Sweet Surprise: Romance Collection
Page 33
“Over a period of two years, Candy finally lost so much weight that she had to be hospitalized. Thankfully, she recovered.”
“I’m so glad to hear that.”
He nodded. “She’s fine now, but she doesn’t want to have anything to do with the bakery.”
He leaned closer. “I convinced Mom and Dad not to use human models in DairyBaked Delights’ ads for many years. I don’t want my family to do anything to contribute to any other young girl’s loss of self-esteem—or health.”
Gwendolyn felt her own eyes mist. “So that’s why you were so opposed to me using a model.”
“Yes. And now that I think about it, I’m still opposed to it.” Without warning, Sebastian threw down his napkin. “Gwendolyn, this evening’s over. I’m taking you home.”
Chapter 8
O ver the next few days, as much as she wanted to talk to Sebastian, Gwen-dolyn sensed that he needed to work out his issues for himself. She made no contact with him but concentrated on her work. Photographing reed-thin models, she couldn’t help wondering if Sebastian was right about unrealistic media images.
The knowledge that Sebastian was angry with her was even worse. Almost a week had passed with no contact from him. His silence made her wonder if she was supposed to show up for the scheduled photo shoot for DairyBaked Delights. But each day that she didn’t hear otherwise was another day she could hope the assignment was still hers.
Even if Sebastian never could be.
During evening devotions, she sought answers through prayer. She hoped the Lord would grant her peace or lead her to the right verse of scripture. But she found none. Perhaps her mind, or heart, was not yet open to His leading.
The day before the second photo shoot for DairyBaked Delights, Gwendolyn was thumbing through the day’s mail when she spotted an envelope bearing the return address of Kline and Birmingham Studios, Inc., in New York City.
Hands trembling, Gwendolyn opened the envelope.
Dear Miss Warner:
After reviewing your portfolio, we believe your photographs and previous work experience show you have the potential to become a name in the photography profession.
I would like to meet with you at your earliest convenience so that we may discuss how your association with our studio may be of mutual benefit. Please contact me at your earliest convenience to schedule an interview.
Sincerely,
Irma Horton
Kline and Birmingham Fashion Photographers
Surprised, Gwendolyn slowly sat on the couch. She read and reread the letter, unable—or perhaps simply unwilling—to believe it. After Gwendolyn had memorized every word, she was still not ready to let go of the letter. She began to stare at the paper, a quality rag bond in a gentle yellow, its red letterhead suggesting youthful vigor and energy, much as she pictured a big, vibrant New York studio.
This was the letter she’d been wanting for years.
But instead of elation, Gwendolyn felt unable to move. Weeks ago, she would have taken the news as a sure sign that God was answering her prayers and telling her He wanted her to be a commercial photographer. Now, she wasn’t so certain.
She remembered a verse she once memorized for Sunday school, Deuteronomy 13:4: “It is the Lord your God you must follow, and him you must revere. Keep his commands and obey him; serve him and hold fast to him.”
She knew what she had to do. And tomorrow she would set her plan in motion.
Gwendolyn donned a pair of black wool trousers, an emerald green angora sweater, and a strand of pearls with matching earrings and bracelet. As she touched lipstick in Coolly Coral to her lower lip, the doorbell rang. “Coming!” She glanced one last time in her dresser mirror. Satisfied with her reflection, she darted to the door to discover her visitor was Sebastian.
“Why do you look so surprised? You did look through the peephole this time, didn’t you?”
She gritted her teeth in embarrassment. “I guess not.”
“You really must change your habits.” His voice was teasing but soon became serious. “And I should change mine. I want to apologize to you for my behavior the other night. My sister’s reaction to media images happened years ago. I shouldn’t hold you personally responsible for something you had nothing to do with.”
“No, I understand. What your family went through was traumatic, and I am part of a profession that perpetuates those images. I’m so sorry your sister was hurt. But I’m glad you told me about her. From now on, I’m going to be very careful about what assignments I accept, and what creative direction I take with those I do accept.”
“I can’t ask for any more than that.” He smiled. “I come bearing gifts.”
“I wondered why you were hiding your hands behind your back.”
“I have a surprise.” He presented Gwendolyn with a narrow white box about three feet in length. Gwendolyn guessed the box concealed a bouquet of flowers. “So, am I invited in?”
Playing along, she put the box up to her ear. “Well, since I don’t hear a ticking sound…” Flashing him a smile, Gwendolyn stepped aside for him to enter.
“You thought I was still angry.”
“Not only angry, but determined to fire me,” she observed as she shut the door.
His lips pursed. “I’m sorry about that. Because I definitely want you to stay on as my company’s photographer—if you’ll still have us.”
“Yes!”
“In that case, these are yours.” He handed her the box.
“You mean, you were going to take this back if I said no?”
He grinned. “Well, Mom likes gifts, too.”
“Oh, you!” she teased.
Opening the box, Gwendolyn inhaled with delight when she discovered a dozen long-stemmed red roses. “These are beautiful!” Selecting one that was on the verge of blooming, Gwendolyn stroked a silken petal with her fingertip.
With her unspoken permission, he followed her into the kitchen so she could put the flowers in a vase. “I admit, after our conversation the other night I was ready to see Mom and demand we buy out your contract. But thankfully, I decided to wait until I cooled off. Then after a lot of soul-searching, I came to my senses. And I’m thankful you were gracious enough to accept my apology.” She felt his gaze upon her as he watched her arrange the flowers. “You’re dressed mighty well for so early in the morning. I hope this doesn’t mean you have a shoot scheduled with Sara Lee.”
“Hardly,” she answered. “As a matter of fact, I was on my way to see your mother.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “You were?”
She nodded. “I was going to tell her that I didn’t want to use a human model in the ads if you were opposed to one.”
“Really? You were really going to tell her that?” His mouth dropped open as though he didn’t believe it were possible. “What I think matters to you that much?”
“It always has.” Gwendolyn tried not to cringe when she recalled Sebastian’s opposition to her the first day they met. She leaned against the counter and folded her arms. “But more important to me is what the Lord thinks. And I have to tell you, I’ve been struggling with this career.”
“Really? But you seem so committed.”
“I am. At least, I thought I was.” Until I met you.
“If it’s such a struggle,” he asked, “then why do you pursue it?”
“I sort of fell into it, and at the time it seemed as though it was the right thing to do. You see, my brother is a professional photographer.”
“He is?”
“I was his assistant before I broke out on my own. I didn’t make a big deal about being related to him for obvious reasons.”
“So creative talent runs in your family.”
“I like to think so.” She nodded. “But your comments about models hit home with me in more ways than one. Remember, I used to be a model myself. Nothing big, mind you.”
He looked her over from head to toe, but his admiring glance made her feel loved. “So I haven
’t seen you in any of the big magazines? I’m sure if I had, I’d remember.”
She chuckled. “Thanks, but I think it was God’s plan for me not to be a huge success. While he was learning his craft, my brother used me as his subject many times. Of course, he wanted exposure for his pictures, so my photos eventually wound up with local people who thought I’d make a good model. Some of them had the power to follow through on their instincts. I’ve done lots of runway shows for retailers around here.”
“I can’t imagine you looking snooty and prancing around.”
“Oh, yeah?” Lifting her nose and straightening her lips, Gwendolyn narrowed her eyes just so. She could see from the expression on Sebastian’s face that she had succeeded. Slouching ever so slightly as she inserted a hand in each front trouser pocket, Gwendolyn strode around the small living room.
“Bravo!” Sebastian clapped. “But didn’t you list a lot of bridal shows? I think I’d be put off if I were your groom.” His mouth twisted into a wry grin.
Gwendolyn affected a fake Eastern European accent. “What do you mean by that? Do you not consider it an honor for me to step on you with my spike heel?” Though her shoes boasted modest stacked heels, Gwendolyn twisted a heel into the carpet.
Sebastian crossed his arms over his face in mock surrender. “Scary!”
Giggling, Gwendolyn placed her hands on her hips. “I’ll show you something a lot less scary. Here’s my ‘happy bride’ look.” She affected a pleasant expression that fell just short of giddy. Pretending to wear a full-length skirt, she cavorted around the room, her manner and style giving her the effect of one floating upon a cloud.
“I have to give you credit. Modeling seems to require a degree of acting. I can’t believe you never made the big time.”
She paused, thinking back on her career. “I could have made a decent living. I think that’s one reason why my brother, Bruce, was so mad at me for abandoning modeling for photography. I went from being his asset to becoming a rival. He thought I was wasting money on getting a photography degree when I could have dropped out of high school to be a model.”
“He didn’t really advocate that, did he?”
“No,” she admitted. “College was another matter. Tuition, you know.”
“I know. But schooling is never a waste, at least in my book.” He chuckled at his pun.
“Cute,” she said with a grin.
“So you want to be a famous fashion photographer?”
“I once thought I did. I even thought that since I hadn’t made any real effort to be a model at first, perhaps that was God’s plan for my life. But now I’m not so sure.”
“I remember when the dessert flopped. You didn’t try to worm your way out of our agreement. You were ready to accept the consequences.” He looked into her eyes. “Maybe you were having doubts?”
She shook her head. “Not then. I wanted that job desperately. Quitting was the last thing I wanted to do. But if you had held me to our agreement, I would have left that day. Keeping my word is more important to me than any job.”
“ ‘Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised,’ ” he said.
“Oh, the Proverbs 31 woman.” Gwendolyn waved her hand dismissively. “If you expect me to live up to her, I’m afraid you’re in for a rude awakening.” She chuckled. “Although I’m glad to see you’re reading your Bible.”
“Yes, more so than usual,” he admitted.
“Me, too.” Her voice took on a faraway quality. “Searching for answers.”
“Did you find yours?”
“I think so.”
“Good. I think I found mine, too.” Stepping toward her, he took her hands in his. “Gwendolyn, I’ve come to realize that just because Candy couldn’t face her problems in a healthy way doesn’t mean everyone else is like her.”
“I know. But I’ve been contemplating what you said, and I feel the same way you do. I wouldn’t want what I do for a living to contribute to anyone else’s problems.”
“That’s just it. I see now that people make decisions about their lives every day. Maybe seeing someone thin will inspire them. Or make them depressed.” When he let out a sigh, she knew he was thinking about his sister.
“What you told me about your sister made me think a lot. As I told you before, I really don’t want to be responsible for something like that.”
“I know you don’t.” Sebastian paused as though he were contemplating what to say next. He looked her in the eyes. “You live a healthy lifestyle, right?”
“I try.”
“You don’t crash diet or go on binges or do other unhealthy things to stay thin, do you? Or drink milk shakes just to put on a pound or two?”
She shook her head.
He chuckled. “As long as you’re being responsible about the way you eat and exercise, you can’t be expected to shoulder the blame for people’s reactions to your image, whether you’re in front of or behind the camera. Just as I have no control over whether someone has an allergic reaction to chocolate.” He gave her hands a light squeeze. “Honor God by doing your best and then leave the outcome in His hands.”
“What about using beauty to sell products? That seemed to be a concern of yours.”
“Who was I kidding? People want to see beautiful models.” Sebastian caught her gaze and held it. “And if the truth be known, I want to see a beautiful model—and photographer—every day. Her name is Gwendolyn Warner.”
Gwendolyn became conscious of her heartbeat. She didn’t want to spoil the moment, but she had to allay her fears. “Sebastian, I have to know. Do you really want to see Gwendolyn the famous photographer, or Gwendolyn the local portrait photographer?”
He didn’t hesitate to answer. “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about that very question since I last saw you. Do you want the truth?”
Feeling scared, she whispered, “Yes.”
“I’d like to see Gwendolyn as a happy and fulfilled woman, regardless of the career she chooses.”
She breathed a sigh. Sebastian’s words had set her free. Free to be the woman she wanted to be.
“Sebastian, there’s something I have to tell you.” Stepping back, she let go of his hands.
“Oh?”
“I’ve been asked to interview with a studio in New York City. I think the meeting is just a formality. I expect them to offer me a contract.”
He hesitated for only a split second. “Then go. Make your dreams come true.”
“Do you really mean that?”
“Yes, I do.” He clasped her hands once more. “But will you come back to me?”
“That’s just it, Sebastian. I no longer want to go. I don’t want to leave.”
“Really?” His gaze grew soft. “Because of me?”
Did she dare admit the truth? She looked into his eyes and decided that she could take the risk. “Yes. Because of you.”
“In that case, will you be more than my photographer? More than my friend?”
“Yes! If that’s what you want.”
“That’s what I wanted from the moment I saw you.” Wrapping his arms around her waist and shoulders, Sebastian pulled her closer to him.
Feeling the warmth of his lips as they drew closer, Gwendolyn lost herself in his kisses—the first of many to come.
SOUR CREAM POUND CAKE
1 cup butter
½ cup lard or vegetable oil
3 cups sugar
1 cup sour cream
6 eggs
3 cups flour
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon baking powder
3 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 teaspoons lemon juice
Cream butter and oil. Add sugar and sour cream to mixture and beat until well mixed. Add eggs one at a time, beating well after each egg. Sift flour, salt, and baking powder in large bowl and add to mixture. Add vanilla and lemon juice, mixing well. Pour into greased, floured Bundt pan. Be sure to use a traditional B
undt pan, because the recipe doesn’t work as well with tube or loaf pans. Put in cold oven, baking at 300 degrees for 1 hour and 30 minutes.
APPLE ANNIE
by Joyce Livingston
Dedication
Several years ago isas a surpre for Mother’s Day, my youngest son, Luke, took his wife Tammie and me (his three children and his father, too) to Apple Valley Farm in Northeast Kansas, where we all enjoyed a marvelous dinner in the Apple Valley Farm Restaurant and a melodrama in the Apple Valley Farm Barn. This yearly trip to Apple Valley Farm has become a Mother’s Day tradition, one Tammie and I look forward to every year, and Luke never disappoints us.
Although Apple Annie’s story is set in Idaho, many of the things about the restaurant and the barn have been inspired by Kansas’s own Apple Valley Farm. With thankfulness and a mother’s love, I dedicate this story to Luke.
I’d also like to thank Millie Miller of Edmund, Oklahoma, for giving me the recipe for the Sinfully Decadent Awesome Caramel Apple Pie, the specialty of Apple Annie’s Restaurant.
Chapter 1
A nnie, Brad’s here.” The waitress hurried to the window and pulled back the red-and-white-checkered curtain. Her eyes sparkled as the red minivan pulled across the parking lot and came to a stop.
Annie lifted a handful of menus from the big iron kettle and shuffled them in her hands. “That man! I don’t know why he refuses to park in one of the handicapped stalls.”
“Because it’s for handicapped people! I doubt Brad ever thinks of himself as handicapped, or even physically challenged. Isn’t that what they call it these days?” the waitress asked. The two women observed the electric lift lowering on the clean van. “I’ve never seen a man with two legs any happier than Brad. He makes everyone around him feel good. Wish I had his attitude. I’m sure my customers would appreciate it!”
The phone rang, and she scurried to answer it, but Annie lingered at the window. Brad Reed had shown up at Apple Valley Farm the first night of their new season. Several nights a week since then he had returned and always asked for the same table—the table for two, crowded into the far back corner next to the old woodstove. And he always topped off his meal with a wedge of what he called “sinfully decadent” Awesome Caramel Apple Pie. Even the waitresses had taken to calling the famous pie “sinfully decadent” when they described it to their customers.