Wish Upon a Matchmaker

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Wish Upon a Matchmaker Page 12

by Marie Ferrarella


  Standing back, Stone was wordlessly taking in the exchange. He liked the fact that Danni was defending someone, thinking of the person’s feelings when he wasn’t even around. It gave Stone a little insight into the woman’s character and her nature. He liked what he’d glimpsed in both cases.

  “Okay, everyone, assume your positions,” the director instructed, raising his voice.

  “Where do you want us to sit?” Stone asked, addressing the question to the only person on the set who mattered to him besides his daughter.

  “You can be the audience,” Ryan told them, cutting in to answer before Danni had a chance to say a word. He pointed toward the small audience section. “Gemma, Roy, take seats in the second row. Let— Stone is it?” he asked, looking at the general contractor. Stone nodded. “Let Stone and the little princess here sit in the first row,” he instructed.

  Ginny giggled. “I’m not a princess,” she protested—but not too strenuously.

  “I don’t want to bump anyone,” Stone told the director.

  “Don’t worry about that. We couldn’t get an audience back for the shoot on such short notice so we just gathered up friends and family members to serve as an audience. Audience at home is watching Danni, not memorizing who’s in our studio audience and who went home. Since Danni brought you two with her, I figure she wants you to be up close and personal with the action—right, Danni?” Ryan asked, turning a weary, thousand-watt smile on his star for ten seconds.

  “Whatever you say, Ryan,” Danni responded, not wanting Stone to think she was making a big deal out of any of this—even though, now that she thought of it, she rather liked the idea of having the man and his daughter here, taking in what she did for a living.

  By no means did she think of herself as a celebrity, but there were people who were impressed with anyone whose face wound up on the TV screen. She had a feeling Ginny might fall into that category—for the time being.

  Danni pretended to be busy and not watch where Stone and his daughter finally wound up taking their seats, but she was acutely aware of where they sat down.

  As far as she was concerned, they were her audience. She directed most of her words to that section of the seats—which turned out to be front and center.

  “Okay, Danni, do what you do best. Action,” Ryan declared.

  Danni began talking to her audience in her laid-back, easy cadence. Traces of her Georgia accent wove their way through her sentences as she instructed the audience, both in the studio and at home, how to go about making one of the newest dessert fads to capture the public’s fancy: elaborately decorated cake pops.

  Just as she began, a heavyset man maneuvered his rather large frame into the seat next to Stone. “Made it,” he sighed contentedly, more to himself than to anyone around him.

  Then, as if he suddenly realized that he wasn’t in the audience alone, he turned toward Stone and murmured, “I got stuck in traffic. Was afraid I was going to miss this.”

  This had to be that Wally character the others had talked about, Stone thought. The man’s sentence was obviously begging for a reply. After a beat, Stone gave in and asked, “You enjoy watching her bake?”

  “Mouth starts to water just thinking about it,” Wally confessed. “The stuff she burns tastes better than what some people spend hours preparing—not that she ever burns anything,” he added hastily, looking suddenly nervous, as if he realized he’d said too much. “You’re not a blogger or anything, are you?” he asked.

  “I’m her general contractor,” Stone said to put the man at ease.

  Wally immediately relaxed. “Yeah, she said something about having her house worked on. She’s a real nice lady,” he told Stone in a pseudo whisper. “Don’t come any nicer. Knows the names and ages of my kids. And not just mine. Can’t see why someone like that doesn’t have a family of her own,” he said with a shake of his head.

  “Not always that easy,” Stone commented.

  Wally nodded his head in firm agreement. “No, I guess not. But she should.” He took in a deep breath. The first batch of cake pops had gone into the oven and were already creating a tempting aroma. “Smell that?” he asked Stone. “That’s pure talent. If I was married to a woman like that, I’d be fat,” he speculated. Then as if he had a sudden reality check, Wally laughed and patted his large girth. “Or fatter,” he amended with a wide grin.

  The taping abruptly halted as Ryan cried, “Cut.”

  “Are we done already?” Danni asked hopefully. She glanced over toward the producer who was standing in the wings. The man had actually underestimated the time on this, she thought happily, glad she’d suggested having Stone bring his daughter and be part of her audience.

  “No, and we won’t be done unless the running commentary coming from the audience stops.” Ryan glared at the late arrival.

  “Sorry,” Wally apologized. “Guess I got carried away with a surge of enthusiasm,” he said, then raised his voice to promise, “Won’t happen again.”

  “It does and today’s desserts are going to go home with everyone but you,” the director warned, obviously knowing that was the most effective threat he could issue to the gaffer.

  Ryan’s back was to Danni, so consequently he didn’t see her looking at the wide staff member and he didn’t see the wink she sent the man. A wink that silently assured him of his fair share of the loot as long as he played by the rules.

  Taping resumed as Wally made a conscientious effort to maintain his silence.

  Stone continued observing the woman. He had to admit that he really liked what he saw—she was bright, entertaining and funny—and the tempting scent of cake pops, decorated or simply rolled in powdered sugar, just seemed to enhance everything.

  Especially, he noted, for his daughter.

  * * *

  “Well, I was almost right,” Barry said the moment that the taping finally wrapped up for the day. “It was around ninety minutes.”

  “Not all that close,” Danni contradicted, her eyes not on her producer but on the two people she’d dragged to the studio. It was time to get going. “I’ll see you Monday,” she told Barry, thereby effectively ending any further conversation he might have felt compelled to engage in.

  Danni stripped off her coverall apron and placed it on the counter rather than going off set to put it away herself. She was constantly being told some people were paid to keep track of her aprons. Just this once, she decided to utilize said people—she hurried off the set and down into the audience seats.

  “I’m so sorry,” she apologized before she even reached them.

  Stone was already on his feet, waiting for her. Ginny had bounced up to hers, energy about to be unharnessed.

  “For what?” Stone asked. “The taping wasn’t that much longer than ninety minutes,” he told her.

  Maybe it was but he didn’t want her feeling badly about it. He—and more important, Ginny—had enjoyed themselves. Ginny had already consumed two cake pops—a lion and a giraffe—and she was holding two more in her hands.

  His daughter, Stone thought, looked as if she were absolutely in heaven. Wisps of yellow and black frosting dotted her wide, smiling mouth. And her eyes could double as Fourth of July sparklers.

  Danni flashed Stone a grateful smile. “Thanks for being so understanding. I really didn’t want to miss out on getting your help selecting the tile and granite,” she confessed. Turning toward Ginny, she asked, “So, what do you think? Do you like cake pops?” The answer was more than obvious, but she wanted the little girl to feel as if her opinion counted.

  “I love cake pops,” the little girl declared.

  Stone laughed, thinking of the two cake pops she’d already made such short work of. “Just what she needs, a sugar high.”

  “I don’t use sugar, I use apple sauce, remember?” Danni reminded him. “Natural apple sauce,” she emphasized. “That’s supposed to be even better than sugar in the recipe. Most people can’t tell the difference.”

  Natural s
ugar or artificial sugar, the results were still going to be pretty much the same, Stone judged.

  “Still going to have to scrape her off the ceiling,” Stone predicted.

  “But it won’t be a cathedral ceiling,” Danni pointed out, as if that made all the difference in the world. “Just a normal-size one.”

  “You do try to find the silver lining in things, don’t you?” Stone observed, amused and maybe just a little charmed by this exuberant woman as well.

  “That’s the only way I know how to survive,” Danni admitted. The nature of her behavior was deeply rooted in her past. “Otherwise,” she admitted in a rare moment of sharing, “I think I would have been pretty much plowed under by now.”

  “Oh? By what?” he asked. Then, the next moment he realized how that must have sounded to her, as if he was digging into her life. “Sorry, none of my business,” he told her, raising his hands in symbolic surrender. “Didn’t mean to pry.”

  She ignored his words of apology and the fact that he was backing away from the subject altogether. Granted she didn’t owe him any explanations, but even so, maybe she owed herself a small twist of the release valve. She’d been carrying things around, bottled up inside her, for too long.

  Danni made a conscious decision to share, telling herself that sometimes it was good to give voice to the things that weighed so heavily on her soul.

  “My dad died just as I graduated college. He was a dear, sweet man who through no fault of his own left me with a mountain of bills to pay in addition to having to pay off my college loan. For about a month, I felt so swamped I could hardly breathe.”

  “Technically, you could have walked away from the medical bills,” he told her. People did it all the time, either just picking up and moving away, or declaring bankruptcy.

  Danni shook her head. Not that she hadn’t considered it for all of a few minutes, but she’d come to the same conclusion she still espoused now.

  “Not my style. My father would have been very disappointed in me if he knew,” she confided. “Although, I do have to admit that I did lean in that direction for a little while, feeling that if I had to pay the bill, the least they could have done was save my father.” She laughed shortly. “But there was no ‘satisfaction guaranteed’ stamped on the hospital bill. Just the words, Payment Due Now. And,” she added with a shrug, “they had tried to save my dad, but the cancer was too far along, discovered too late...”

  He filled in the blank. And what it told him was that the woman he was looking at had far more integrity than anyone he’d ever dealt with.

  The lights all around them on the set suddenly dimmed. The set was being shut down, she realized. “I think they’re hinting we should leave,” Danni told her guests.

  “Don’t have to tell me twice,” Stone said with a short laugh. Taking his daughter’s small hand in his, he placed his other one against the small of Danni’s back and said, “Let’s go.”

  She could feel the slight pressure of his hand, could feel a wave of warmth pass all along her body. Danni had no idea why, but that in turn created a feeling of well-being, of being taken care of. It wafted through her as she allowed herself to be guided off the sound stage and out into the parking lot.

  Just for a second, she pretended that for once there was someone looking after her, someone for her to lean on. It was an exceedingly good feeling.

  Chapter Twelve

  “I had no idea there were so many different stores that just sold tile,” Danni sighed as she sank into the passenger seat of Stone’s truck.

  For the last two hours, ever since they’d left the studio in Burbank, she, Stone and Ginny had undertaken what amounted to a pilgrimage, going from one store after another, looking at miles and miles of tiles. So far, all the stores were located along the same stretch of road in Anaheim—many of them boasting that their collection of tile was the collection.

  One store had tile only imported from Italy, another had their tile shipped in from different regions in South America. Still another only carried tile that came from France. A couple of stores got their tile from places she’d never even heard of. Each store had a slightly different twist to their collection, be it color, texture, locale of origin or something as simple as sporting a slightly different glaze.

  And that, Danni discovered, didn’t even begin to cover the army of cleaning products designed to keep those select pieces of tile looking brand new, or, in a couple of cases, older than time. Had it not been for the company she was keeping—both Ginny and Stone—Danni knew she would have been more than ready to throw in the towel after the third store.

  Stone, standing outside the truck and directly next to the passenger seat, sympathized with how she had to be feeling right about now.

  “Unless you know exactly what you’re looking for, it can be pretty overwhelming,” he agreed.

  Now there was an understatement, she thought. “It makes me seriously consider living in a hotel.”

  Having secured Ginny’s straps in her car seat, Stone came around to the driver’s side and got in behind the steering wheel. He put the key into the ignition, but left it there for the moment.

  “You don’t strike me as the transient type,” he told her.

  “No, living in a hotel permanently,” Danni underscored.

  Stone paused for a moment to study her a bit more closely. And then he shook his head. “Still don’t see you living out of a suitcase. You like owning things,” he said, surprising her with his insight. “Don’t worry, this gets better.”

  She’d believe it when it happened. “Are you talking as a general contractor or as someone who’s been on the other side of this process?” she asked.

  “Both,” he answered. There wasn’t even a hint of a smile on his lips. “And I do know what you’re going through,” he assured her. “It feels as if you’ll never make the right choice—and you’re afraid of settling, but even more afraid that this process will go on forever—am I close?” he asked. This time he allowed the corners of his mouth to curve.

  Danni shook her head. “No, you’re not ‘close,’ you’re dead on,” she told him. Either he really had been through this process on his own, or someone had bared their soul to him in an attempt to get him to relate. Either way, she was glad that he understood how all this made her feel.

  “If it makes you feel any better, most people don’t go with the first selection they see,” he said. “It usually takes more than a few trips to different stores before they find something that really moves them and then they go with that.”

  She laughed at his description of the process. “If I didn’t know any better, I would have said you were describing the kind of search a person undertakes looking for a soul mate,” she told him.

  He didn’t even need to reflect on what he’d said. Because he agreed with her. “Well, it is in a way. You make a commitment to what you pick out and wind up living with that commitment for a long time. Sometimes longer than some couples remain married. So, take your time,” he advised. “You want to really like what you pick out. There’s no advantage in going with the first thing you see.”

  She couldn’t help thinking he was advising her about more than just the tile or the other household decorations they would be looking at in the near future.

  Rousing herself, Danni focused on the business at hand. “Except that I’d be getting my house back,” she pointed out.

  “But you’re having the remodeling done so that you’ll like that house, right?” he reminded her. “Otherwise, there’s no point in having it remodeled in the first place.” He waited for his words to sink in. And enjoyed watching the bit of color rise up on her cheeks.

  Danni was force to nod—and concede. “Makes sense.”

  “Now then, are you up for any more stores, or would you just rather call it a day and we can do this again some other time?” he asked.

  If it were just up to her, she’d definitely opt to keep going. She liked spending this time with him. Liked his c
ompany, his wit, his masculinity that was so grounded. But there wasn’t just her to consider here.

  “That depends,” she answered. Before he could ask her on what, Danni twisted around in her seat and looked at the little girl strapped in directly behind her. “Do you feel like going to any more stores, honey, or are you tired?”

  “I’m not tired,” Ginny proclaimed loudly. She kicked her feet a little as if to emphasize how not tired she was.

  “I forgot to warn you. Ginny’s a self-winding kid,” Stone told her. “Just when you think she’s going to be winding down, she surprises you by getting all wound up again.”

  Despite Ginny’s overenergized state, Stone appreciated Danni’s concern for his daughter and putting her comfort ahead of anything that she might have personally wanted.

  “Well, then it’s settled,” Danni told him. “If you don’t mind continuing to be my guide on this safari, let’s just keep going.”

  “You heard the lady, Daddy, let’s keep going!” Ginny called out excitedly, sounding as energetic as if she’d just taken a nap instead of run up and down the aisles of six different stores.

  Stone laughed. “Well, I guess then I have my marching orders,” he said as he started up the truck and pulled out of the parking lot.

  “You’re not marching, Daddy, you’re driving,” Ginny pointed out, giggling at his error.

  “My mistake,” Stone said “humbly.”

  Ginny giggled louder.

  * * *

  After another two hours of traipsing through stores that dealt predominantly with bathroom and kitchen tiles, as well as a couple of shops that specialized in tiles made out of marble, Danni decided that the excursion needed to come to an end for now.

  “No more, please,” she begged as they walked out of their umpteenth store, nauseatingly called, Rocks to Riches. “All the tile is beginning to look alike,” she protested.

  “That’s because a lot of them are alike,” he explained. “Some stores tend to carry the same thing, as well as a little bit extra, hoping that ‘extra’ will draw you in. Anyway, I think we’ve sufficiently gotten your feet wet.”

 

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