Chocolate Chip Cookie Conundrum (Murder in the Mix Book 32) Page 2
Just the thought of nursing my sweet little angel leaves me cringing. Every pox Lainey and my best friend, Keelie, placed on me regarding the breasty matter has quickly come true. My boobs are cracked and bleeding. And if I wait too long between feedings, they swell to the size and density of bowling balls.
My mother felt sorry for me and brought over an entire box of everything available on the market to help with the situation. Newsflash, so far nothing has quelled this double D disaster in the least. The only thing I have to comfort myself with the fact I’m so sleep-deprived it feels as if I’m walking around under water half the time, unaware of who I am, what I am, or how my boobs tripled in size.
Although the mother standing before me isn’t the one that came bearing gifts for my boobs, it’s Carlotta Sawyer, the one who saw fit to abandon me as an infant at the Honey Hollow Fire Department—and believe you me, my life has been better because of it. Carlotta and I share the same caramel blonde hair, hazel eyes, and quirky disposition to see right through to the other side of the earthly veil.
The fireman who found me way back when ended up adopting me. Joseph and Miranda Lemon, the very best parents on the planet, raised me. And they gave me a couple of sisters to boot—one a year older than me, Lainey, and one a year younger, Meg. We’re all in our late twenties now.
A loud bang goes off to our right and we look to see a woman with short curly hair opening and closing a clapperboard, the black and white contraption they snap between takes in the movies—or on dicey shows like this.
But the caustic noise doesn’t seem to bother my sweet little babe at all. Lyla Nell is sound asleep in a faux fur-lined carrier snug against my chest as I steal a moment to take in my surroundings.
The studio we’re situated in is a bit smaller than I had envisioned it to be. It’s still plenty spacious, but for some reason, I had envisioned a football field. The audience sits in two tiers with three different sections practically ensconcing the set from every side. It’s dark in their direction due to the fact all of the spotlights shine down over the stage, with its pale wood floors and its orange sofa and matching wingback chairs placed strategically. There’s a small coffee table in front of the sofa to give it a homey appeal, but I’ve watched the show enough to know that it’s mostly there for the guests to flip once they get overheated. Not that I expect Noah or Everett to get overheated. But me? I’m about ready to flip a table right now.
I make a face. “You know, I never would have agreed to a live paternity reveal if Noah’s wily father hadn’t bilked my mother out of her B&B.”
It’s true for the most part. Wiley Fox is Noah’s father’s actual moniker. It’s almost as if his mother suspected something nefarious were afoot with her little one once she took a look at him, but I digress. As soon as Wiley strolled back into town—seemingly from the grave—he’s been taking advantage of my mother one way or another.
Once he saw that my sweet yet sassy mother was gifted at putting pen to paper, he opened a publishing company and took over half her profits. Then he convinced her that in order to grow the publishing company he needed a serious cash infusion, which she happily gave him after selling her precious B&B. I don’t know what she was thinking. It’s as if his dark hair, green eyes, and dimples possessed her. Not that I don’t completely understand. Noah is basically Wiley’s doppelgänger, and I’ve felt possessed by him on occasion, too.
Speaking of the bewitched.
“Lottie Lemon!” Mom rushes over wearing her very best navy pantsuit as her creamy vanilla waves bounce over her shoulders.
My mother is a looker no matter her age. She has a gleam of mischief in her eyes, a smile forever on her lips, and overall she has a face that never seems to age.
“What are you doing over here?” She straightens the collar of the dress I’ve shoved myself into, a red and blue plaid maternity number. I’ve paired it with a floral printed scarf that I thought was a good idea this morning, but now I’m not so sure. I think it’s weighing me down, and Lord knows I don’t need any help in that department.
Yes, my body is a long way from the T-shirt and jeans I had grown accustomed to. Suffice it to say, I was both shocked and disappointed to see that I still look very much with child weeks after having said child. Both Keelie and Lainey assured me it took them months to get anywhere close to where they were before the procreation party started. Keelie said it was nine months up, nine months down. But as soon as I’m even remotely able, I’m ditching my maternity duds for something far more comfortable. But then let’s face it, there’s nothing more comfortable than these tents I’ve been wearing.
Mom clucks her tongue. “Both Noah and Everett are already in hair and makeup—not that those stubborn men have allowed a single stitch of cosmetics to touch their faces.” She frowns hard at the thought of the most handsome men I know refusing to wear lipstick. “But don’t you worry. They’re still as good looking as can be.” Her lips twist to the side. “As evidenced by the dozens of women all clawing to get their hands on them. Oh, Lottie, give me that sweet little nugget,” she says as she carefully removes the carrier from my body and straps it onto hers, and lucky for us both Lyla Nell slept through the entire exchange. “There we go.” Mom drops a kiss over the baby’s head before covering her with a blanket. “I’m going to keep her with me at all times.”
“Okay, but make sure she stays warm. And if it gets too loud, I packed a pair of baby earmuffs, the kind they wear to help land 747s. I don’t want anything happening to her hearing because of this mess. And oh, I pumped and made up three bottles in case she gets hungry.”
Last week Keelie and Lainey came over and helped me assemble this horror of an apparatus that I hooked up to my udders, as Carlotta indelicately called my boobs. And well, I think Carlotta was onto something because I very much felt like I was on the wrong end of a dairy farm once that mechanism began suctioning the very soul from my body. Noah walked into the kitchen where we had set up what Keelie referred to as my own personal Dairy Queen, and he belted out a genuine scream before apologizing. I assured him I wanted to scream, too.
I snap my fingers at my mother. “And there’s a pacifier in there for her if she wants it—the cute one that says I love my daddy.”
Carlotta chuckles. “I bought that one for her. In fact, I bought her two, one for each daddy.”
I make a face. “Okay, and well, if she needs anything at all, whatsoever, I’m right here. I don’t care if we’re taping. I don’t care if we’re live. Don’t hesitate to bring her to me.” My chest bucks with emotion at the thought of being away from my sweet peanut for one hot second. I can hardly go to the bathroom without missing her.
Mom rolls her eyes. “Lottie, she will be fine. First babies are always little angels. That’s how the universe tricks you into having another one. Oh, you made such a cute little baby, Lottie. You have to find out who the father is and make another one right away. The more the merrier.”
Carlotta’s entire body shakes with a laugh. “If it’s Foxy, I’m sure Sexy will understand. You’re under direct orders from your mother.”
“That’s one directive I won’t be following,” I say. “I can barely keep up with Lyla Nell.”
“Oh, come now—go on and get,” Mom shoos me away. “This is it, the big day we’ve all been waiting for. We get to find out if Lyla Nell belongs to Noah or Everett. And I know, I know, she belongs to both. But you get what I mean. Now go.”
She flicks me away, and soon Carlotta is pulling me across the stage and behind the scenes of what looks to be an overgrown garage. There are just as many people bustling around backstage as there are in front, and standing not ten feet in front of us is the host herself, Candace Cottonwood. The brunette is dressed in a turquoise blouse and matching skirt as she speaks to a lanky woman with short dark hair and large serious eyes. Both women are going over a clipboard and nodding before the one with short hair pulls it back abruptly and suddenly their exchange looks rather tense.
&n
bsp; “There she is!” I say, giving Carlotta’s arm a squeeze. “That’s Candace! This is the first time I’m seeing her since I’ve arrived, and, oh wow, just look at her,” I muse. “She’s every bit as glamorous in real life as she is on TV.”
Carlotta huffs at the thought. “Please, Lot. She’s every bit as diabolical in real life as she is on TV. Let’s head back where we came from, and we can circle around the other direction to head to hair and makeup.”
“Are you insane? We’d have to walk around the entire studio. Besides, I want to meet her before the show. You know, to take the edge off my jitters.”
“What do you think God gave you Noah and Everett for? Find a dark corner and edge off all you want, or get jittery with it, whatever you kids are calling it these days.”
I shake my head, choosing to ignore her ramblings.
The lanky woman with short hair says something a touch too loud and caustic to Candace before stalking off past us.
“Well, that was awkward,” I whisper.
“Yup,” Carlotta says, still doing her best to pull me in the opposite direction. “And it’s about to get a heck of a lot more awkward. Come on, Lot. This is our last chance to make an escape.”
“Would you—” My mouth remains open as Candace strides this way. “Hello,” I say as she’s about to pass us by. “I’m Lottie Lemon.” I give a shrug as if I wasn’t exactly sure if that was true. “I’m actually one of your guests today.”
“Oh.” The stalky woman with a round face forces a smile. Candace Cottonwood is a force of nature. Some might say she’s a typhoon of a woman. She’s been known to get downright nasty with her guests, and it’s exactly that surly behavior that’s put her on the map. “Yes, you are.” A smile starts on her lips as she squints my way right before she looks to Carlotta and gasps. “Why, as I live and breathe, is it really you, Unibrow?” She steps in close and gapes at Carlotta.
“Unibrow?” I mumble as I glance back at Carlotta. What in the world is this woman talking about? “Carlotta, you don’t have a unibrow,” I’m quick to assure her.
Maybe Candace here is having some sort of a brain malfunction?
“Not anymore.” Carlotta glares at the woman before us. “Long time no see, Man Candy.”
I blink back. “Wait a minute,” I say. “Are the two of you throwing barbs at one another?”
Candace expels a riotous laugh. “I guess you could say that. Let me guess, Unibrow, this is the reason you left Honey Hollow High all those years ago?” she asks while hitching her thumb my way. “Oh my word, Lottie, I knew your mother way back when. In fact”—she shoots Carlotta the side-eye—“we bumped into one another shortly after she had you, and I got to see—”
“My new dress”—Carlotta says, yanking the woman away by the arm and pulling her behind a large metal ladder as the two of them start to go at it. I hear the words hate you, the word secret, and the words you will pay for this being spit out intermittently—and oddly enough, from both parties.
“I’ll just head to hair and makeup,” I say as I follow the signs, but before I can get there I spot two of the most handsome men in all of Vermont. I guess Noah and Everett are all done with hair and makeup. Instead, I find them standing in front of the refreshment table as an entire gaggle of women just about every age swarms them like a beehive. I clear my throat and the women look my way before frowning, and for the most part, departing.
“Lemon.” Everett straightens as he makes his way over. “Carlotta said she’d bring you right this way. Is everything okay?”
“It’s fine,” I tell him, albeit not all that convincingly. “I had to give the baby to my mother.” I decide to leave out the bit about Carlotta’s unibrow for now.
Judge Essex Everett Baxter is not only vexingly handsome, but he happens to be my official plus one. He’s got jet-black hair, eyes of the bluest sky, and a body that could run a ball down a football field. He’s slow to smile, quick with a witty comeback, and every woman in the room is commanded to acknowledge his presence. And we just so happen to already share a sixteen-year-old daughter together.
Everly, Evie, Baxter came to Everett just a year ago. Her birth mother, a woman by the name of Cressida Bentley, had hidden Evie away from the world and away from Everett. We were thrilled when we found her. And since Cressida wants nothing to do with her, I’ve stepped in as her mother and I’ve never been happier. I love Evie as if she came right out of my own body. And thankfully, Evie is smitten with her new baby sister, Lyla Nell.
“Hey, Lot.” Noah comes up and dots my cheek with a kiss.
And then there’s Noah Corbin Fox, head homicide detective, dark hair that turns red at the tips in the sun, eyes so green even the pine trees envy him, and he has both dimples and muscles for days.
Noah is my longtime boyfriend, or at least he was right up until I found out about the pesky wife of his. That little tidbit ripped us to pieces. We were basically on-again, off-again at that point, and oddly enough, while we were on again is when I tied the knot with Everett. It was more or less a business transaction at the time to help him meet the demands of his trust fund. Everett and I had dated before that, while Noah and I were off again, and Everett politely suggested I finish things with Noah to see if there was anything there.
And when Noah and I grew serious once again, Noah suggested I finish things with Everett to see where things would go, hoping I would tie things off with Everett for good—and well, I had come to the same conclusion. Let’s just say that the goodbye Noah and I shared may have gotten out of hand, and the hello Everett and I shared definitely got out of hand, and here we are at a sleazy talk show ready and willing to find out the paternity results live and on air.
Noah and Everett used to be stepbrothers for all of five minutes while Noah’s louse of a father was married to Everett’s billionaire heiress of a mother. Wiley bilked her for what he could before he left town, but while they were married, Noah and his brother Alex were living it up at the Baxter estate.
“Lottie.” Noah gives me a stern look. “Say the word and we’ll call this whole thing off.”
“He’s right.” Everett steps in and wraps his arms around me. “I’ll figure out a way to get your mother’s B&B back. We’ll sue,” he says. “I have an arsenal of attorneys at my fingertips who will make Cormack and Cressida wish they had never thought twice about the property.”
This talk show stunt was Cressida’s idea, and if I go through with it, my mother gets half her B&B back.
Noah nods. “And I’ve got access to a couple of jail cells in the back of the precinct. I’ll lock them up for a few days and they’ll be begging to gift it back to your mother.”
“You’re both hilarious.” I make a face. “But as it stands, Cormack isn’t giving up her half for anything. I’ve already offered her all the money in the world.” Not quite true but close. Although I’m not liquid. I’d have to sell every piece of property Grandma Nell left me, including my bakery, to get anywhere near purchasing half the B&B. It’s bad enough we’re buying out Cressida at fair market value. Cormack and Cressida bought the B&B when Noah’s wily father all but tricked my mother into selling it.
“This is your fault, Everett,” Noah says as he snaps up one of my chocolate chip cookies off the platter from the refreshment table and takes an angry bite. “If you hadn’t enticed Cressida into a full-blown obsession with you, she wouldn’t have cared about the B&B. She was trying to get closer to you and stick it to you at the very same time. She knows what hurts Lottie hurts you.”
“This is your fault, Noah,” Everett says as his chest expands with his very next breath. “It’s Cormack’s obsession with you that drove her to move into the inn to begin with.”
“So this is my fault?” Noah looks both amused and angry, not an easy combination to pull off.
“He’s sort of right,” I say. “I mean, he was dating Cormack back in high school. Had you not intervened, he and Cormack could have been married and divorced by now. And who
knows? Everett may have moved to another continent to get away from his ex-wife, and you and I might have been married and had six children by now.”
Noah sheds a dimpled grin. “Hear that, Everett? She’s fantasizing scenarios in which she’s still with me and you’re clear on the other side of the planet. Don’t worry, Lot. We can still make this happen. I’ve got a gun on me and I’m not afraid to use it. I’ll shoot at his feet. How long do you think before he boards a plane to Europe?”
I’m about to stave off the shootout when Lily Swanson, my right-hand gal down at the bakery, heads this way with another couple platters of my chocolate chip cookies. Lily was one of my high school tormentors, but now that I give her cold, hard cash in exchange for her time, we get along a whole lot better.
“Coming through!” she says, and both Noah and I part ways as she lands the cookies on the table. “I can’t believe you guys are starting to squabble already. This is going to be so exciting. Lottie, I just know one of your men is going to rip the other’s head off. Candace’s viewers are really going to get their who’s-your-daddy money’s worth today.”
My mouth opens to say something to her before my attention is hijacked by a red and brown rooster quickly scuttling his way across the studio floor, and he seems to be headed right for the stage.
“How do you like that?” I mutter to myself. I bet it’s for one of their animal segments. Wait, does this show have an animal segment?
“Don’t start with me, Noah,” Everett says it low and like a threat just as that tall, lanky woman I saw having a tense moment with Candace speeds in our direction. She looks about my age, adorable face with big brown eyes and a loose smile. She’s wearing jeans and a plain white T-shirt and is heading this way with a couple of men ensconced on either side of her.
“And these are our guests for today,” she says to the men as she looks my way. “I’m Kit Knickerson, your point person for the show. I run the behind the scenes activities. I believe you’re Lottie, Noah, and Everett?”