Part 30 (1/2)

”Play now, pay later.” He brought the apple to her mouth. ”Go on. You know you want to.”

She'd had enough of his smart mouth. ”Bite me,” her evil twin snapped.

”Anywhere you like,” he said as she wheeled her cart away.

Samantha was on an endorphin high as she and her sisters made their way to the chocolate dinner at Zelda's. Only an hour ago she'd dropped off a big chunk of cash in the night depository. They'd made a nice bundle on the Mr. Dreamy pageant and their chocolate booth had been a huge success and so had been the tea, according to Bailey.

”What's not to like about white-chocolate-lavender scones and chocolate-dipped strawberries?” Bailey had said.

Indeed.

Now it was just the sisters. Mom had worked at the booth and gone to the tea, but she'd sent them off to the dinner and ball without her, claiming exhaustion. Samantha knew it was more a case of preferring to be home with her memories than going out and watching other couples dancing.

Their schedule was too tight for them to go home and change after dinner, so they were all in their evening wear. Samantha felt ridiculously overdressed. ”We look like prommies,” she said as they emerged from Cecily's car in front of the restaurant.

”We look great,” Bailey corrected her.

Bailey was in borrowed finery, wearing a faux-fur coat over a creamy off-the-shoulder number with satin roses that she'd accented with Mom's pearls. Cecily was elegant in a midnight-blue designer gown she'd found at a consignment store in L.A. Samantha's gown was a green taffeta creation with a black netting underskirt that made her feel like the reincarnation of Scarlett O'Hara. Her sisters had insisted on paying for it and she'd given in and accepted when Cecily's old friend Ella had refused to accept her credit card. ”Sorry, Samantha, but your sisters win.”

”That's rare,” Cecily had joked. ”This is a moment to go down in history.”

Talk about a moment to go down in history, Samantha thought as they entered the restaurant. This was one she would remember for years to come.

Many of the other diners were also dressed to the nines, obviously ready for a night of dancing. Samantha felt a swell of pride as she looked around and saw the place packed with familiar faces, all smiling and enjoying the success of their festival. They'd set out to do the impossible and they'd succeeded.

”I love your dress,” said a woman who was in line in front of them, waiting to be seated.

”Thanks,” Samantha murmured.

”All your dresses,” the woman went on, taking them in. ”Are you going to that chocolate ball I heard about?”

”As a matter of fact, we are,” Bailey said cheerfully.

”Wow,” said the woman. ”You people really know how to do things right.”

Samantha thanked her and filed that comment away to share with her fellow Chamber of Commerce members when this was all over.

”Be sure to tell your friends,” Bailey said.

”Oh, I will,” the woman promised. ”You're going to do this next year, aren't you?”

”Absolutely,” Samantha said confidently. They'd had to scramble to find their footing, but she knew, deep down, that they were firmly on the road to success now.

”You guys look great,” Charley greeted them. ”Now I wish I'd gotten a ticket.”

”We can smuggle you in,” Cecily offered.

Charley shook her head. ”I don't want to risk meeting Prince Charming. I hope you all do, though.”

Bailey stuck out a foot to reveal a rhinestone-studded clear acrylic heel. ”I'm ready. I've got my gla.s.s slipper.”

Samantha just hoped she wasn't planning on giving it (or anything else) to Brandon Wallace. If she could have picked someone for her sister she'd have selected his older brother, Eric, who was steady as a rock and dependable. Of course, he'd have bored Bailey to tears.

What was with them? Why couldn't the Sterling sisters manage to get it right when it came to men?

She let Charley lead her sisters to their table, a favorite corner booth by the stone fireplace, while she set out to make the rounds among the diners. As the face of Sweet Dreams, Samantha knew she had to say h.e.l.lo to all the people who had anted up for this event. She didn't mind doing that at all. She was happy to see everyone who was here.

Well, almost everyone. What had brought Blake Preston out? Since when did he care about chocolate or Sweet Dreams? There he sat at a table with his grandmother, his mother and a woman Samantha was pretty sure she recognized as his sister. Mr. Genial Host, whooping it up at what he hoped was her last supper.

They were going to pull out of this, and once they did they would pull their account from his First Bank of the Heartless before he could say, ”Your money or your business.”

She started at the farthest end of the restaurant from where he sat, greeting Lily Swan and her daughter, Ella.

Lily looked like she'd just stepped out of the pages of Vogue. She wore a strapless black gown and her perfectly dyed blond hair had been swept up to show off her long, Audrey Hepburn neck. Around that neck hung a pink gold chain from which a single diamond dangled-tasteful but expensive, like the woman wearing it. Lily was somewhere in her fifties but she looked forty. She still, after all these years, intimidated Samantha just a little, maybe because Samantha suspected that, deep down, Lily still saw her as the sneaky kid who'd lifted a pair of earrings from her when she was new in town and just setting up shop.

”You look ravis.h.i.+ng tonight, Samantha,” she said in her aloof Lily Swan voice.

”It's all thanks to the gown,” Samantha said. ”Your daughter has great taste, Mrs. Swan.” And a generous heart. Ella had given Bailey and Cecily enough of a discount to save her from a guilt overload over their sisterly gesture of kindness.

”She does have good taste. In clothes,” Lily said. Samantha sensed a double meaning in there somewhere. Ah, mother-daughter relations.h.i.+ps. They were complicated.

Samantha smiled at Ella. ”You can say that again. Where's Jake?”

”He's got a gig in Wenatchee,” Ella said.

Jake was a struggling musician so a gig was a good thing as far as Samantha could tell, but Lily let out a long-suffering sigh and Ella frowned.

Okay, time to move along. Samantha wished them bon appet.i.t and stepped away. Next stop: Pat and Ed.

He was distinguished in his tux and she was wearing an amber gown that looked vintage, possibly something she'd had for years. Samantha hoped when she got to be Pat's age she could still fit into this gown. Maybe she could-if she stopped sampling so much of her company's product.

Ed saluted her with his winegla.s.s. ”Great idea, Samantha. This is going to be quite a night.”

Yes, it was. ”I hope it's not too soon to p.r.o.nounce our festival a success,” she said.

Pat nodded. ”No other word for it. I haven't seen Zelda's this packed in ages. I think we've even got some out-of-towners with us tonight.”

Samantha looked around the room. ”Oh, I know we do.” Surely these visitors would tell their friends and next year even more people would come, snow or no snow.

As her gaze skimmed the room, she suddenly became aware that she was being watched. Like nails to a magnet, her attention was drawn to the table where Blake sat holding court-and taking in every inch of her, like some h.o.r.n.y adolescent lounging on a street corner. She told herself he was a jerk and a Scrooge and the sudden flash of heat searing through her had nothing to do with attraction. It was simply warm in here.

Seeing that she'd caught him watching, he gave her a quick wave. She waved in return and then turned her back.

She stopped at six more tables and then there was no avoiding it. She had to visit his. He stood as she approached and she managed a smile-polite on the rocks.

It should have turned him into a giant ice sculpture but it didn't. ”You look lovely tonight,” he said to her.