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Becca’s store tomorrow and see if she
remembers selling the tuxedo to our vic.”
    “Sounds good,” I said. “Let me know
if there’s anything else I can do.”
    “You know I will,” she said. “I’ll
see you around.”

CHAPTER
7
     
     
    The cool air felt refreshing as I
walked out to my car. The chaos and confusion of the past few hours had left me
feeling drained and weighed down by the heaviness of the mood throughout the
Lodge. It felt good to be surrounded by the hushed simplicity of early evening.
But as I reveled in the quiet moment, a woman’s voice came from nearby.
    “Well, hello again,” she said with
a haughty pitch. “It really is a small world, isn’t it?”
    When I turned around, I saw
Francine Tobin, the snobbish attorney who had stopped at Sky High earlier in
the day. I forced myself to smile as she came closer. There was a man trailing
behind her a few paces. He looked like one of the athletic models that
advertisers use to peddle cologne, leather jackets and sports cars. His
complexion looked impossibly smooth and his full lips were like sculpted swoops
of pink dough. His hair was thick and wavy, molded to his head with what seemed
gallons of something glossy. He was dressed in faded jeans, hiking boots and a
navy shawl-collar sweater.
    “Did you come to chat about our
offer?” Francine said, casting a quick glance at Mr. Handsome.
    My face hurt from holding the smile
in place, but I wasn’t going to let down my guard. “Um. No, I had a delivery to
make.”
    She actually looked disappointed
for a brief moment before the icebergs reappeared in her eyes. “Well, I suppose
it won’t hurt for you two to meet.” Her frosty gaze bounced from me to the man
in the blue sweater. “Miss Reed,” she said with a flourish of theatrical
affectation. “This is Mr. Christopher Edgerly.”
    He offered his hand. When our
fingers touched, I wasn’t surprised by the glove-soft skin. He looked like the
kind of guy who slept in cocoa butter to preserve his youthful glow.
    “It’s most definitely a pleasure,”
he said in a smoky British accent. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”
    The smile on my face cracked. “To
what?” I asked. “Meeting me in the parking lot of the Crescent Creek Lodge?”
    I didn’t expect his laugh to sound
so much like burled oak and steel. It was solid and brawny, fading into the
frosty air in slow, cascading rolls of cheerfulness.
    “Well, meeting you,” he
said. “I hadn’t anticipated the where of it exactly.”
    The where of it , my
inner killjoy sniped. Does he think we’re in a Hugh Grant movie or
something?
    “Okay, so…” I glanced at Francine
Tobin. She looked like an unhappy elf who’d just learned that Santa Claus isn’t
hiring for the season. “It was nice to see you again. But if you’ll excuse me,
it’s been a long day and I—”
    “Mr. Edgerly is my client,” the
forlorn sprite announced. “He has great interest in acquiring your property,
Miss Reed.”
    Aha! chirped the voice in my
head. Another mystery solved .
    “Yes, I had hoped we might sit down
over dinner to discuss my offer,” said the good-looking shark. “I’m most
interested in making it very worth your while, Kate.”
    My first name sounded hollow and
tarnished coming from his collagen-enhanced lips. Even so, I managed to bolster
my withering grin into another gleaming smile as I explained that Sky High Pies
wasn’t on the market.
    “What did you think of our
proposal?” asked Francine Tobin.
    “Well…I think it’s still sitting
unopened on my desk,” I answered. “And, once again, that’s because Sky High
isn’t for sale. I’ve only just taken over from my parents, so—”
    “Only just?” the attorney scoffed.
“It’s been several months, Miss Reed.”
    I ignored her completely; my gaze
was locked on Christopher Edgerly’s translucent jade eyes. For a brief moment,
I felt the magnetism of his splendor, the undeniable allure of his