Christmas Sweets

by Joanne Fluke

  “I’ve heard of Sammie Wong. He had a show here at Four Arts,” said Chris. “It will be interesting to see what he does with the jewels. When are they supposed to arrive?”

  Elizabeth was tired and the wine wasn’t helping. “I don’t know, I guess I’ll find out tomorrow,” she said, stifling a yawn.

  “You’re beat,” he said, laughing. “What do you say we call it a night? I’ve got to catch an early flight to Seattle for a conference tomorrow. But save Saturday night for me?”

  “Okay.” Elizabeth kept her voice cool so as not to reveal her fluttering heart. “It’s a date.”

  * * *

  But when Saturday finally rolled around, Layla insisted she needed Elizabeth to finalize the seating plan for the Blingle Bells Ball and she had to cancel her date. “I’m so sorry,” she told Chris, breaking the bad news on the phone, “but I have to work tonight.”

  “You’re working an awful lot,” Chris grumbled.

  “Tell me about it. It’s temporary, just until this Gruber event is over.”

  “So what all do you have to do? Fluff the pillows in the Presidential Suite?”

  “No, housekeeping does that. It’s mostly helping the party planner. She had me trimming awful fake white Christmas trees for days, and wrapping gift baskets and making plans for special events including a celebrity tennis match and a golf tournament and studio visits with artists. You know, I thought I knew how the other half lives, but this isn’t the other half, it’s the one percent!”

  “You must be getting some time off,” Chris said. “What about tomorrow? It’s Sunday.”

  “Actually, I am off tomorrow, but I’ve got to clean house and do laundry and buy some groceries. I’ve been working ten and eleven hours a day.”

  “Okay, we’ll grocery shop,” Chris said. “It’ll be fun. Let’s say I’ll pick you up at one, we’ll get a late brunch, and afterward we’ll go to Publix, and then I’ll cook dinner for you.”

  Elizabeth couldn’t stop smiling; this guy was too good to be true. “See you tomorrow,” she said.

  Later that afternoon Elizabeth was surprised when Chris paid her a visit at work. She was at her desk, arranging for limousines to pick up guests at the airport, when she looked up and saw Chris standing there.

  “I couldn’t wait until tomorrow,” he said. “How’s it going?”

  “Crazy, crazy. I know it’s hard to believe, but there’s a terrible shortage of limousines in Palm Beach.”

  “I could offer my services,” he said with a grin.

  “I don’t think a motorcycle will cut it, not with these folks.”

  He seated himself, propping one ankle on the other knee. “So when is this party starting?”

  “The guests are arriving on the sixteenth—that’s next Friday—but Jonah and Noelle are coming earlier, to get ready.” She sighed. “And then there’s those darn jewels.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Chris’s voice was studiedly casual. “What’s that got to do with you?” he asked, gazing into her eyes.

  “Well, I’ve got to schedule the delivery and make sure hotel security has the details,” Elizabeth said, thinking perhaps she was saying too much. “This thing is turning into a nightmare.”

  Chris looked concerned. “What do you mean? Problems with Brinks?”

  Elizabeth decided she wasn’t going to say anything more about the jewels. “It’s just all so over the top. Layla—she’s the party planner—well, the way she acts you’d think this was life and death and it’s really just a rich guy showing off. There are people who are really in terrible situations—dreadful flooding in Indonesia and in Africa they’re starving and getting raped and killed by rogue militias. But Layla seems to think the world will end if the vichyssoise isn’t chilled correctly or the roses are the wrong color.”

  Chris looked amused. “So you’re a closet revolutionary?”

  Elizabeth gave him a crooked grin. “This thing is turning me into one, that’s for sure.”

  “A revolutionary with access to all that supersecret, confidential information about the masters of the universe. You could be dangerous.”

  Remembering Wrayburn’s warnings, Elizabeth grew wary. What did Chris know about the database? And why was he even mentioning it? “Oh, I’m far too insignificant to see much of anything except whether the guests prefer plain or sparkling mineral water.”

  Chris laughed. “Well, I guess I better let you get back to work.” He stood up, then leaned down and whispered in her ear, “See you tomorrow.”

  His warm lips brushed her ear and she wished for a moment that she could lean against him, like she had on the motorcycle, feeling his body against hers. Then she remembered where she was and gave him a businesslike smile. “See you then,” she said.

  The moment he was gone, Toni dashed across the lobby. “What was that all about?” she demanded.

  “He just stopped by to say hi,” Elizabeth said. She knew she was blushing and it was making her furious; she didn’t want Toni to know how much she liked Chris.

  “He’s awfully cute,” Toni said, “but I don’t think he’s really a member of the Kennedy clan. Did you hear about that guy in Boston who was pretending to be a Rockefeller?”

  “I did,” Elizabeth said. It was all over the news, you really couldn’t miss it. But Chris wasn’t like that, at least she didn’t think he was. For one thing, he’d never actually said he was a member of the Kennedy clan.

  “The funny thing is, that guy never claimed to be a rich Rockefeller. He just sort of let people assume it,” Toni continued, as if reading her mind.

  “Well, I don’t care if he’s JFK’s great-nephew or not,” Elizabeth said. “I’m just getting to know him.”

  “I’m only saying this ’cause I think he might be as fake as that Rolex he wears.”

  “It’s fake? How can you tell?”

  “I can tell,” Toni said. “And those polo shirts he wears—they’re from Target.”

  “So he’s careful with his money. That’s not a crime,” Elizabeth insisted. But as she said the words, she remembered how uncomfortable she’d felt when Chris mentioned the database. Maybe Toni was on to something and he didn’t really like her but was only trying to use her for some purpose of his own.

  “I just think you’d better be careful, that’s all,” Toni said, hurrying back to the reception desk.

  Elizabeth went back to her list of limo companies but her thoughts were miles away. Toni had upset her and she figured that was her intention. She was probably just jealous because Elizabeth had a boyfriend. Or did she? They’d only had two dates, actually one and a half, and here she was falling head over heels, struggling to keep her mind on her work when all she wanted to think about was that kiss. That one kiss.

  She was being ridiculous, she told herself. It was never good to let a guy know you really liked him. If she kept this up she’d scare him off. It was better to play hard to get, that’s what everybody said. She decided she was simply going to put Chris Kennedy completely out of her mind. She’d throw herself into her work and wouldn’t give him a single thought until one o’clock tomorrow.

  But when Sunday dawned, she was in a state of high anticipation. She quickly tidied her little apartment, showered and dried her hair, and finally confronted the problem of what to wear. Shorts and a tank top? Would that be too revealing? What about a skirt? No good on a motorcycle! Jeans again? Then the phone rang and she learned she didn’t have to decide what to wear after all.

  “I’m really sorry,” he said. “Something’s come up and I have to go out of town.”

  Elizabeth’s heart fell to the floor and landed with a thud. “Oh,” was all she could say.

  “I was really looking forward to being with you,” he said.

  “It’s too bad,” she said, determined not to let him know how disappointed she was. “But I really have a lot to do anyway.”

  “I’ll call you when I get back, okay?”

  “If you want,” she said, trying
to sound as if it didn’t matter to her whether he called or not.

  “Oh, I want,” he said, in a thick voice.

  “Have a good trip,” she said, hanging up and grabbing a handful of tissues as the tears started to flow. Finally wiping her eyes, she decided she didn’t know what was worse: Chris calling off their date or having to admit it to Toni on Monday morning.

  * * *

  As she expected, Toni couldn’t wait to ask if she’d had a good time on her date with Chris when they met in the locker room.

  Elizabeth opened her locker, took out her makeup bag, and concentrated on applying a fresh coat of lip gloss. “Never happened,” she said with a shrug, waving the little wand.

  “Why not? What happened?”

  Elizabeth pressed her lips together, then examined the effect in the mirror on her locker door. “He had a business trip.”

  “Or he met somebody else,” Toni said.

  “Or he met somebody else,” Elizabeth repeated with a shrug. Honestly, she thought, she ought to get an Academy Award for acting.

  Toni’s eyebrows rose in astonishment. “Aren’t you upset?”

  “It was just a couple of dates,” Elizabeth said. “And frankly, I’m too busy to worry about it. You know, the jewels are coming today. It’s going to be a madhouse around here.”

  The arrival of the Imperial Parure was supposed to be a highly guarded secret. Jonah Gruber had outbid an Arab sheik and a Japanese industrialist for the set, which included an emerald and ruby necklace with a removable pendant featuring the twenty-three-carat Star of Bethlehem diamond that could also be worn as a brooch, plus a tiara, two bracelets, and a ring. His winning bid was many millions above the presale estimate and security was naturally a top concern. Mr. Dimitri had stressed that fact at a special staff meeting, and Dan Wrayburn had bombarded employees with memos threatening immediate dismissal to anyone who leaked information about the jewels. Nevertheless, Elizabeth noticed a handful of reporters and photographers gathering outside the hotel doors shortly before the armored truck was due to arrive.

  “How did they find out?” she asked Layla, who was on hand for the delivery.

  “Probably Gruber tipped them off himself,” she replied.

  “Why would he do that?”

  “He paid a lot for those baubles and he wants to get his money’s worth in publicity. He’s got a deal with Town and Country magazine; Sammie Wong’s going to photograph Noelle wearing the jewels. She’s actually here and I need you to help out.”

  This was news to Elizabeth. “She’s here? Now?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Yup. We took advantage of the jewelry delivery to sneak her in through the hotel garage. She’s waiting up in the Royal Suite, but that’s top secret. Don’t you breathe a word of it to that crowd out there.”

  “I wouldn’t,” Elizabeth said.

  “Good.” Layla handed her a sheaf of papers. “This is a press release. You can distribute it once the jewels are secured. Then I want you to meet me upstairs in the Royal Suite.”

  The moment the elevator doors closed behind Layla the armored truck rolled up and the media gang went into action, snapping photos and yelling questions to the guards as they unloaded the metal-clad case containing the jewels. Extra doormen, actually security guards dressed as doormen, blocked access to the lobby, and Dan Wrayburn escorted the armored truck guards to Mr. Dimitri’s office, where the hotel safe was located. Once she was sure the recently reinforced office door was tightly closed and the jewels safe inside, Elizabeth stepped through the entrance, distributing the press releases to the crowd of reporters who were clamoring for information outside. They still peppered her with questions: “Did you see the jewels? Are they really worth forty-seven million? Is the hotel worried about jewel thieves?”

  “It’s all in the press release,” she said, ducking back inside and leaving the doormen to handle the crowd. Then she was hurrying upstairs to the Royal Suite, her special knowledge bubbling inside her. She was one of the few who knew that Noelle Jones was actually in the hotel; she was going to see, and perhaps even handle, the incredibly valuable Imperial Parure. If only the folks back home in Tinker’s Cove, Maine, could see her now!

  When Layla answered her knock and opened the door, Elizabeth had to restrain herself from exclaiming “Wow!” The hotel’s four best suites, the Imperial, the Royal, the Majestic, and the Presidential, never failed to impress. Over fifteen hundred square feet apiece, they were bigger than her apartment, and included luxurious bedrooms, a living room complete with wet bar, a dining area, and numerous balconies with ocean views. The decor was elegant and restrained, so as not to compete with the fabulous views.

  But even more breathtaking than the view, was the Imperial Parure, which had arrived ahead of her and was displayed in its case on a white lacquered coffee table. Elizabeth couldn’t take her eyes off the rubies and emeralds. There must have been hundreds all told. And the huge diamond glittered so brightly in the sunlight that poured through the windows.

  Sammie Wong was beside himself with excitement. “This is going to be great,” he said, and Elizabeth could almost see the wheels turning in that shaved head, behind those bright, black eyes, imagining the photo possibilities. He was a tiny man, dressed in a black turtleneck and loose pants, bouncing around on bright aqua spring-loaded athletic shoes. “I think we should have the jewels in incongruous settings. . . .”

  “Like the bathtub?” Noelle suggested. She was a stunning woman, with a curvy body, luscious red lips, and long black hair that tumbled halfway down her back. She was dressed in a white knit dress that clung to her figure and had discarded a fabulous white fur coat, which lay in a luxurious heap on the carpeted floor.

  “We’ll see,” Sammie said, picking up the emerald and ruby tiara and holding it up to admire it. Then he set it gently on Noelle’s head.

  “Ohmigod!” she exclaimed. “This thing weighs a ton!”

  “Bear up, dearie,” Sammie said, disregarding her complaint and hanging the enormous necklace around her neck. The huge Star of Bethlehem diamond nestled just above her breasts, its facets catching the light and splashing the walls and ceiling with patches of shimmering color.

  “Look! It’s a rainbow!” Sammie exclaimed, pointing at the scraps of vibrant color that danced with Noelle’s slightest movements. Then he slipped the ring with its huge emerald on her finger, and wrapped each wrist in a band of alternating rubies and emeralds. Noelle stood perfectly still in front of the pale green silk draperies that screened the room’s French doors, and Elizabeth thought she looked like one of those bejeweled royals in an Elizabethan painting. All she was lacking was a lace ruff and a long skirt.

  Sammie was already snapping photos, but this was only the beginning. Lugging bags of clothing and props, Elizabeth followed the photographer and his subject through the hotel as Noelle was photographed in the jewels and a swimsuit at the hotel pool, in the jewels and a Chanel suit at a table in the hotel restaurant, in the jewels and an evening gown in the ballroom.

  Finally they returned to the Royal Suite, where Noelle started stripping off the jewels and tossing them on the bed. “Whew,” she said, “those suckers are heavy, and that necklace poked into my skin. Look!” Pointing with a manicured finger, she indicated a slight, whitened dent on her tanned chest, where the Star of Bethlehem had been.

  “You poor thing!” Layla commiserated. “But we’re done. You did great and now you can rest.”

  “No, not done,” Sammie said, pulling back the bedcovers and tossing the pillows into a pile, which he covered with the white fur coat.

  Noelle smiled slyly. “I think I know what you have in mind.”

  Sammie winked. “Okay with you? You strip?”

  “Sure,” Noelle shrugged, slipping out of the terry cloth robe she was wearing and casually arranging her naked body on the fur-covered pillows.

  “Beautiful, beautiful,” Sammie cooed, lovingly placing the tiara on her head, and once again wrapping her arms in the
enormous bracelets.

  Elizabeth was stunned, watching the casual way in which Noelle stripped and allowed Sammie to arrange her body in various poses.

  “Don’t look so surprised,” Layla said, amused at her reaction. “She’s done this before.”

  “She has?” Elizabeth whispered, clutching the terry robe.

  “Sure. She used to be a porn star. She did it all in front of the camera—and I mean everything.”

  Elizabeth’s jaw dropped. “Really?”

  “And she was a centerfold for Playboy magazine.”

  “Where I come from, some people never take their long johns off all winter.”

  Now it was Layla’s turn to be horrified. “Really?”

  “Just joking,” said Elizabeth, who was growing more comfortable with the situation. If Noelle wasn’t bothered, she decided, she shouldn’t be either. And she could see why Sammie was so enthusiastic; the contrasting textures of Noelle’s flawless caramel skin, the lush white fur, and the glittering jewels made for fabulous visuals.

  Finally, the staccato clicking of the camera stopped, and Sammie’s assistant handed him a towel, which the exhausted photographer used to wipe his brow.

  “About time,” his subject declared, yanking the tiara off her head and tossing it on the floor. The necklace, bracelets, and ring soon followed as she stretched, sauntered casually up to Elizabeth and grabbed the robe, then continued on into the bathroom, still entirely nude.

  Getting a nod from Layla, Elizabeth scrambled to pick up the jewels and replace them in the case. She could hardly believe she was handling them, actually touching these amazing gems worth millions of dollars. She laid one bracelet across her wrist, examining the effect, imagining what it would be like to wear them all. Then, afraid she would be seen, she tucked the bracelet into its compartment. All the jewelry fit beautifully into the hollows of the velvet-lined case designed to hold each piece.... All except the huge emerald ring, which seemed to be missing. It had been there a moment ago, Elizabeth thought, panicking. She’d seen Noelle pull it off. Where was it?