by Joanne Fluke
“Oh! Sorry!” Michelle said, walking into the room and noticing Ross on the couch. “I didn’t know you were here, Ross. I was coming out to make sure I turned off the oven after I warmed the dessert. I’ll just check and go right back to bed.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Ross said, smiling at her. “I have to leave in a couple of minutes anyway, and I’ll see you both for breakfast.” He paused and began to smile. “Say, Michelle . . . you don’t happen to have any of that dessert left, do you?”
Michelle laughed. “As a matter of fact I do. I was thinking about having a piece myself. How about you, Hannah?”
Hannah smiled. “Have you ever heard me turn down dessert?”
“No!”
Both Michelle and Ross answered at once, and then all three of them laughed.
“If you cut it, I’ll warm it in the microwave,” Hannah offered. “It’ll be a perfect midnight snack.”
“But it’s only eleven,” Ross pointed out.
“That’s okay,” Hannah said. “At midnight I’ll probably be dreaming about how good it was.”
Chapter Eight
The recipe testing at The Cookie Jar had been a huge success. When Lisa had announced that the whole town of Lake Eden would be helping Hannah and that they could watch the New York segment on television, everyone came in to offer suggestions and critique a small sample of the dessert of the day. That sampling seemed to whet their appetites for more sweet treats, and Hannah and Lisa sold more cookies than they’d expected.
It was the morning of the day they were leaving for New York, and Hannah was sitting in the living room of her condo with Ross and Michelle, her suitcase at her feet. Norman had already picked up Moishe, who’d been so obviously excited at the prospect of going to play with Cuddles that he’d tugged on the leash attached to his harness while Norman had said good-bye and wished them success.
“Isn’t it almost time to leave?” Hannah asked Ross, who glanced at his watch.
“Yes. The driver should be here any minute.”
Immediately following his answer, there was a knock on Hannah’s door.
“I’ll get it,” Ross said, jumping up and carrying Hannah’s suitcase to the door. “Our car must be here.”
Just as Ross had predicted, a uniformed driver stood there waiting. Hannah recognized him as one of the drivers that Cyril Murphy used for his Shamrock Limousine Service.
Ross handed the driver two suitcases, which the driver took down the outside staircase. When he reappeared, Ross handed him the rest of their luggage and then he shut the door again and turned back to Hannah.
“Let’s go, Cookie. The driver said he’s pulling the limo around to the sidewalk so we don’t have to walk down to the garage.”
“Oh, good! But it’s not a limo, is it? The Food Channel told me they were sending a van.”
“They were, but now that I’m going along, I upgraded to a limo.”
“KCOW sprang for a limo?” Hannah asked him, amazed that the radio and television station that had a reputation for being on a tight budget would go to those lengths to make them comfortable.
“KCOW allowed a certain amount for P.K. and me, and I picked up the rest.” Ross walked to the couch and took her arm to help her up. “I wanted my bride-to-be and her sister to ride to the airport in comfort.”
Hannah waited until they were in the limo and the driver had pulled out of her condo complex. Hannah leaned close to Ross. “Can you afford something like this on KCOW’s salary?” she asked in a low voice.
“Don’t worry about it, Hannah. It’s tax deductible because I still have my status as an independent producer. Didn’t I tell you that I transferred my bank account here to Lake Eden First Mercantile Bank? Doug Greerson handled it for me.”
“But . . . isn’t a limo a lot more expensive than a van?”
Ross laughed. “No, not if you compare the price to L.A. I can afford it. I didn’t spend much money when I was living in California and I’ve made a lot of money since I moved here. We can afford a limo for such an important trip.”
Hannah felt a warm glow. Ross had said we, instead of I. That meant he was already thinking of them as a couple. She still didn’t understand how someone could save money when they were wining and dining the Hollywood luminaries Ross had told her about, and he certainly couldn’t be making a fortune working at KCOW-TV, but she wasn’t about to question him further.
It took a moment, but then Hannah remembered the independent film Ross had made right here in Lake Eden and the Minneapolis television station that had offered to pay a fee if they could air it on their Minnesota Movies show. Ross had told her they wanted to feature it in the premiere of their new programming, and the deal with them must have gone through.
Hannah gave Ross a big smile. “This is wonderful, Ross. I feel like a rich woman, riding in such luxury. Thank you so much for thinking of it!”
“Only the best for the woman I love.” Ross pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly. “We’re going to have a really good life, Hannah. I know we will.”
“Yes,” Hannah said, but something was niggling at the back of her mind. How much money was there? And would it run out if Ross continued to spend it on limos like this? But he had said it wasn’t expensive compared to Los Angeles prices. And this was a once in a lifetime experience. She highly doubted that she’d ever be invited to be part of a national competition again. She really should relax, enjoy herself, and trust the man who would soon be her new husband.
The time passed quickly when you were riding in a limo and didn’t have to worry about driving, or directions, or traffic. Cyril’s driver was a thorough professional and he got them to the airport early. He idled at the curbside check-in, got a skycap to check them in, get their boarding passes, and load their luggage. After a brief moment with Ross, the driver drove away. Then they all walked into the airport.
“Let’s get through security and then we’ll go up to the Sky Lounge,” Ross said, picking up Hannah’s carry-on and his. P.K. did the same for Michelle and they headed off to security.
The lines were short and they were through in less than ten minutes. Ross led them down the hallway, through a door marked MEMBERS ONLY that required a key card, and checked them in with a man at a huge desk in front of an elevator. Then he took them around a corner to another, smaller elevator.
“We go up in this one,” he told them, slipping his key card into the slot again. Before Hannah could even think to ask where this elevator went, the doors opened and Ross motioned them inside. He inserted his card in a slot near the front, the doors closed, and the elevator began to rise.
“There aren’t any buttons on this elevator,” Michelle said, staring at the blank panel where the buttons for the floors would have been in most elevators.
“That’s because this is an express elevator that only goes to one place,” Ross told her.
Almost before the words were out of his mouth, the elevator slowed to a stop and the door opened to reveal another desk with a man in a suit sitting behind it.
“Good morning, sir,” the man greeted Ross, taking the card Ross handed to him. He scanned it in some sort of card reader and gave Ross a welcoming smile.
“Everything is ready for you, Mr. Barton. Please follow me.”
Ross motioned them forward and they followed him to a lounge on the top floor of the airport where they took swivel chairs around a black onyx table. A smiling waitress arrived almost immediately to take their drink and breakfast orders from the menus on the table. Once she’d left, Hannah turned to Ross.
“There’s no one else here,” she commented.
“That’s because it’s early. It’ll fill up in a couple of hours.”
“We must have gotten here right after they opened,” Michelle said.
“No.” Ross shook his head. “They’re open twenty-four hours a day for members.”
“Does it cost a lot to belong to a club like this?” Hannah asked, hoping she did
n’t sound worried.
“It’s worth it if you fly as much as I do . . . or as much as I used to do. Everything’s free, including the drinks, and there are cubicles where you can stretch out and rest if your flight is delayed.”
“What if you fall asleep?” P.K. asked.
“They wake you in time to catch your flight and they have their own private cart waiting to take you to the gate. You get full VIP service, and you don’t have to wait in those uncomfortable chairs in the waiting area by the gate.”
Their breakfast arrived and Hannah was momentarily distracted. She’d ordered smoked salmon with capers, cream cheese, and toast points. It was so artfully arranged and presented on a bone china plate. It was so attractive that it could have been used on a gourmet magazine cover.
“Gorgeous!” Michelle breathed, and Hannah glanced at her sister’s plate. Michelle had ordered Eggs Benedict and again, the breakfast entrée was so beautifully arranged, it could have starred in a magazine photo. The food looked lovely in the Sky Lounge and the service left nothing to be desired. But how did their breakfast entrées taste?
There was only one way to find out and Hannah could hardly wait! She spread cream cheese on a toast point and sprinkled on some capers. She’d learned that from Delores. Capers tended to roll off if you put them on top of the salmon, but if you pressed them down into the layer of cream cheese, they stayed in place until you could eat them.
Breakfast was wonderful. It was clear that everyone loved it because there was total silence while they ate and every one of them finished every bite. Four cups of excellent coffee later, a pleasant-looking young woman wearing an airline uniform approached their table.
“Your flight is ready, Mr. Barton,” she said, smiling at Ross.
“Thank you,” Ross said, rising from his chair. Hannah and everyone else followed suit. It was obviously time to go.
“Please follow me,” the young woman said, leading them to the elevator. And when they’d reached the ground floor, she escorted them past the front desk and led them to a motorized cart driven by a uniformed driver.
“Please be seated,” she told them. “Your flight is waiting for you. We wish you a safe and pleasurable journey to New York.”
Hannah was impressed and she glanced at Ross. He seemed to be taking the special treatment they’d received in stride. Of course, Ross had flown many more times than she had. Hannah’s only flight thus far, had been on the private jet that had carried her sisters, Doc, and Delores to Las Vegas.
Prepared to experience a letdown when she boarded a commercial flight, Hannah followed Ross as he led them to the Jetway. The long, carpeted section was completely deserted and she turned to him with a frown. “We’re flying a commercial jet, aren’t we?” She asked.
“Yes, we are. It’s my favorite airline.”
“Good, but where are all the other people?”
Ross turned to her with a smile. “They’re on the plane already. The people in the Sky Lounge wait until boarding is complete. They board last so that they don’t have to stand in line.”
Hannah was a bit nervous as she walked up the ramp. She’d heard horror stories about commercial flights. Rose McDermott had flown home to see her parents at Christmas, and she’d told Hannah about being sandwiched in between a terribly overweight man and a lady who kept falling asleep and putting her head on Rose’s shoulder. Rose had told her that when you flew coach, you had to be in the first group that boarded to get the good seats.
Hannah tapped Ross on the shoulder. “Aren’t all the good seats taken?”
“Yes, but I’m a Sky Lounge member and they saved our seats for us. Don’t worry, Cookie. You’ll be very comfortable on the flight.”
His promise was good enough for Hannah. Ross had been right about everything so far. She smiled and followed him to the end of the Jetway and entered the plane right behind him.
“Would you like the window or the aisle?” Ross asked her, gesturing toward the bulkhead seats on the right of the plane.
“The window please. But those aren’t our seats. According to the diagram the Food Channel sent me, we’re near the back of the plane.”
“Not anymore. We have these two bulkhead seats and Michelle and P.K. have the ones right across the aisle from us.”
Hannah was almost afraid to ask, but she did. “But weren’t we supposed to be in coach?”
“Yes.” Ross gave her a little hug. “I called the airline and upgraded all of us. I may not be flying much in the job I have now, and I figured I’d better use my frequent flyer points for something.”
“Well . . . thank you!” Hannah said, stretching out in the wide, comfortable seat. At least Ross hadn’t paid extra for this. “This is just wonderful, Ross.”
Ross gestured at the stewardess who was coming down the aisle. “What would you like to drink? Whatever it is, you’ll have to drink it fast. We’re almost ready to take off.”
“Coffee would be good, if you think I’ll have time to drink it.”
“You will. They just finished their head count and they still have to report to the gate.”
“Something before we depart, Mr. Barton?” The stewardess asked him.
“Coffee please. Two cups would be good. One with cream and one black.”
“Right away, sir.” The stewardess smiled, and hurried to the galley to get their coffee. A moment later, she delivered it and helped Hannah pull out the little tray on the console between them. “Would you like a cookie to go with that, Miss Swensen?”
“No, thank you,” Hannah said. “We just had breakfast.”
Hannah tasted her coffee. Rose McDermott had told her that the coffee on planes was undrinkable, but this coffee was very good. She’d just finished drinking it when the stewardess came back to collect their cups.
“Are you nervous, Hannah?” Ross asked her.
“No. Should I be?”
“Not at all. I’ve flown on aircraft like this hundreds of times and they have a very good safety rating.”
Hannah swallowed hard. She wished that Ross hadn’t said that. It was almost like tempting fate. But she smiled as he took her hand. At that moment she knew that she’d go anywhere with him, even into a dangerous situation, as long as he never left her side.
Chapter Nine
“Wake up, Hannah. We’re on approach.”
Hannah opened her eyes and somehow managed to orient herself. Instead of working on a cooking stage at the Food Channel competition, she was sitting next to Ross on an airplane and he was smiling at her. She blinked several times in an attempt to shake herself out of the dream. She’d been dreaming that she was mixing up her Double Rainbow Swirl Cake and she’d spilled grape Jell-O powder all over Alain Duquesne.
Her mind still felt sluggish and heavy, like wet woolen snow pants after an afternoon of playing in the snow. “On approach?” she repeated Ross’s words groggily. “What are we approaching?”
“The airport.” Ross gestured toward the cup of coffee on the little pull-out tray between them. “I had the stewardess bring you a fresh cup. That should clear out the remnants of that dream you were having.”
“How do you know about my dream?” Hannah asked, reaching for the cup of coffee.
“You said, Don’t be mad. I’ll wash your shirt.”
Hannah took a sip of coffee. “That fits. I was dreaming that I was baking our wedding cake and I spilled grape Jell-O powder all over the head judge.” She took another sip of coffee and leaned back with a sigh. “I guess I’m more nervous about the competition than I thought I was.”
“You’ll be just fine, honey,” Ross reassured her. “You have a big advantage over the other contestants.”
“I do?” Hannah was surprised. “What’s that?”
“They have big fancy restaurants and they’re not used to baking anything alone. All of them have at least three other people to help them in their kitchens. You’re used to working alone, or with just one other person. You’re also more comforta
ble with a time limit. You’re required to bake a certain number of cookies in a certain amount of time so they’re ready when your coffee shop opens for business in the morning. Their restaurants don’t open in the morning. The earliest any of them open is noon for the lunch crowd. And I’m willing to bet that most of their lunch desserts are things like ice cream, sherbet, cakes, and pies that are left over from the previous night.”
Hannah was surprised at Ross’s insights. “How do you know all that?”
“I looked at their menus online. Their lunch menus only had two or three desserts and most of them consisted of things their staff could assemble in the kitchen like fresh seasonal fruit over ice cream with a sauce or a liqueur.”
“How about the dinner menus?”
“The desserts were more elaborate on those, but don’t forget that they have all day to make them and more than one assistant. And they don’t have to bake take-out orders, or delivery orders, or answer the phone, or serve coffee when the restaurant gets busy. They also close between lunch and dinner. They have only one job, and that’s to make the desserts. They’re prima donnas. You’re a jack of all trades plus a fantastic baker.”
Hannah began to smile. “Thank you, Ross. I think you’re right and I do have an advantage. I feel much better about the competition now.”
* * *
In less than an hour, Hannah and Michelle stepped into their hotel room. Their luggage had already been delivered, and there were two luggage racks set up in the very places that Hannah would have chosen. She walked over to her suitcase and snapped it open to take out the extra copy of the recipes that she’d brought with her. She was still searching for the file of recipes when she heard Michelle give a low whistle.
“What?” she asked, turning around to look for her sister. But Michelle wasn’t standing next to her luggage rack.
“Where are you?” Hannah called out.
“I’m out on the balcony. Come out here, Hannah. The view’s incredible!”
Hannah left her luggage rack, which was in an alcove, and entered the main part of the room. “It’s a suite!” she gasped, gazing around at the separate bedrooms, two of them, and another room that probably contained the bathroom. One peek inside the partially open door proved her theory correct. But it wasn’t just an ordinary bathroom. It was a bathroom with two rooms, one containing the largest, most luxurious, innovative shower that she had ever seen, with multiple jets protruding from the walls and a built-in waterproof sound system for those who liked to shower to music.
