The Chocolate Comeback (Love at the Chocolate Shop Book 7)

by Roxanne Snopek

  *

  In the hospital parking lot, before DeeDee started the car, before she could chicken out or forget or convince herself that it was too late to call, she picked up her cell phone and keyed in the number from Cynthia’s notebook for Maya’s Models.

  She hated eating crow. But she’d earned this meal. She’d do it. For Cynthia.

  DeeDee pressed the button and waited. She hoped calling after business hours wouldn’t annoy the woman.

  “Maya Gallagher. How may I help you?”

  “Maya. It’s Deirdre Cash. I don’t know if you remember me—”

  “DeeDee! Of course I remember you. I’ve been following your career. I’d love to buy you a coffee sometime and hear about it. Are you back for good, or just a break?”

  Whatever she’d been expecting, it wasn’t this. Maya sounded friendly, her interest genuine. But if she’d really been following DeeDee’s career, then she knew exactly how badly things had gone.

  “Uh, my plans aren’t… I don’t have… I mean…” DeeDee gave a nervous bark of laughter. “My agent and I are currently on a break, so it’s safe to say I’m here for the foreseeable future.”

  She had no idea why that had spilled out.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry,” Maya said. “That’s rough, but by no means insurmountable. If there’s anything I can do, please ask.”

  DeeDee tilted her head. “Maya, that’s very generous of you. I wasn’t… polite to you. You know. Before.”

  Maya was quiet on the other end of the line.

  DeeDee straightened her shoulders and swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her mistakes. She didn’t deserve Maya’s understanding, much less her forgiveness.

  “Like I said, I’ve been following your career,” Maya repeated. “You were young and… well. We’ve all been there.”

  “You never ended up on Tool Barn flyers,” DeeDee burst out. “Or the Corn and Callus Palace. Maya, I’m sorry I was such a snot to you. And I do need to ask a favor of you. It’s about Cynthia. I know you told her you don’t have anyone available for her show, but please, is there anything you can do to help? She’s… she’s in the hospital. She was pregnant with twins, and she just lost one of them. I promised I’d fix this, and I’m begging you to help us out.”

  “Poor Cynthia, that’s awful. But I truly have no one available. I’ve got plans myself that weekend, though I’ll stop in if I can. I’m so sorry. Give my best to Cynthia and if I think of anything, I’ll let you know immediately, okay?”

  That was that. No models. DeeDee had tried, and while her heart was lighter for having apologized to Maya—for behavior she’d tried to forget—she hadn’t solved Cynthia’s problem.

  She returned to Maddie’s apartment, hugged Clementine, poured herself a glass of wine, and curled up on the floor in the spare room.

  Her phone buzzed.

  Isaac: How’s your sister?

  DeeDee hesitated. She hadn’t expected him to ask. Was he just being polite, or did he really want to know?

  DeeDee: OK, I think. She was carrying twins. Lost one. V sad. Baby2 OK, but they’re watching closely. Lots of monitors, etc. Xing fingers.

  No response. TMI? Probably. She’d made him uncomfortable now. Oh well. Too bad. It was nice of him to check up.

  DeeDee: Thx 4 asking. Thx 4 the flowers, 2. That was very nice of u. She appreciates it. Sorry I left u in the lurch. C u tomorrow.

  She tossed her phone aside and sipped her wine, wishing Maddie was home. But she, Chad, and their mom had insisted on taking shifts throughout the night, and Maddie wouldn’t be home until two am.

  It had been hard, watching Mom with Cynthia. Loss had sharpened their mom’s reactions to crisis, making her brittle with fear. Apparently, Maddie was right; Mom had been more shaken up by Norm’s heart attack than DeeDee realized.

  More guilt. She hugged her knees and rested her head on her arms. She wanted to get into Maddie’s car and drive, just drive, until all of this went away.

  Her phone buzzed again, making her jump.

  Isaac: Spend tomorrow with your family. Take the week, if you want. I’ve made alternative arrangements for Mark. Don’t worry about us. He’ll miss you, but he’ll be fine.

  Oh. She hadn’t expected that.

  The tears DeeDee had managed to control at the hospital got away from her now. She didn’t know why Isaac’s kindness touched her so much. Offering time off was just decent, wasn’t it? And everyone sent flowers. Cynthia’s room would look like a freaking hothouse nursery within a matter of days.

  Isaac was a decent guy, behaving decently.

  And not just to Cynthia.

  To her.

  DeeDee: U sure?

  Isaac: Yes. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.

  The tears flowed faster. She didn’t want Isaac to be a great guy. Didn’t want to like him. She definitely didn’t want him to like her.

  DeeDee: Thank you. I’ll let u know how it goes.

  Isaac: Hug your sister for me. Unless that’s weird. Then take it for yourself.

  DeeDee laughed through her tears. She imagined Isaac’s arms around her, remembering his solidness, how those lean, hard muscles had caught her when she’d fallen against him.

  DeeDee: It’s a little weird. I could use a hug rt now so I’ll be selfish and keep it. Thx.

  Isaac: Selfish. Ha. Get some sleep.

  She texted him a yawning face and set her phone aside. It was nice, having him to talk to.

  Isaac was a friend, she realized with wonderment. It was tempting to think of taking things further. After all, he was hot, she was hot, proximity, opportunity—she’d never needed anything more.

  But she suspected Isaac wasn’t the kind of guy who had flings. Eventually, he’d find out that she was all wrapping and no gift and that, she couldn’t bear.

  Better to keep things friendly and avoid disappointment.

  She pushed Isaac from her mind, tossed Cynthia’s notebook onto the desk, crawled into bed, and pulled the covers over her head. Where else could she find models on such short notice?

  DeeDee drifted off to sleep in the wee hours, only to be awakened by a dream in which Mark was shambling down a spot-lit runway, wearing his ratty khakis, the mustard-stained T-shirt, and a ball cap.

  A river of chocolate ran alongside the white-draped runway. Mark squatted down, dipped his finger in, and licked it off.

  “Just one,” he called to DeeDee.

  Mrs. Hatcher stood at the sidelines, her arms crossed. Sage cheered beside him, along with Cynthia, who carried a tightly swaddled Yorkshire terrier puppy in her arms, and Chad, who was on horseback. Mark ran back and forth. Suddenly, he was flying, and Abe and Paulie were flying with him, and everyone was laughing and there, at the end, stood Isaac, looking at her, his grin brighter than the spotlight.

  Then the night sky gave way to the light of dawn peeking around the bedroom drapes.

  DeeDee blinked and rubbed her eyes. She sat up.

  She had it.

  This was what would save Cynthia’s show. She turned on the bedside light, grabbed for a notebook and pen, and began scribbling madly.

  Chapter Twelve

  By the time DeeDee had her idea fleshed out the next morning, Cynthia had been discharged. The bleeding had stopped, she wasn’t having contractions, and the baby’s heartbeat was strong.

  What a relief! DeeDee raced out to Anders Run to meet with Cynthia, grateful that Isaac had given her the time off.

  She was still warm from the smile she’d seen on his face in her dream and couldn’t wait to tell him what she was planning. He’d love it. Mark would love it. It would be perfect, for everyone.

  DeeDee held tightly to the steering wheel of Maddie’s car as it rumbled over the bridge on the road to the Anders brothers’ ranch.

  She was no dummy. She knew that being without a father figure for most of her childhood had left both her and Maddie with issues around male approval. Their dating history could be s
ummed up as quantity, not quality, and a good time, not a long time.

  Until Maddie met Mick, of course.

  DeeDee wasn’t jealous. She was happy for Maddie. She was. Mick seemed like a great guy and with the amount of time Maddie spent out at his cabin, it appeared their relationship was heading toward permanence.

  Imagine that. Her twin, heading toward marriage. Maybe even kids, one day.

  DeeDee had never played with baby dolls, never doodled some boy’s last name next to hers, never sought happily ever after. Happy right now, that had been her only goal.

  Clothes and hair and makeup had been her girly-girl outlet, not smoochy crushes.

  And now, there was Isaac.

  Isaac and his smile and his flowers.

  She was supposed to be focused on Mark… but it was Isaac that filled her thoughts.

  Isaac. Her friend.

  Her employer.

  When she reached Anders Run, DeeDee found Cynthia sitting in a recliner beside the window, a soft fluffy afghan, and an even softer, fluffier cat, on her lap.

  “We’re all excited to hear what you’ve come up with, DeeDee,” Cynthia said. “Even Frohike. Look at him, purring like a lawn mower.”

  DeeDee shook her finger. “You are not allowed to get excited. You may listen with mild interest. You may even participate in the conversation, but I expect you to sound like a slightly stoned yoga instructor high on almond milk. You got that?”

  Cynthia smiled and let her eyes go dreamy. “Ten-four, sister. I’m digging it. Chad’s in the shower. He’ll be right out. Eric and Logan are just outside.”

  “Good.” DeeDee put her notebook on the gorgeous, custom-built dining room table. Chad’s house had improved a great deal since she’d last seen it. It had been barely habitable then, an ancient, unloved farmhouse that was part of the property he and Eric had inherited from a grandfather they’d never met.

  “Hey, DeeDee.” Eric came into the room and kissed her cheek. A moment later, Logan Stafford did the same.

  Logan had broken a lot of ground when he put troubled, underachieving high school students to work restoring derelict heritage houses. Marrying Samara and adopting her daughter Jade, who was on the Autism spectrum, had only furthered his passion for working with people with special needs.

  DeeDee glanced at her watch. “Tell Chad to quit primping. He’s pretty enough already.”

  “Right here.” Chad emerged from the master bedroom down the hall, his hair wet from the shower, still wiping his hands on a towel. He bent over Cynthia and gave her a nuzzle. “How are you feeling, honey?”

  “I’m fine, the baby’s fine, we’re all fine. For the ten millionth time. I’m sitting here on my butt, not doing anything.” Cynthia touched his chin, and DeeDee looked away from the intimacy of the moment. She was glad her sister had found happiness. Cyn deserved it. She was truly the best person DeeDee had ever known.

  “I’m also bored.” Cynthia pouted. “I’m going to miss so much, stuck in the house here. I feel like such a diva.”

  “Just how I want you,” Chad said.

  “You say diva like it’s a bad thing,” DeeDee said. “Anyway, about the models.”

  “Wait. There’s tea and treats in the kitchen,” Cynthia said. “Chad, can you bring them out?”

  Copper Mountain Chocolates, naturally. Good. That worked right into her plan.

  “Did M-Maya come through?” Cynthia asked.

  DeeDee took a deep breath. “No. She feels badly about it, but it is what it is.”

  “We’re s-s-screwed.” Cynthia stroked her cat and blinked hard.

  “Go to your happy place, Cyn.” DeeDee held out her hand. “I’ve already figured it out.”

  “I hope so.” Chad’s voice warned that he’d do whatever was necessary to protect his woman.

  “Here’s my plan.” She sucked in a breath. “I’d like to use ordinary people as models. The people of Marietta. Men, women, kids, teens, seniors. And because this is a project to benefit people with special needs, why not include them as our models? You know Mark Litton, the Down syndrome guy I work with?” She glanced at the guys. “He’s a great sport, and I think he’d love it. He’s got a couple of friends that would probably join him.”

  “Friends?” Logan asked.

  DeeDee shrugged. “People he works with at the May Bell Care Home.”

  Logan exchanged a glance with Eric and Chad.

  “What? Mark’s in the day program there a few hours a week.” DeeDee rolled her eyes. “The woman who runs it is a little head-master-ish for me, but Isaac says it provides him with social and vocational enrichment.” She put air quotes around the words.

  “I’m sure Isaac wants the best for his brother.” Logan chose his words carefully. “Sheltered workshops aren’t known for prioritizing individual needs.”

  “Or even acknowledging them,” Eric agreed. “Which is why we’re hoping to provide an alternative. Who else do you think would participate, DeeDee?”

  Isaac kept hoping Mark would adjust. But what if it wasn’t Mark who needed to adjust?

  “I bet Rosie Linn could get Brant and his sister Sara Maria to join in, too.” She glanced at Logan. “Jade would be perfect, if you and Samara agree.”

  Logan pursed his lips. “Could she bring Bob?”

  Jade went nowhere without her service dog, a retriever-cross she’d named Bob, despite the dog being female.

  “Why not? Variety is the spice, and all that. Modeling shouldn’t be restricted to…” She glanced down at herself, then shrugged. “People like me. Everyone should have a chance in the spotlight.”

  She forced herself to stop talking and let them think. Clenching her jaw shut, she listened to her pulse beat double time to the tick of the clock on the mantel. Patience, so not her strong suit.

  “I like it,” Logan said eventually. “I’ll let my students know.”

  “Whew!” DeeDee’s breath rushed out with a whoosh. “That’s one. Eric?”

  Eric nodded. “I like the message of inclusivity. It fits our brand.”

  “Chad?”

  “I agree. Honey?” Chad glanced at Cynthia, awaiting her response.

  “DeeDee.” Cynthia’s eyes shimmered and her lip wobbled. “You are the most brilliant, beautiful, fabulous sister a girl could ever ask for. Come. I want to kiss, you but I’m too high on almond milk and human bliss.”

  DeeDee buzzed a little, herself.

  “Don’t worry, Chad,” she said, going to her sister. “She’s only high on human chorionic gonadotropin.”

  Logan held his hands out sideways and looked at his friends in confusion. “Is this the same woman you used to call Ditzy DeeDee?”

  “Yup,” Chad said. “All grown up, planning benefits, and throwing eight-dollar words around to impress us dumb cowboys.”

  “Your words, not mine.” DeeDee kissed the top of Cynthia’s head. When Frohike head-butted her hand, she stroked the cat’s silky fur. “My life works best when no one expects anything of me. This way, I get to surprise you.”

  “Mission accomplished,” Chad said.

  “And that’s not all.” DeeDee pointed to the plate of delicacies, remembering the river of chocolate in her dream. “I think I know how to talk Sage into donating.”

  “Really?” The cat, having had enough excitement, jumped off Cynthia’s lap. “How?”

  DeeDee shrugged one shoulder and got to her feet. “I’ll tell you once I’ve sealed the deal.”

  *

  Isaac considered taking Mark to the care home for an additional day. Without Deirdre to occupy him, Mark needed something to do and someone to be with.

  “DeeDee not coming today?” Mark asked him at breakfast, his brow furrowed. “Why?”

  Isaac lifted the milk jug over Mark’s bowl to even out the cereal-to-milk ratio. “Her sister needs her.”

  “I need her.” Mark hunched over his bowl, the spoon clutched in his fist like a weapon. “I don’t wanna go to work.”

  Isa
ac sighed. There went that option.

  He sipped his coffee, chastising himself for a coward. The whole point of moving to Montana and downsizing his practice was so he could have the freedom to spend more time with his brother. This was the perfect opportunity to take advantage of that freedom.

  “You don’t have to go to your program, Mark,” he said. “How about we play hooky and do something fun together today?”

  Mark’s head lifted fractionally, his glower unchanged. “What’s hooky?”

  “I don’t go to work, you don’t go to work, we do what we want. What do you say?”

  His head came up at that. “No work for Isaac?”

  His tone was full of disbelief. Isaac deserved that.

  “I know, I know. I work too much.” It was a familiar refrain.

  But it was his income, his success, that allowed him to take responsibility for Mark, to enrich his life by moving to a house in a small town where they could relax, make friends, and breathe fresh outdoor air. Maybe even get a dog one day. He had the means to hire a companion, to take Mark to the doctors, activities, and therapy Mark needed to thrive.

  Mark would always be dependent on him. Thank God he was able to provide what Mark needed.

  “You work because you love me.” Mark said the words he’d been told so often, the words Isaac believed but were only partially true.

  Being a provider was easy. He understood that role.

  Being with his brother, engaging with him, that was the challenge.

  “I do love you, buddy-boy,” he said, reaching out to gently punch his brother’s shoulder.

  A milky smile spread over Mark’s face. “Can we go to Whispers and PawPaws?”

  Isaac winced inwardly. He should have seen it coming. Mark and Deirdre had stopped in at the Whiskers and Paw Pals animal shelter several times since their first visit, and it was the high point of Mark’s day.

  “Sure, buddy,” he answered. “Great idea.”

  Mark downed his breakfast at warp speed and was at the door, teeth brushed, hair combed, and shoes on, without a single reminder.

  “Way to go, Marco.” Isaac looked at the bright spring sunshine and the green buds popping out on the trees lining their street. This would be fun, he decided.