Better Than Chocolate Part 16

"I've been lucky enough to be married to two wonderful men," Muriel said, emotion giving her voice a sharp edge. "I'm certainly not going to run out and settle for someone simply because I'm lonely."

Dot raised both eyebrows. Translation: Really?

Of all the nerve. If this was support, she could do without it. Muriel was about to remember a pressing need at home and excuse herself when Maria came to take their drink orders.

"Hi, ladies. Time for another LAM meeting?"

"Yes," Pat said. "So bring on the champagne."

Maria nodded and hustled off and Pat smiled at Muriel. "We need to toast our newest member."

Newest member? Muriel had made no commitment. She'd just said she'd come to dinner. "Well, we'll see," she murmured. It would be impolite to leave now. She'd stay for one drink, wish them all well and then leave.

As they waited for the champagne, talk fell to mundane things like the exploits of Pat's grade-school-age grandsons, the new diet Olivia was on-something about seven days of vegetables followed by seven days of protein. Then the women began to discuss their businesses and Muriel felt like a fish out of water. These women were all competent businesswomen. She was...clueless. Another reason not to stay.

Maria brought the champagne and filled their gla.s.ses.

Pat lifted hers and said, "To Muriel. May lovely memories cradle you and new beginnings lead you."

"To strong women," Dot said, raising her gla.s.s to Muriel. "Harsh winds may bend us but we don't break."

"And though you're now on your own, may you always remember you're not alone," Olivia finished. "To the LAMs."

"To the LAMs," the other two echoed.

As they sipped their champagne Muriel drank in the words of their toasts. Maybe she would stay for dinner, after all. It would be rude to rush off.

Cecily was surprised to awake to the aroma of bacon frying. Mom couldn't be up already. And making breakfast? Really? She went to the kitchen and found her mother not only making breakfast but dressed. Mom's red eyes betrayed a secret morning crying jag but it was encouraging to see her up and functioning.

Cecily gave her a kiss. "That smells wonderful."

Her mother patted her cheek. "I'm sure you've got a million things to do today. I figured you could use a good breakfast."

"You thought right," Cecily said, and poured herself a cup of coffee.

Mom put bread in the toaster. "What's on your agenda for today?" she asked for the first time since Cecily had arrived.

"I'm going to print out pictures of all the men who've entered our Mr. Dreamy contest and hang them in the shop. And sometime before Bailey and I Skype this afternoon, I'd like to nail down a theme for the ball and start pulling together details on that."

Mom nodded and cracked eggs into a pan.

"I could use some creative help," Cecily ventured.

She'd already asked Mom to come up with some questions they could ask their Mr. Dreamy contestants, hoping to take advantage of her mother's writing skills and take her mind off her troubles, but had gotten a polite yet firm refusal so she wasn't sure why she was asking.

"Maybe I can come up with something," Mom said.

Other than the family brainstorming session, which she'd pretty much been forced into, it was the first time since Waldo's death that their mother had taken any interest in the life that was still going on around her. Cecily didn't know if her dinner out the night before with Pat's support group had anything to do with this-Mom hadn't shared details when she got home-but if it had, they all owed Pat chocolate for life.

"That would be great," she said. And Samantha would be really pleased to see Mom involved.

"I don't want you girls to think you're pulling this load alone," Mom said. She slid an egg onto a plate, added toast and handed it to Cecily.

"You're dealing with a lot," Cecily said, feeling suddenly guilty that she'd asked for help.

"We're all dealing with a lot," her mother said, "but together we're strong enough to knock down any obstacle. We'll get through this."

Mom was still the word queen. She could lay out a phrase like a comforting blanket. Cecily set down the plate and hugged her. "You're always there for us."

"Thank you, dear," her mother said in a choked voice, and hugged her back.

It was a perfect way to start the day and Cecily left for the shop wearing a smile along with her jeans, turtleneck and winter jacket.

Samantha wasn't at the office when she poked her head in to say hi. "She went over to Bavarian Brews," Elena said. "She's meeting Nia Walters."

Of course, the interview for the Mountain Sun that Cecily had set up for her. "Great. I'm going to put up a display of our Mr. Dreamy contestants down in the shop. Maybe I'll have her bring Nia over to see it when they're done."

"That's going to be some contest," Elena predicted. "Heidi said another couple of guys dropped off entries this morning. Not surprising, considering the prizes."

Bailey had outdone herself. "It feels like every woman in town is entering her man." Cecily smiled.

"Not me," Elena said with a snort. "Even if we could enter, I wouldn't. Mine wouldn't stand a chance with that big belly of his. He wanted to, though."

"What did you tell him?"

"That he was loco."

"Do you think we were loco to have this contest?"

"Loco like a fox. We'll sell lots of chocolates at this, eh? I'm going to be there and I'm bringing my sisters."

Samantha could squawk all she wanted, Cecily thought as she went downstairs to the shop, but this was going to pack Festival Hall. Hopefully, the ball and the other events would be equally successful.

"I never realized we had so many good-looking men in Icicle Falls," Heidi said, handing over pictures and entry forms from the latest entrants.

One photo was of Olivia's younger son, Brandon, posing in full ski regalia. He was a ski b.u.m and a bad boy, and he'd left a trail of broken hearts, including Bailey's, scattered from Icicle Falls clear to Ellensburg. Bailey had hoped to see him when she came up for Waldo's funeral but, thankfully, he'd been out of town. It looked like he was planning to be around for the festival, though, which could mean trouble for little sister.

Cecily studied the picture, trying to decide what movie star he resembled. That square chin and brown wavy hair made her think of Orlando Bloom but he definitely had Jake Gyllenhaal eyes, and a lean Jude Lawstyle body. She finally concluded that he was simply a composite of gorgeous.

And here was... She blinked. Blake Preston? Seriously? The man had his nerve.

"What's he doing in here?" she asked Heidi.

Heidi replied, "Why shouldn't he be?" reminding Cecily that their company troubles weren't common knowledge. Thank G.o.d.

"It doesn't seem very dignified for a bank manager," she said, improvising fast.

"Tell that to his grandma," Heidi said. "She thinks he's gorgeous. And he is."

It was sad that such a handsome man had such an ugly heart. But not unusual. Most of the men Cecily had met were Shallow Sams who didn't consider their heart their most important organ.

She took the picture to the side of the shop where she was setting up her display and called her sister. "You'll never guess who's entered our contest."

"Who?"

"Blake Preston."

There was a charged silence on the other end of the phone. Then Samantha exploded. "Oh, for the love of chocolate. Of all the rotten, two-faced, low-cla.s.s-"

"That about sums it up," Cecily agreed. "Should I lose his picture?"

"No, save it. I might want to throw darts at it."

"At least you can tell Nia we've got the blessing of the local movers and shakers."

"I'd like to shake him, right off the top of Sleeping Lady Mountain," Samantha grumbled. "Oh, here comes Nia now. Gotta go."

Cecily ended the call and got to work, still mulling over this latest development.

She'd barely started when the shop bell tinkled and in walked Billy Williams, who worked at the River Bend guest ranch. One of their first entrants, Bill Will, as everyone called him, was another local bad boy and Cecily had run with his crowd for a brief time in high school. She'd grown up but it appeared Billy hadn't. Heidi had caught Cecily up on his exploits in one succinct sentence: He loves to hang out at the Man Cave. That said it all, considering who owned the place.

"Hi, Bill Will," Heidi greeted him. "Did you come in for some chocolate?"

"I came in to give Samantha a treat." He pulled off his cowboy hat to reveal tousled chestnut curls. "Hey, Cec," he said to Cecily. "Heard you were back in town."

"I am and I'm really busy with the festival," she said before he could offer to show her a hot time.

He shrugged good-naturedly. "So where's your sis?"

"She's over at Bavarian Brews."

He nodded. "Okay. Guess I'll go find her there."

"What do you need?" Cecily asked. And what was this mysterious treat? She'd never stopped to consider that anyone would try to bribe the judges.

"Oh, nothing. Just thought I'd show her why I'm the best Mr. Dreamy in town. See you girls around." Then he was out the door.

The two women exchanged looks. Bill Will was a bit of an exhibitionist.

"Should we warn Samantha?" Heidi asked.

Bill Will putting on a show would be good publicity. Whatever he planned to do was bound to spice up that article Nia was writing for the Sun. "Let's keep it a surprise."

Samantha and Nia had settled at a corner table with their lattes when in walked Billy Williams, a beefcake poster come to life in tight-fitting jeans and a s.h.i.+rt that was about to burst from straining to hold in well-developed pecs. His cowboy hat was pushed back on his head and he was carrying a rope.

"Samantha Sterling. I got something to show you, girl," he called across the coffee shop, pulling all eyes to himself.

And there were plenty of eyes to pull. Shop owners and retail clerks in search of a morning caffeine hit stood in the order and pickup lines. Three middle-aged women occupied one table, while at another four young moms with babies in their laps or parked next to them in strollers were looking at Billy like he was a tray of truffles marked down fifty percent. And at another table sat-oh, no-Hildy Johnson and Lila Ward, both wearing disapproving frowns. Oh, boy, this couldn't be good.

Sure enough. Now Bill Will had his rope out and was swinging a la.s.so over his head. And-oh, please, G.o.d, no-breaking into song, belting out "Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy." He began to do a hippity-hop b.u.mp and grind in her direction, and the table of young moms clapped and let out whoops of encouragement. Even the baristas stopped production and the hiss of the espresso machines paused, leaving the floor to Bill Will.

He was making the most of it, too. Now he was at Samantha's table. She slid down her seat, wis.h.i.+ng she could make herself invisible. That turned out to be a mistake because it only got her up close and personal in a truly embarra.s.sing way as Bill Will b.u.mped and pumped. And-oh, no-Nia Walters, girl reporter, now had her trusty camera out and was snapping blackmail pictures while Bill Will went at it as if he expected Samantha to put a five-dollar bill down his jeans. Nia wasn't the only one. Everyone with a cell phone was recording this moment for posterity.

She tried to look anywhere but at Billy and that proved to be another mistake, because her embarra.s.sed gaze drifted to the door.

Why, of all the coffee joints in all the world, do you keep walking into mine?

Chapter Thirteen.

It's not so hard to find where you belong in this world. You belong where you're needed.

-Muriel Sterling, Knowing Who You Are: One Woman's Journey Bill Will ended his routine by throwing his hat in the air and letting out a big "Yeehaw!" Hildy sat watching in shock while Lila scowled like an angry schoolmarm, but the rest of the crowd gave him a round of applause.

There was also plenty of laughter and Samantha felt as if her whole face was on fire. She managed a cool, "That was quite a show, Bill."

He grinned. "Just wanted you to see your future Mr. Dreamy in action." He turned his full-watt smile on Nia. "Am I gonna be in the paper?"

"Definitely," Nia said, and it was all Samantha could do not to swear.

One of the moms called him over to their table and Bill Will swaggered off. Samantha couldn't help sneaking a look in Blake's direction. He'd moved to the order counter and was keeping his distance.

He should. Coming over to comment on his compet.i.tion would make him even more hypocritical than he already was.

She turned to Nia. "You're not really going to run that picture, are you?"

"Of course. People will love it."

"But the festival is about so much more than the Mr. Dreamy contest," Samantha protested.

"Don't worry. I know that," Nia a.s.sured her. "Now, tell me how you got the idea and what we can expect."

Samantha launched into her spiel and Nia typed away on her laptop. By the time they were done, Samantha had infected herself with a dose of excitement even greater than what she'd pumped into Nia.

Then she saw Bill Will making his way toward them, probably for a repeat performance. "I've got so much to do," she said. "I'd better get back to the office."

Nia had seen him coming, too. "Yeah, you'd better," she agreed. "And lock the door."