But that truth was about the big picture. Living it from minute to minute, she realized, was going to be entirely different.
Rather than duck into the shop to see where the crew was in terms of pre-show prep, she opted to head straight to wardrobe and makeup. She knew by heart the recipes being featured in the show they were taping, and she could smell delicious scents wafting through the warm morning air, coming from the direction of the prep kitchen trailer. Maybe that would be her first stop instead. If she couldn’t bake her way into therapy, maybe she could eat her way there.
She climbed the stairs, pausing long enough to take a short, steadying breath and make sure her expression was sunny and normal, as if her entire life hadn’t changed last night. “Here goes nothing,” she murmured, and opened the trailer door, coming to a dead stop when she saw who was in the prep kitchen. “Charlotte?”
Charlotte looked up, ice cream scoop in hand, from where she’d been filling paper liners with cupcake batter. She smiled. “Hello, Lan.”
“Weren’t we just on the phone?”
Charlotte nodded.
“You said you were baking.”
Charlotted waved the empty ice cream scoop. “I was. Am. By the way, these strudel cakes are going to be incredible. Where did you get the idea to create miniature apple strudel in a cup?”
“Thanks. I adapted one of my great-grandmother’s recipes. You didn’t mention you were here, on set. Baking. How—?”
Charlotte shifted to the side and Lani saw that Carlo was standing behind her. He lifted his hand in a half wave, and smiled.
“Hey, Carlo.” Lani’s gaze shifted between the two of them. “So—”
“You’re short one prep chef this morning,” Charlotte explained. “He had to fly home—family emergency—so when Carlo got the call about it, I offered to come in and help.”
“That’s great,” Lani said, and meant it, now that she was past the initial surprise. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure.” Charlotte kept glancing at Carlo, whose grin was almost as sappy and goofy as hers.
Lani thought she’d seen every expression Charlotte was capable of making, but this was new. She looked ... happy. And not in that end-of-drought-yea-me giddy kind of way, but truly happy. For that matter, Lani noted, so did Carlo, who, other than pausing to wave hello to her, hadn’t taken his eyes off Charlotte. The way they were looking at each other was a lot like the way Lani had looked at—she broke that thought off with a silent gasp, stopping just short of lifting her hand to feel her own face.
But she’d seen her own face in the bathroom mirror, just minutes ago. She had, indeed, looked ... exactly like Charlotte. There was pretty much a hundred percent chance she and Baxter were going to be looking at each other in the same way Charlotte and Carlo were looking at each other.
Only she and Baxter were going to be on camera.
Being taped.
For all posterity.
“Dammit,” she whispered.
“Lan?”
“I—uh, just remembered, I forgot something. Just keep on ... doing what you’re doing. And thank you,” she said, knowing she sounded like a stuttering fool. She hadn’t thought things through. She’d been in a post-drought haze. “I mean it.”
She ducked back through the door and closed it behind her before she heard Charlotte’s reply. They’d catch up later. Apparently there was a great deal of that left to do. She still couldn’t get over that look. “Could it happen like that? Just like that?”
“Could what happen like that, luv?”
She looked up to see Baxter crossing the crowded lot toward the makeup trailer. He changed directions.
“Oh, um, nothing. I just—Charlotte is helping out.” She made a vague motion over her shoulder to the trailer behind her. “Carlo asked her. You’re short a—”
“Prep chef, I know. I just got off the phone with Rosemary. Johnny’s father has been battling Hodgkins a long time,” he said, referring to one of the crew chefs Lani had met and gotten to know over the past few days, “but he’s taken a turn for the worse, so we sent him home.”
“I’m really sorry to hear that.”
“So it’s good that Charlotte could help; we were worrying we’d get backed up.” He glanced at the trailer behind Lani, then back at Lani. “I guess things went well between Carlo and Charlotte, then, yes?”
Lani nodded. “Very well, it appears.”
Baxter closed the remaining distance and looked into her face. “Is that not a good thing?”
“What? No. I mean, yes, it’s a good thing.” Lani finally snapped out of the distracted mental loop she’d been in since she’d realized—“We’re going to be on tape today.”
“We are.” Now he frowned. “Is that a problem?” He stepped up on the bottom riser. “Did something happen after I left?” He reached up and touched her cheek in a light caress. “Did you have a change of heart?”
No, Lani thought, I just realized that my heart is going to be taped for all posterity. She didn’t care that the rest of the world was going to see her sappy, happy, giddy-in-love expression. She cared that she was going to see it. Forever.
She was always going to have a handy reminder of exactly how she felt. Today. She knew if she ever saw so much as one of their episodes, she wouldn’t even need a copy of it. Watching herself with Baxter—if they looked at each other the way Charlotte and Carlo had been just now—would be forever emblazoned in her memory.
It was one thing to be living it, feeling it, in the moment of it, when she could only see one side of it. His face, his smile, his looks of desire ... for her. She didn’t see her own reactions, her own giddy smiles, and really hear her silly, infatuated laughter. She wouldn’t have that mental imagery to call up, on demand.
Except, now she would. It was like knowing, after the divorce, there was wedding footage of a happier time, sitting innocently on the shelf.
“Leilani?”
She looked at him, and though he’d asked the question calmly enough, gently enough, there was genuine concern, and not a little trepidation in his clear brown gaze. “No, of course I haven’t,” she said, feeling sorry for making him worry, even for a second. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? You rather look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I have, she thought. The ghost of us.
“Why, there you are!”
They turned to find Alva bustling across the lot, decked out in a trim periwinkle jacket and skirt, with matching hat and handbag, no less.
“Miss Alva,” Baxter said, smiling easily, but he’d rested his hand on Lani’s arm, was squeezing it as if to reassure her.
If Lani’s heart wasn’t already completely compromised by him, it would have been in that moment.
“I’m headed over the causeway to market,” Alva was saying.
“Don’t go to any trouble for me, Miss Alva.”
“I know you must eat all fancy every night, living in the city, so—”
“I’ve been thoroughly enjoying my meals here, trust me.” He patted his stomach, which Lani could vouch wasn’t sporting an extra ounce anywhere.
So unfair.
“Probably too much,” he added with a grin.
“Well, I just wanted to show you that we know fancy cooking in the South, too. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised by the menu this evening.” She looked past Baxter and seemed to notice Lani for the first time. “Where are my manners? Why hello, Miss Lani Mae, I didn’t see you there.”
Lani smiled, nodded, and held her breath, hoping there wasn’t an invitation forthcoming to dinner. She already knew that come the end of the day, she was going to hole up somewhere, with only her own thoughts for company. She was already almost desperately looking forward to. It appeared more than likely Charlotte would head off somewhere with Carlo, or would once Lani gave her blessing. With Baxter dining at Alva’s, Lani was guaranteed at least a little time completely to herself.
She didn’t want to have to come up w
ith a polite way to decline, but was saved the trouble when Alva turned her attention immediately and fully right back to Baxter.
Lani’s smile relaxed and became more natural as she realized Alva wasn’t dressed up for market. She’d dressed in hopes of flagging down her Friday night date. She looked quite snazzy, actually. If Lani wasn’t mistaken, she’d even penciled her brows and opted for a bit deeper shade of her trademark rose lipstick.
“I hope you don’t mind if I excuse myself,” Lani said a moment later, as the two continued to chat. “I am supposed to be in hair and makeup.” She started to make her way past Baxter, but he blocked her path, though he kept his gaze on Alva. “I’m sorry, Miss Alva, but I need to talk with Lani, before she heads in.”
“That’s okay,” Lani said, “I’m—”
Baxter looked up at Lani. “No, I do need to talk to you. Something else.” He turned back to Alva, who Lani noted was watching the byplay between them quite closely. Baxter reached out his hand and took Alva’s in a brief squeeze, which made her already expertly powdered cheeks pink up a bit more. “I’ll see you this evening.”
“Seven sharp,” Alva said. “Unlike you city folk, I put stock in punctuality. My menu is precisely timed.”
“I won’t be a second late,” he assured her, grinning broadly.
Alva beamed, full twinkle, then patted her hair, tucked her purse under her arm, and waved them good-bye.
They waved back; then Baxter turned and surprised a squeal out of Lani by framing her hips with his hands and swinging her off the steps.
“What are you doing—?”
“I have a proposition.”
She stopped, closed her mouth, and lifted her brows. “Really?”
He nodded, and there was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes that rivaled Alva’s.
“Did you rethink my idea about playing hooky?”
“First, are you sure everything is okay?”
“What? Oh, that. Yes. Seeing Charlotte in the prep kitchen just kind of ... threw me.” That was true enough.
Baxter tilted his head slightly. “Are you sure that’s all? You seem quite distracted. Did something else happen between Charlotte and Carlo? Should I talk to him, do you need me to—”
“No, no, not at all. They look like they’re practically setting up house together already. They’re fine. I’m happy about that, trust me. Carlo’s a good guy.” She waved her hand, wishing she could wave away all the rest of her cluttered thoughts and emotions so easily. In the meantime, until she could unclutter them, life was going to keep happening. Most especially the part of her life with Baxter in it. One thing she did know was that she didn’t want to miss any of it.
He held her gaze for another gauging moment.
“What proposition? I believe I tried doing that upstairs, and basically had to strong arm you into it.” She smiled. “Or was that a strong leg?”
He smiled back and relaxed again. “That might be a subject worthy of discussion. One we could have Sunday. On our flight to LAX.”
“Sunday isn’t going to be any diff—what did you just say? L.A.? California?”
“Last I checked, that’s where they’re keeping it, yes.”
His smile widened and he took her hands in his. “Remember last weekend, I had to go to New York, to do promo for the new season? Well, we already had a few more things slated for this weekend—”
“I didn’t know that. You’re going to leave for the weekend?”
He nodded. “I didn’t purposely not tell you. I think we’ve been focused on getting the taping up and running, and I just didn’t think to mention it. And, before we—” His gaze shifted to the stairs leading up to the second floor of her shop, then back to her. “I guess I didn’t think it was going to be of any real importance to you, beyond the fact that you’d get a break in the production schedule.”
“But—” they said together, and laughed.
“But,” he repeated, “now being gone for two whole days isn’t as acceptable, at least for me, as it was before. I wanted to talk with Rosemary before saying any—”
Her brows climbed. “You told Rosemary? About ... ?”
He chuckled. “I don’t think there was much need to spell it out.”
“What do you mean? How could she—?”
“Well, I didn’t mention it last night because I was ... otherwise distracted.” He flashed a quick grin, which sparked all kinds of thoughts about those exact distractions, which, in turn, did all kinds of unwise things to her libido. He must have seen something in her eyes, because his grip on her hands tightened and his eyes darkened slightly as he started to pull her closer.
She pulled back. “We’re going to be on camera shortly you know.”
“Yes.” He let her ease back, but nothing changed about the look in his eyes, and Lani thought it was going to be a very long day on the set. A long day of trying very, very hard not to look like she wanted to clear the table and have him on it instead of whatever they were baking.
“And, well,” he continued, “that’s the thing, really. You see, we were on camera yesterday, too.”
“I know, but now—”
“Lei, we were already a bit ... obvious about our feelings, even before last night.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The tape from the latter part of the day, the part that was shot after our little ... talk in the kitchen, at lunch. Let me just say Rosemary was fanning herself while she was watching.”
Lani’s mouth dropped open.
“I watched it, too. And ... well, I was thankful I was still wearing my apron. And standing a foot behind her at the time.”
“Baxter!”
He grinned, clearly not at all disturbed. “It wasn’t just the ovens generating some heat, that’s all I’m trying to convey.”
“I got that.” She felt her cheeks flaming up. “And I’m not sure how I feel about it.”
“Well, if you’re worried about how Rosemary feels about it, don’t be. She’s thrilled.”
“First smiling, now thrilled. Are you trying to scare me?”
His grin deepened. “No, I’m trying to reassure you.”
“It’s not working,” she said, but she was fighting a smile, too. Apparently she could stop worrying about how she was going to look on camera, as it was already too late for that. “So, you asked her about taking me to L.A. with you?”
“I don’t have to ask permission for that, but I wasn’t sure if they wanted you here for any of the exterior and island shots they’ll be taping while I’m gone. They want to get the local color to set the scene for the show location. I’ll have to do some spots, too, but I can do that when I get back.”
“Oh, right.” Bernard had mentioned something about that when he’d tried to go over the entire schedule with her, but she hadn’t been willing to think about more than one day—one hour even—at a time, so most had gone in one ear and out the other. “And?”
“And that worked out fine. The part they need you for they can do when they shoot my intros.”
“How long is the trip?”
“We’re flying out early Sunday, back on the red-eye Monday night. We’ll get back here before dawn Tuesday. We aren’t scheduled to tape until one in the afternoon that day. Will you come with me? The schedule will be a bit frantic, but we’ll have some time on the flight out and back. I know Charlotte is here, but—”
“If there’s no prep cooking to be done while you’re gone, and Carlo has the same time off, I’m thinking Charlotte will find something to occupy her time.”
Baxter grinned. “Good. Then you’ll come.”
“Are you sure? I mean, my running around with you will definitely get noticed, won’t it? I know I said I didn’t mind that, and I don’t, but if we spark media attention right off, the paparazzi could show up here before we’re done taping.”
He did pause then. “No, I don’t want to do that to everyone here.”
“Well, to be honest, Alva woul
d be in heaven, and who knows, maybe everyone else would enjoy their fifteen minutes, too. I do know my father wouldn’t be too thrilled, but—”
“We’ll be discreet while traveling to and fro. We don’t need to be a public pair.” He smiled. “We were purely professionals for years. We know how to do that.” He tugged her closer. “I just want you with me. I want your company, Lei, your smile, your laugh.”
“I’d like that.” She didn’t want to lose two full days of their time together, either.
“Brilliant,” he said, his gaze on hers. “Oh, there’s one more thing. Tomorrow night we’re having a viewing party at your little pub.”
“Stewies?”
“I believe that’s the name I heard, yes. We’re screening the premiere of the new season. It actually airs Sunday night on the network, but I’ll be in L.A., so we’re having the party tomorrow night instead. The whole crew will be there, and whoever else is in the tavern at the time.”
“Word gets out and everyone on Sugarberry will try to squeeze in.”
“Possibly, but I hope you’ll come. I know we’ll be putting in a long day first, and you’ll want some time with Charlotte before we take off, so—”
“I’ll make it all work. I’d like to be there.” She smiled up at him. “And, thank you.”
“You’re welcome. For?”
“Understanding. Letting me work my way through this in whatever way feels right at the moment. I know I’m sending out confusing signals, but that’s because it’s confusing to me. This part of it, the public part. I’ll get the hang of it. But, just know, it’s not about you.”
“I was hoping as much.”
The door to the makeup trailer opened and Andrea, the dresser, stuck her head out. “Come on, you two. Rosemary’s yellin’ in my ear. We need to get you into makeup and aprons.”
“Be right there,” Baxter called out; then to Lani, he said, “Whatever you need today, while we’re filming, just let me know, yes? We’re still just us, and we’re good in the kitchen together. We always have been. Let go of the rest. I’ve got this. And I’ve got you. Do you trust me?”
Sugar Rush Page 27
