The Diva Steals a Chocolate Kiss (5 page)

Dan stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled. “Great job, guys!”

Coco slapped her brother on the back in a congratulatory way. “Your talent always amazes me, Dan. How could you possibly have created that huge sculpture so fast?”

“I was working on it as a gift for Dad and Nonni, so it was almost done. I
thought
this would be as good a time as any to give it to them.”

Coco inhaled sharply.

Mitch wrapped his arm around her in a comforting way and shot Dan a look that could have melted a chocolate bar.

Coco sucked in a deep breath. “Sophie, this is Marla Eldridge, Daddy’s administrative assistant.”

“We’ve met at Amore.”

“Of course you have. How silly of me.” Coco raised her voice. “Gather round, everyone. I had these adorable lapel pins made for us in honor of the anniversary. This way, the guests will know who we are.”

Coco handed them out to her family members and employees. She’d even had one created for me. Formed in the shape of a miniature Amore chocolate bar, the name Amore was incorporated in a gold script, with the person’s name right beneath it

She crooked a finger at Mitch. “Come here, Mitch. Let me help you.”

Mitch grumbled, “Do I have to wear it? It will make a hole in the fabric of my suit.”

“Nonsense. They’re magnetic. See?” She showed him how the magnet in back pulled away from the pin.

He grudgingly allowed her to affix it to his lapel.

I was about to ask where Joe was, but we were all distracted when recipe winners began to walk through the gate into the yard. As soon as they realized their recipes were marked with their names, they acted like kids at an Easter egg hunt, spreading out in search of their names and chattering excitedly.

“Still want me to collect tickets?” asked Randy.

“Seems so formal,” said Coco. “Let’s dispense with that. You can remove anyone who causes trouble.”

“Try to smile, Coco, sweetheart,” muttered Mitch. “It’s showtime.” He strode out to the winners, congratulating them and admiring the caterer’s creativity with their recipes.

Marla followed him.

I turned to Coco. “Is Joe feeling all right? I haven’t seen him all day.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Yes. He’s fine. Thank you for asking.” She delivered the sentence like a preprogrammed robot.

I grabbed Coco by the arm and propelled her away from the others. In a whisper, I said, “I think you’d better tell me what’s going on.”

Dan overheard and joined us. “Tell her, Coco.”

She burst into tears. “Daddy’s missing.”

Dear Sophie,

My husband and I are inviting friends for a chocolate party. Dear hubby insists that one serves red wine with chocolate. I think a dry white wine would be better. We don’t want to be gauche! What does one serve with chocolate desserts?

—Chocolate Hostess in Partee, Arkansas

Dear Chocolate Hostess,

How about champagne? Happily, chocolate lends itself to both white and red wines. There are even some chocolate red wines. But offer your guests hot tea and coffee, too. They’re classic matches for chocolate cakes and pastries.

—Sophie

That simple sentence struck fear into my heart. “What do you mean Joe is missing?”

“No one has seen him since Thursday.”

“He was at the welcome dinner for the recipe winners.”

Coco nodded. “That was the last time any of us saw him. He came back here with Nonni, and”—she gulped and dabbed her eyes with a tissue—“Friday morning no one could find him. I’m just sick over it. I . . . I don’t know what to do. What could have happened to him?”

No wonder Coco was so distracted and emotional. I would be, too, if my father had disappeared. I had some ideas but none of them were of a happy nature. “Did you report it to the police?”

Her lips bunched up as though she would cry if she said another word. Suddenly her shoulders hunched.

Mitch joined us and slung an arm around his wife’s waist. “One . . . two . . . three. Everyone laugh.” He threw back his head and laughed aloud. “Quick, into the house.”

We obeyed like children.

When we reached the kitchen, Mitch said, “I thought we all agreed that this was not to go beyond family members.”

Coco winced. “She had to know, Mitch. She was asking about Daddy.”

“Joe’s not here to tell us what to do, but you know he would want us to entertain our guests and be gracious. If we try, no one will even notice his absence. Coco, sugar, fix your makeup, put on a happy face, and come on out to mingle with our guests.”

Coco ran up the stairs, no doubt to fix her face.

“Sophie”—he turned to me, wiping his brow—“we’re trying to keep this quiet for the time being. I can’t emphasize enough the importance of not leaking a word of this. For Joe’s safety, it’s vital that this be completely hush-hush.”

“Have you notified the police?”

“We have. I hope we can count on your cooperation?”

I nodded. “Yes, of course.”

“Thanks.” Mitch walked out of the room.

I took a minute to compose myself. I hadn’t expected anything like this. What could have happened to Joe? This
event had been planned for over a year. I thought he was looking forward to it. Surely he wouldn’t have left with so much going on. He was supposed to make a little speech tonight. I had so many questions. Where was Coco?

She probably needed a moment alone. I returned to the patio and mingled with the crowd, trying my best to smile. It wasn’t easy. I couldn’t help thinking that something terrible had happened to Joe. I spotted my ex-husband, Mars, and felt comforted by his presence. I flung my arms around him and planted a kiss on his cheek. Just my luck, that was the exact moment that Alex arrived.

He looked dashing in a dark gray suit, white shirt, and burgundy tie. I had never seen his cocoa brown hair even half an inch too long. I attributed his precision about his appearance to his days in the military. He would always walk with his chin held high and his back erect.

But his expression showed his displeasure at my friendliness toward my former husband. He turned and walked toward the gate like he was leaving.

I dodged through the crowd after him, “Alex! Alex!”

He paused for a moment and gazed at me.

“Alex, it’s not what it looked like. You see—”

“That’s the problem. I
do
see. I wish Mars would just marry Natasha and move on.” Alex strode out of the garden.

I watched him go. This wasn’t the place or the time for a fuss. I would have to explain to him later when he cooled off. My spirits dragging a little bit, I returned to Mars.

“Wow, what did I do to deserve that?” Mars acted surprised.

“I was just happy to see you.” I changed the subject in a hurry. “Have you tasted anything yet?”

“Only every single chocolate cake. I’m in heaven here.”

I giggled at him. Across the way, Dan was tasting chocolates. He nodded vigorously and fed one to Stella, looking far more comfortable than he had at dinner the night before. I
wondered if he was simply more at ease in the garden of his childhood home or if he found Stella’s presence reassuring.

Humphrey, whom I had known since childhood, joined us with a tiny piece of cake to taste. So blond that his hair was almost white, Humphrey had the physique of the classic ninety-pound weakling. Pale and thin, he had most surely taken a lot of teasing as a child. Humphrey had had a crush on me when we were in grade school. I had been involved with my own childhood obsessions and had never noticed. In recent years, he’d become a good and trusted friend. Who would have ever thought it would work out that way?

“How is everything?” I asked.

“I think I’m in love with Cheryl Maiorca. Have you tasted her cake? Do you know if she’s married?” He peered over my head in her direction.

“Happily married. But I suppose that proves the old adage that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

“So which of them isn’t married?” asked Humphrey.

“Stop that. This isn’t a dating game.”

“I do love women who can bake.”

He did. I wondered what happened to the cupcake baker he liked so much.

Bernie ambled toward us and offered me a miniature éclair. “I have to buy this cookbook. Some of these recipes are fantastic.”

“Not to worry. You’ll receive one in your favor bag when you leave. Think you might serve some of them at The Laughing Hound?”

“Most definitely. Cheryl Maiorca’s chocolate cake has to be the best I’ve ever tasted.”

“Um, I hate to burst your bubble but if everyone has the recipe, why would they order it at The Laughing Hound?” asked Mars.

“Right. Exactly when were
you
planning to bake it?” Bernie grinned at his friend.

The intoxicated Frenchman who had tried to coax me to his room two nights before leaned toward us. Once again, he wore his shirt unbuttoned with his tie, this time a cream-colored silk with a collage of truffles and chocolates on it, hanging open. He waved an empty champagne glass. “Did I hear an expat speaking over here?”

He didn’t seem to recognize me, and I thought it better not to remind him of his embarrassing behavior. Besides, I saw Natasha holding up a champagne glass with a fork positioned as though she planned to clink it and make a speech. I excused myself and hurried toward her.

As always, Natasha looked gorgeous. No amount of time in a gym would make clothes hang on me like they did on her. She wore a strapless dress in a bluish silver. The skirt crossed over the front in graceful folds, showing off her long, slender legs.

“Natasha!” I called. “I haven’t seen you all night.”

She kissed the air over each of my shoulders. “I’m sorry I can’t chat right now. I have to make a speech. I’m the official taster, you know.”

“I heard about that. I, uh, didn’t know it involved a speech, though.”

“Oh my, yes. You’re so funny, Sophie. What else would an official taster do?”

Aha. If I knew Natasha, she hadn’t eaten a bite. “So you tried all the dishes?”

The smile left her face. “Not
all
of them.”

It was mean of me, but I just couldn’t help myself. I bet she hadn’t tried a single one. “Isn’t that what a taster does? I thought you were supposed to give Amore an official report.”

Natasha swallowed hard. She leaned toward me. “Do you know how many calories that would be? All the butter and eggs and chocolate and cream?”

“I think they would be disappointed if you didn’t try
some
of the dishes.”

She looked slightly sick at the thought.

“Here comes Mitch. I’ll cover for you while you start tasting.”

I released a breath of relief when Natasha scuttled away. All I needed was for Natasha to make a speech. The Meranos would be furious with me if she made the event about herself.

Mitch did exactly what I had feared Natasha would do. A good thing she hadn’t upstaged him. I sucked in a deep breath and forced a smile. Something had to be very wrong. It wasn’t as though I knew Joe like a best friend, but he didn’t strike me as the kind of guy who missed a major event for his company.

Mitch clinked a fork against a champagne glass to get everyone’s attention. “I’m Mitch Ross. I think most of you know me by now. We are honored to have you as our guests in celebrating the sixtieth anniversary of Amore Chocolates. This is a very special year for us. It’s hard to imagine that we have been in business for six decades. We’re looking forward to our next sixty years. We thank our very special guests—the winners of our recipe contest—for coming to join in our celebration. Are you having fun?”

The crowd sang, “Yes!”

“Have you had enough chocolate?”

I heard a few yeses, but the majority shouted, “No!”

“Then party on!”

As they applauded, Mitch walked past me and whispered, “I think it’s going well. No one is thinking about Joe.”

My gaze drifted over to Coco and Nonni. That wasn’t totally accurate. Somebody was thinking about Joe all right.

Randy, the Amore employee, lingered near the champagne with Dan and Stella, while Vince, with the long ponytail, joined the lines of people tasting the food.

I headed for Nina who, unlike Natasha, truly was trying to sample everything. I wasn’t sure it was possible, but each tasting item was only a bite or two. She pointed out her favorites, propelling me to the cake table where Cheryl
Maiorca was the star of the hour, talking about her chocolate cake and how she lost one hundred pounds. Red highlights gleamed in her shoulder-length dark brown hair. She wore a short cotton sweater over a summer dress that nipped in at the waist, showing off her new figure. When we heard her say that she worked out at the gym three days a week, Nina choked and had a little coughing fit.

When she recuperated, Nina steered me to Lori Speer’s hand-dipped chocolates. I popped a creamy Kahlúa truffle in my mouth and almost swooned. She had made Irish cream, hazelnut, blackberry, and tiramisu truffles. I dared to eat another while Lori regaled the crowd with stories of her days as a police officer. It was hard to imagine the laughing woman with wild blond hair being a tough cop. How could she keep a trim figure with such fabulous chocolates around all the time?

I forced myself away from the chocolates and moseyed up to the drinks. Except for Joe’s absence, I thought the tasting was going well.

Natasha offered me half a cookie. “Ugh. I never want to see chocolate again.”

“Didn’t you like any of them?”

“None of them are anywhere near the caliber of the recipes I submitted. I see that they were in search of mundane, ordinary recipes. They should have said so.” Natasha turned her gaze to the house. “I always wanted your house, but this one is much more my style. Can you imagine living here? It’s so elegant. I would take out all those Palladian arches. They’re so passé. And have you been in the guesthouse? My word. That place needs to be ripped down. It’s so old. That dreadful stone fireplace and the beams in the ceilings. Some nice stainless steel and gray paint would spruce it up.”

“I think it’s beautiful just the way it is.”

“The main house would be like living in a palace. You just know the residents have a perfect life.” Natasha sighed.
“Not like me, struggling for every little thing, working my fingers to the bone.”

“I don’t know about that. I suspect Joe and his family worked hard for what they have.”

“Do you think I’ll ever be a success, Sophie?”

“I think you already are.” Whew. Dodged that one!

“Thank you. There’s a reason you’re my best friend. I wish Mars would see me the same way you do. Honestly, I’m beginning to wonder if he’s jealous of me. He tries to discourage all of my clever ideas. I’m really a business genius, like Martha.”

She didn’t have to tell me which Martha.

A couple of hours later, Nonni, Coco, and I took turns standing by the garden entrance to hand out favor bags as guests departed. Vince and Randy fetched the bags and brought them to us, a few at a time. By twilight, the favor bags were gone, and we were packing up.

As I headed for the patio, Mitch approached me. “Thank you for cooperating. We’d appreciate it if you kept the news about Joe to yourself. His life could depend on it.”

His last sentence hung in the air, frightening me. It wouldn’t have been right to ask questions. The family was clearly distraught by whatever had happened.

I assured him I would honor their request and keep Joe’s disappearance to myself. People would probably speculate about his absence tonight, though. It wouldn’t be long before it was the talk of the town.

Tables collapsed as the legs slammed down. Between the caterers and equipment supplier, the garden swarmed with people engaged in noisy activities.

I whisked the crystal candelabra away so it wouldn’t be a casualty as the tables were folded and removed. I carried it into the house, once again knocking on the door out of politeness even though I opened it and went inside.

Coco, Nonni, Stella, and Dan sat around the kitchen table
in such a deep discussion that I wasn’t sure they’d heard me. A tray of leftovers occupied the middle of the table.

Coco picked at the contents. “There’s not a doubt in my mind that they were his. Nonni agrees with me. But why come back now? Why come back at all?”

“For love, Coco. True love never dies,” said Nonni.

Dan spoke softly. “How can you say that, Nonni? That man has brought nothing but heartache to this family.”

“Excuse me,” I said. “Sorry to interrupt. Thanks for letting us use the candelabra. It made all the difference. I’ll just put it up here.” I placed it on the kitchen counter.