Michael, on the brink of the big contest, and he was sorting through inconsequential details that would do him no good. His fragile ego was still in no way prepared to handle the news that Gerald’s interest in him was generated by his connection to the aunts.
As for the aunts’ connection to her boss at the newspaper, it was just another clue as to the real identity of Simona.
It was plain the charade was beginning to burst at the seams, as it was bound to eventually. But all she needed was tomorrow. The bake-off was in the morning, the judging in the afternoon and the award ceremony in the evening. After that, the truth would in no way interfere with Michael’s professional aspirations. He might need a stopover in a rest home to reenergize, but he would be in good stead with the Decadent Delights empire.
How he would feel about her as a lover, a life partner, she didn’t want to even think about.
“Bob Freeman,” Michael repeated in disbelief.
Rachel turned snappy eyes to Michael. “I didn’t cheat on him with Gerald, if that’s what you’re implying!”
“It didn’t occur—”
“Harmless flirtation is all it was. A lady likes to be hit on even if she has a boyfriend. It’s the thrill of the chase. The rousing male scent.” She breathed deep, as if stocking up on male scent.
“Freeman sure never had an impartial view of my complaint to the newspaper, did he?”
“Quit thinking so hard,” Beverly advised. “Foolish exercise when you’re getting what you want.”
“You should be the last to whine, master chef,” Rachel crowed in support of her sister. “Beverly’s actually prepared to sleep with this Gerald character if necessary.”
“Not on account of me, she won’t! Gerald and I have our own understanding.”
“Of course you do,” Krista said hastily, flashing a warning look to the pair of rowdy hens. “Enough said.”
Rachel sniffed. “Just the same, you could show a little gratitude for all our kindnesses.”
Michael flung himself back on the car seat in defeat.
KRISTA EXPECTED SOME FIREWORKS once they retreated to their suite. Securing the chain on the door, she turned to find Michael stoically staring out the window. She mustered the nerve to ask him how he was feeling. It was like lighting the fuse on a stick of dynamite.
“Those women are trying to drive me insane, you know!”
“They don’t know you well enough yet to try that.”
“It’s true, I tell you.” He paced around, arms flying. “Beverly and Rachel are here to conduct some weird experiment on an innocent male. Realizing I’d be cornered in a tight jam by our charade, they closed in for the kill.”
“Oh, Michael.”
“First order of torture, find me in the masses. Second order, cozy up to my boss. Third order, wiggle into contest kitchen to bake cake for boss, a cake they neither recall or care about.” He raised a finger as she prepared to speak. “Fourth on the list, storm boss man’s house, force me to finally finish their aborted cake mission under the worst imaginable conditions.”
“The cake turned out beautifully, thanks to your talents.”
“Wish you had been there for the talent show. That pouty, difficult pair screwed up every task I tried to give them—even argued about the pronunciation of alum.”
“I don’t remember that being in the recipe.”
“Rachel was going through the spice rack and pulled out the jar because the contents were white. After all, any white powder belongs in a cake mix, right?
“I suggested she take a sniff, and she ended up dumping half the jar all over the place.” He marched over to pull his shirt away from his chest and give her a whiff. “Does that smell like something for a cake?”
“No?”
“It’s used to pickle things.” He smiled dangerously, leaving her to wonder what he’d like to pickle, given the chance.
“You’d think they’d be battle fatigued by now,” he raved on. “But no, there’s the clash in the car. Suddenly Beverly’s seducing Gerald. Rachel’s in cahoots with Bob Freeman.”
“Why should either relationship matter to you?” she soothed.
“I don’t know that they do. It’s just the element of surprise, the unlikely connections, the dabs of glue bonding your aunts to my backside.” He shook his head in bewilderment. “I’m used to being in control of my world, of forging clear-cut relationships. But the higher I climb on your family tree, the more disoriented I feel. All the Mattson branches are entangled with one another. You and me. You and your aunts. My secrets and your aunts. Your aunts and your boss. Your aunts and my boss. So many women doing so many things. To me!”
“I am right in assuming you’ve never dealt with more than one woman at time, much less three from one family?”
He nodded. “Is it always this hectic?”
She bit her lip, gave him a hesitant nod.
“I don’t like all this confusion, Krista. Don’t like it at all.”
“We’ll sort everything out. After the contest,” she added emphatically. “That’s where your head should be now, on tomorrow’s strategy.”
“I can only hope to think straight enough to pull it off!” He raked a hand through his blond hair. “This is exactly why I stick to business all the time. Personal hassles only drag me down.”
Despite any blame she might feel, Krista was beginning to get irritated. She had fought her reserved nature to bond with this man she’d known for such a short while. Even if she hadn’t completely revealed herself to him, she had opened up her heart wide. Now all she heard was him backing off.
“It must be possible to run a successful business and have a relationship at the same time,” she reasoned. “Gerald managed well for a thirty-year stretch and is at it again. I bet he isn’t making the fatal mistake of analyzing every single angle he doesn’t completely understand.”
“Maybe Gerald’s wearing rose-tinted glasses because he’s lonely. Too lonely for his own good. I say he’s better off on his own.”
Tough words meant to drive her off. With a man less special, her pride would have driven her to her room by now with a slam of the door. But surprisingly, she held tight to a wiser perspective. The pressure of the evening had most likely put in place all the barriers Michael had originally built during his troubled upbringing. He was on the defensive and feeling isolated.
Krista knew full well that it was up to the person with the happy childhood to be the one to yield.
“Rose-tinted glasses are very popular with lovers, Michael,” she said gently. “It helps smooth out the flaws we all have to make love possible. And if anybody around here is too lonely for his own good, it is you.” Impulsively, she cupped her hands to his face, stood on tiptoe and kissed him.
“But, Krista—”
“You think too much.” She deepened her kiss.
He groaned in yearning as her tongue explored his. Soon her hands were tearing at his clothes and he was a goner.
Thanks to fevered lovemaking, Michael slept well until dawn. They’d ended up in his bed, so it was his alarm clock that buzzed on the nightstand. He shut it off and rolled back on the mattress to find that Krista was gone. Probably best, as her presence under the sheets was an irresistible temptation. He rose, quickly showered, shaved and dressed. Then he moved into the living space to order lots of coffee from room service.
Krista was way ahead of him, already dressed in her red polo shirt and dark slacks, transferring breakfast goodies from a room service trolley to the table.
“Morning, beautiful.”
She whirled around with joy, her long black hair a shiny banner on her shoulders. “Hey, I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever rise and shine. Thought I was going to have to come in there and shake you.”
“That probably would’ve put us both back in bed.”
She smiled like a contented kitten. “Come, have something to eat.”
He joined her at the table, allowing her to fix his coffee the way he liked, with a dash of cream.
“Maybe this isn’t the time to start a real discussion again about our affairs, Krista—”
“No, it isn’t,” she said brightly. “Not on Michael Collins day. Today is the culmination of everything you have worked for. Nothing should intrude.”
He covered her hand on the table. “Just want to say…”
“That you never should’ve blown up last night?”
“No!” He snatched his hand back. “I wasn’t going to say that.”
She shrugged and began to butter a slice of toast. “Told you this wasn’t a good time for talk.”
He tore the bread away from her mouth. “But I want to talk. Need to talk.” He dropped the toast on her plate. “I’ve been thinking about some of the things you said last night, especially that I think too much. I’m sure I do. But I sense that you do, too. On one hand there is this wild Simona streak in you, but it only goes so far. When challenges fall in your path you get serious, react like a seasoned operator. I feel you react like me.” He shook his head. “I find your signals very confusing.”
“You aren’t far off the mark with your assessment of me. There are a lot of things we’ll need to sort out. When we have the time.”
“But you must realize that we can’t always interrupt discussions with sex,” he objected. “We’ll never completely connect if we do.”
She traced a finger along his jawline, more delighted than ever. “We’ll make it all happen. And soon.”
“Just not today?”
“Just not today.”
THE KITCHEN’S ATMOSPHERE was humming with tension on this, the third and final round. As Krista stood in line at the ingredients booth with her number seven card, she noted that there was very little chitchat between fellow contestants. Everyone was going through the motions with care and efficiency.
After she set her card on the counter, she turned to discover Beth in another line. She couldn’t help pausing to say hello.
“Hi, Krista.” She tucked some stray red curls behind her ear. “Tell Michael I’m sorry about the briefcase mixup yesterday. I was so anxious to escape that party that I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Could have happened to anyone,” Krista assured.
“Also tell him I intend to tease the daylights out of him once he’s desperate for some private time with you!”
Krista laughed. “I will tell him. Promise!”
When she returned to their station, Michael was setting out his utensils and pans on the counter. “Any problems?”
She touched his back. “Nope.”
“Took you a while.”
“I was speaking to Beth. Wants you to know you’re in for some heavy teasing once you’re looking for a romantic escape from the realities of parenthood.”
He chuckled. “Unfortunately for Beth and Randy, I am too clever to get caught with my…briefcase open.”
She gave his rear end a smack. “You are the wise one today, aren’t ya.”
The sound of voices startled them. They turned around in unison to find Jonathan Smithers at their station, flanked by two security guards.
Michael placed his hands on hips, facing them down. “What’s all this about?”
Smithers’s face gleamed with ill-concealed triumph. “Pack up your toys, Collins.”
“Excuse me?”
“You are disqualified from this contest. Now take up your possessions and leave this area immediately.”