Lost and Fondue (37 page)

Left out in the couples department, I felt my heart grow heavy. Jordan and I hadn’t made plans to meet at the theater, but I’d hoped he would appear. He knew I’d be there. Maybe he was having second thoughts about asking me to go on the trip to Gruyéres. After the run-in with Dane, my picture had made the front page. Maybe Jordan figured that being with me might blow his well-designed cover.

I turned back to Matthew and Meredith. “So, where were we? Oh, yes, how did Sylvie take the pronouncement? Not to tragedian proportions, I hope.”

“In her inimitable Sylvie way,” Matthew said. “With a tight smile and a flip of her ice-white hair.” He mimicked the gesture. “Thankfully, she’s going back to England today.”

“No, I’m not.” Sylvie strutted to our group, her faux ocelot coat replaced with a chartreuse knee-length coat, her hair streaked green to match.

I bit back a laugh. Had she glanced in the mirror? Did she really think she looked fashionable? Maybe at the age of sixteen. In Soho.

“What do you mean, you’re not going back to England?” Matthew gulped.

“My luck’s changed while I’ve been here,” Sylvie said. “So I’ve decided this is where I should settle.”

“Settle?” Matthew’s voice bordered on strident.

Sylvie grinned. “I negotiated a twenty percent finder’s fee for the treasure I found.”

Of course she did. She was no dummy. Her self-sacrificing speech to me was a sham.

“I’ve rented a little place near Charlotte.”

“Near me?” I chirped.

“And I’ve put the down payment on a lovely shop on Cherry Orchard. Poor dear was going under.” Sylvie leaned in. “Bad money management.”

“Which store?” Matthew clenched Meredith’s hand so tightly he was draining the color out of it.

“The candy shop. I’m turning it into a women’s boutique. I’ll call it Under Wraps, specializing in items that go under or over anything. I’ll give that old nag Prudence Hart a run for her money.”

My heart started going pitter-pat as I worried about the repercussions for Matthew, Meredith, and the twins. And yes, for me, too. Prudence would be less than pleased with this little turn of events and blame me.

Sylvie fluffed her hair and eyed me with disdain. “Guess what? I’ll give you a makeover for free, Charlotte.”

“I don’t need—” I snapped my mouth shut. The gall. I would not rise to the bait.

Sylvie smirked. “Isn’t it wonderful? I’ll be here for my girlie girls. What that old court said doesn’t really have to stand, you know.”

“Uh, yes, it does,” Matthew blurted. “They’ll be living with me. Full time.”

“Whatever. You’ll let me see them as much as I want. You’ll want them to know that I love them and cherish them. After all, I am their mother, and we all know, after this week’s tragedy, how negligent parenting can influence children.” Sylvie twirled a finger. “Oh, Charlotte, by the by, come take a look at the gift I gave the girls.”

Matthew said, “Aren’t the girls with Pépère?”

“They were, but I can always find them.” Sylvie sniffed. “It’s a mother’s instinct.”

Matthew snorted. “Stink is right,” he mumbled.

I heard the comment and giggled. So did Meredith. She thwacked his shoulder.

With a firm grip, Sylvie grasped my wrist, drew me outside, and gestured toward the side of the theater where there was a narrow strip of grass. On it stood a massive brown puppy with long hair. It was flanked by the twins, who were using wide-toothed combs to groom its hair.

“He’s a Briard,” Sylvie said. “And get this. He’s named after Brie, the cheese.”

“The city,” I said.

She frittered a hand at me. “Who knew there was a cheese dog? It’s a herding dog for cheese. Well, for sheep, actually. I got him from that breeder in town.”

“You mean the animal rescuer,” I corrected.

“Whatever. She said the Briard is a fierce defender of family and farm, and he’s so fast, I’ve named him Rocket. Isn’t he a cute little thing?”

Little? By the look of his paws, he would grow to more than one hundred pounds.

I shook my head. “Sylvie, you can’t start a new business
and
take care of a puppy, too.”

“Oh, I don’t intend to. I told the girls that Rocket would be staying with them and their father.”

I.e.,
me
.

“What?” The roots of my hair twitched with anxiety. Any second now, I’d explode.

“Say yes. You wouldn’t want to break their sweet hearts, would you?” Sylvie offered a sly
gotcha
smile.

“You can’t.
I
can’t,” I sputtered, doing my best to keep myself under control. “I can barely manage a career and the twins and Rags. And Clair’s allergic.”

“Tosh! Not to dogs. Besides, kids need pets. Oh, look at the time.” She didn’t even attempt to give a cursory glance at her watch. She was on the run, yet again. “Amy, Clair! Mumsie’s got to be off. Work calls.” She swept them up in hugs and kisses, and seconds later, flew away, leaving emotional destruction that wasn’t visual to the naked eye in her wake.

As a team, the twins tugged on Rocket’s bright red leash and drew him toward me.

“Isn’t he beautiful, Aunt Charlotte?” Clair said.

“And friendly,” Amy added. “Bend down. Let him sniff you.”

I wriggled my skirt to mid-thigh and crouched next to the dog.

On cue, Rocket licked my face and stole my heart.

“You’re going to let us keep him, aren’t you, Aunt Charlotte?” Amy said.

Rocket nuzzled up to me and laid his huge puppy paw across my thigh.

By the impish gleam in the twins’ eyes, I could tell that they knew I would. And Clair, surprisingly, wasn’t sneezing. Maybe she truly was allergic to her mother and nothing else, I thought with sinful glee.

“Clair.” I handed her the leash. “Take Rocket to the rear of the theater. We’ll deal with this matter after the show, okay?”

They scampered off with Rocket—a wobbly mass of adorable—trotting between them.

I spun around to return to the theater and spied Jordan traipsing up the stairs toward the entrance. The golden glow of floodlights hit the planes of his face and magnified the strong cheekbones and the energy in his gaze. Ripples of joy swept over me. He spotted me and paused, one hand in his trousers pocket. Could any man look more stunningly sexy?

But then his mouth twisted down in a frown and his gaze turned hard. He said, “I run a little late and you replace me?”

“Replace you?”

“I saw the kiss he gave you.”

“Who gave me?”

“The dog.”

Like an idiot, I cut a look over my shoulder at the retreating dog, and back at Jordan, whose mouth twitched as his eyes now sparkled with mischief.

He swept me into his arms and planted a killer of a kiss on my mouth. “Tell me I’m a better kisser.”

“You’re definitely better,” I mumbled into his lips.

“Now tell me you’re ready for our trip.”

“Am I ever.” Unwarranted, a list of chores flew through my head.

“Uh-uh.” Jordan tapped my nose. “No list-making. When the show is over, you’re racing home and putting a few things into a suitcase. We leave tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow? But I have to iron, pack, and bake muffins and casseroles for the week I’d be gone just in case Matthew doesn’t have enough energy to put a hamburger together for the twins.”

“Uh-uh. You’re off the hook. I’ve arranged for my sister to check in on Matthew,” Jordan said.

“Jacky would do that for me?”

“She’s in nesting mode.” He hugged me again.

“What about airline tickets you purchased? You can’t possibly switch them at such short notice.”

Jordan twirled an imaginary mustache. “I have my ways.”

“Charlotte!” Grandmère appeared outside the front of the theater. “Curtain!”

“Coming.” I gazed at Jordan and realized I needed a promise from him. One simple promise. I walked my finger up his chest. “Remember, I said I’d only go on this vacation on one condition.”

He tilted his head in that sensual way that sent delicious shivers to my toes. “What’s the condition?”

“You tell me everything about you. What you did before you moved to Providence. What your real name is. The truth.”

He paused, as if the request was too much, then held up his palm and said, “I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God.”

A different kind of shiver shimmied through me. Why did I get the feeling that he’d said those words a lot of times? To a judge.

And why didn’t I care?

Preheat oven to 300 degrees.

Mix everything together. Easy.

Roll into balls the size of walnuts.

Place the balls on a cookie sheet, slightly apart.

Bake 30 minutes.

Turn the heat up to broil.

Broil for 5 minutes.

Remove the cookie sheet from the oven. Place baked porcupines on paper towels to drain.

Serve with spicy catsup.

Mix catsup, Worcestershire, and horseradish and serve. (Really easy.)

MAKES 6–8 SCONES