Part 31 (2/2)
He heaved a sigh. ”Believe me, I don't like this situation.”
”Neither do I,” she said, drawing back to put some distance between them.
”Just for tonight, just for this one dance, let's forget about business,” he said softly.
Forget about her family heritage, her future and all the people depending on her simply because he was dancing with her. What did he think she was? She knew what he was. The fire inside her went out with a hiss. ”You really have your nerve. I'm about to lose everything and you expect me just to waltz around the floor in a daze with you.”
”Samantha.”
”That's not a Lone Ranger mask you're wearing and I can't be a hypocrite and dance with you,” she said.
In fact, she couldn't stay here and enjoy herself now. Every smile she managed would be fake. The song wasn't finished yet, but she pulled out of his arms and left the dance floor, anyway. The room was a kaleidoscope of color and beauty but all she saw was her future, dark and looming. She s.n.a.t.c.hed her coat from the table where she'd put it and ran from the hall, the day's successes now nothing but ashes in her mouth.
She speed-walked back to her condo, drawing inquisitive stares from tourists. No wonder. She looked like a lost prom queen.
She was all the way home before she remembered that she'd never told her sisters she was leaving. Eventually, they'd realize she was missing and look for her, so she called Cecily's cell and left a message that she wasn't feeling well. Then she got out of her ball garb and into her jammies and went straight to bed, where Nibs was happy to join her.
”What am I going to do?” she asked as she scratched his chin.
Sadly, Nibs had no solution.
She slept little that night, mostly lay awake thinking of all the people on her payroll, all the families who'd put their faith in Sweet Dreams. Had Blake really meant what he said? If he wasn't her enemy, then couldn't he be her ally? That thought brought her full circle to her original hope. Surely if she paid a big chunk on that bank loan he'd find a way to extend it.
It was a slim hope but it was the only one she had, the only solution her exhausted brain could come up with. She got up in time to see the sun rise over the mountains in a wash of orange and gold. A new day.
She made herself some oatmeal and then took a shower and felt better, so much better that she went out for an early-morning run along the Riverfront Park path. The morning was crisp and clear, a perfect day. Coming home she heard Gerhardt Geissel blowing his alpen horn over at Gerhardt's Gasthaus, his normal weekend ritual. Later in the morning, the church bells would ring at Icicle Falls Community Church, calling residents to prayer. By the time the bells rang, she'd be working the Sweet Dreams booth, praying like crazy that they'd sell a fortune in chocolate.
Her cell phone rang at nine. Cecily. ”I called to see how you're doing. Are you still sick?”
”I'm fine now.” And determined once more. After all, what other choice did she have? Quitting wasn't an option.
”You sure? 'Cause Mom and Bailey and I can work the booth if you don't feel well.”
”No, I'll be there,” Samantha said. ”How was the ball last night?”
”A raging success.”
”I hope Bailey didn't go wandering off with Brandon Wallace.” She should have stayed to watch over her sister.
”She didn't wander off with anyone. Anyway, too many other men were keeping her busy on the dance floor for him to have much access to her.”
”That's a good thing,” Samantha said. ”And how about you? How many men did you dance with?”
”I lost count.”
”Anyone in particular?” Samantha had seen how Luke Goodman looked at her sister. Cecily would be a fool to pa.s.s him up. Of course, when it came to her love life, Cecily had no sense. Why was it a woman couldn't ever see what was right in front of her face?
”No,” Cecily said airily. And then, before Samantha could pry further, she added, ”So, Mom says she'll meet you at the booth at ten. I'll show up at one with Bailey.” End of conversation.
”Okay,” Samantha said, taking the hint. She didn't know why she was poking around in her sister's business, anyway. She had enough on her hands with her own.
She drank a cup of coffee and then walked out the door. Center Street was already full of people, many of them wearing crazy Cat in the Hat stovepipe hats and other creative headgear from the Mad Hatter. She pa.s.sed young families, groups of girlfriends obviously enjoying a girls' weekend and couples strolling hand in hand. The ice rink was doing a brisk business, too, with lots of children and teenagers skating in wild circles around the more sedate older people. This was how Icicle Falls was supposed to look, and she'd helped make it happen.
She was smiling by the time she got to the Sweet Dreams booth, and she kept the smile all morning as she and her mother took money and handed out chocolate bliss. The crowds continued to swell.
”I think there are more people here today than there were yesterday,” Bailey said when she and Cecily showed up to take over the booth.
”The more, the better,” Samantha said. ”We're low on inventory. I'll run over to the shop and get it.”
What a wonderful errand to be running-off to get more chocolates so they could sell more and make more. Oh, yes, there was hope. There was always hope. Never give up, never give in.
She was halfway down the street when she spotted him. Her smile fell off and her heart plummeted into her boots. This was how Little Red Riding Hood felt when she stood by her granny's bedside and realized that the granny with the big teeth wasn't really Granny. The better to eat you with, my dear. Trevor Brown strolled along the street with the other bank snake, what's-his-name, hands in his pockets, surveying the whole party like a king observing his subjects. Of course he was up here spying, probably figuring he'd organize a festival, too, once he owned her company.
Well, he wasn't going to own it. She'd blow it up before she let that cheap candy maker get his greedy paws on it. Jaw set, she marched to the warehouse and grabbed a case of their salted caramels and one of their sampler boxes, as well as the last of their four-seaters. Then she set the whole mess on a dolly and made her way back to the booth.
And there he was, right in front of it, chatting up her baby sister.
She narrowed her eyes and entered the booth to stand next to Bailey. ”Mr. Brown, what brings you up here?” As if she didn't know.
He smiled at her. ”Just thought I'd check it out. You've done a great job of pulling this festival together.”
”Thank you,” she said stiffly. ”I couldn't have done it without the rest of the town. We all pull together in Icicle Falls.”
”Do you?”
She raised her chin a notch. ”Yes, we do.” Now she s.h.i.+fted her gaze to Blake's boss. ”That's how we've always worked here.”
”That so?” he said. ”Well, let's try some of your chocolate. What do you recommend?”
That you go jump in the river.
”They're all delicious,” Bailey said, clueless that she was talking to the enemy. ”Try the salted caramels. They're sweet but they have a bite.”
”Actually, I think we're out,” Samantha said coldly.
”No, we're not, Sammy,” Bailey said. ”You're just in time, though,” she informed the men, ”because we are running low.”
”How much?” Trevor Brown asked.
As if he couldn't tell. It was listed on the sign hanging behind them.
Bailey told him and he pa.s.sed her the money.
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