Angel in Disguise (18 page)

He sneaked another glance at Sunny. TV viewers
would do a double take when they saw her in this segment. The first time they’d been on, she could have passed for a working girl on Wilshire Boulevard. Tonight she was still a knockout, but Rodeo Drive all the way. That dress probably cost more than he used to make in a week, maybe two. Light purple, the color of lilacs in the spring, it clung in all the right places and had a short skirt that showed off those fantastic legs. Her strappy high heels were a big improvement over her hiking boots, and her hair, shining like copper, curled softly around her pretty face.

He’d told himself, after tonight he’d stay in his safe, familiar routine where he didn’t have to think, where he couldn’t possibly fail. Only, he didn’t feel like a failure with Sunny, and now that God was in his life, did he need the routine? Today had been rather boring. There had to be something better for him.

He’d like to keep seeing Sunny, though she could sure do better than him. From her description of her parents’ place, his Sylvan City house could probably fit into their garage. She’d mentioned meeting the queen of England, the pope, even Clint Eastwood. Pete had seen them on TV. He and Sunny were worlds apart, a distance not even his current bank balance could bridge.

She was closer to the backstage monitor than he was, and he leaned her way, as if he wanted to see the screen better. She shifted her body aside to allow him better vision, and he smelled her perfume,
something fruity that made him think of sunshine, peaches and cream.

On the screen Mike Michaels said, “A couple of weeks back, our audience matched a carpenter named Pete with a basketball coach named Sunny.” Across the monitor flickered an edited version of the show when they’d met. “As always, our producers had Pete and Sunny’s favorites in mind when they designed their dream date. Sunny said she liked to cook for her dates. Pete said he liked home-cooked meals. So, the first part of their date was Pot-Roast-At-Sunny’s-Place!”

Pete watched himself drive up to Sunny’s condo and walk to her door with the rose in his hand. He felt even sillier now, watching himself on TV, than he had then.

“Aw,” intoned the emcee, “Pete brought Sunny a flower.”

They edited right to the first kiss, and Michaels said, “Now, that’s the way to greet a date, right, folks?”

Sunny murmured, “That looked like a pretty good kiss.”

“Pretty good, nothing. It was a great kiss.” It was the kiss that jolted him out of his solitary existence.

“And here’s Pete helping out in the kitchen. He looks like he knows what he’s doing, doesn’t he?“

“I’m glad one of us did,” she said softly with a giggle.

He loved hearing her laugh.

From Part Two of the date, they showed the playful peekaboo scene, their kiss under the big lodgepole
pine and the helicopter landing on the hospital roof. He groaned, embarrassed at being portrayed as an invalid.

“I had to have my way about that trail,” she whispered, her face drawn, her big eyes so sad, he couldn’t take it.

“Hey, none of that.” He put his arm around her. “We’ve already had this discussion. Okay?”

Her eyes searched his face. If his life depended on it, he couldn’t have looked away. He wanted her to look inside his heart and see how much he wanted her there, needed her there.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Mike said, “let’s welcome Pete and Sunny back to
Dream Date.
”

The audience applauded and the stage manager cued them to go.

He couldn’t move.

“Take my hand,” Sunny whispered.

Like a man clutching hope, he took it, and once again walked into blinding bright light. Only, this time, he wasn’t alone.

“They’re holding hands, folks. That’s a good sign.”

The audience applauded as they took the sofa beside Mike.

“Tell me, Sunny,” the emcee asked, “was your date with Pete all you expected it would be?”

“No, it wasn’t. Not at all,” she said, shaking her head, glancing at Pete apologetically.

Whoa! He hadn’t expected that.

“You can see that Pete is a very handsome man…”

The audience applauded The Face.

“But I really dreaded going out with Pete. My experience with handsome men had been awful.”

It sounded like she was getting ready to burn him, but he knew better than that.

“I assumed Pete was as conceited and full of himself as the last handsome guy I knew. That man—” she looked straight at the camera “—and you know who you are…”

“Oooooh,” the audience responded, backing her up.

“That man was a complete disappointment. When I got matched with Pete, I was ready for the worst.”

“Uh-oh, I’m almost afraid to ask. How did it go?”

“Mike, it was fabulous! Pete is the most wonderful man I’ve ever met.” She turned and blasted him with that thousand-watt smile.

He swallowed hard.

“This guy doesn’t have an ounce of conceit in his whole body. Unbelievable, isn’t it, ladies?”

Applause burst from the audience. Pete felt hot color creep up his neck, but he didn’t mind. This was for the congressman, not him.

“That’s not all,” Sunny continued. “Pete’s the most caring man I’ve ever met. The only thing that’s wrong with him…” She paused and glanced his way apologetically.

He wasn’t worried. Much.

“Pete just doesn’t realize how great he is.”

“Ahhh,” the audience approved.

His girl had poured it on pretty thick, but they
seemed to be buying it. He slipped his arm around her, cuddling her, playing along. Playing along? What a lie. He loved holding her.

Mike rubbed his hands together. “It’s looking good, folks, really good. Pete, was the date all you expected it to be?”

Pete looked into Sunny’s soft, butternut eyes. He owed her a lot. Even before she’d said all those nice things, he’d planned what he was going to say. “My date with Sunny—” he paused, letting tension build “—was the best date I’ve ever had. In fact, she’s the best woman I’ve ever known.” That was for Lisa and the congressman.

“Wow!” the emcee exclaimed.

“Sunny’s everything a man wants in a woman. She’s intelligent, understanding, fun to be with, and you should have seen how she took care of me when I was injured.” He found the camera with the red light and said to her ex, “Any man who had Sunny’s love and didn’t cherish and appreciate her would be a real fool.”

The audience applauded wildly.

“Mike, you can see how pretty she is, but inside, where it counts most, Sunny is even more beautiful.”

“Whew!” Michaels exclaimed. “That’s got me all choked up. I’m glad for you kids. At this time I usually ask if the date was a dream or a nightmare, but I think we already know. What was it, audience?”

“A dreeeeeeeam.”

Sunny looked at him as if he’d just hung the
moon especially for her. Her eyes brimmed with tears, ready to spill any second. He bent his head, she circled his neck with her arms and he was smack in the middle of desire. The feel of her mouth, her arms, her sweet warm body—it was all he could ever want.

Chapter Eleven

B
ruce smoothed the side of his hair where bejeweled fingers ruffled it. He didn’t like women touching his hair, but he had to put up with it. Too late he’d learned that Margo Price ratted her lovers out to her husband when they stopped making her happy, and too late he’d discovered her husband was a very scary guy. Everyone close to the senator knew Clive Price was on the staff because he’d do anything—snoop, steal, even worse.

For now he was stuck with her, but Margo would have to leave him alone when he got back with Sunny. That almost made it worth the hoops he would have to jump through.

“I hear Li’l Sunshine’s joining us today,” Margo said, angling her mouth on his.

“Easy, woman, before I forget there’s not much privacy in a pool cabana. Let me get you a drink.”

“Who needs a drink when I’ve got Brucey Daniels?” Margo giggled.

He gave her a naughty wink. “Brucey’s not on the menu today, Margo. I’m saving myself for Sunshine.”

“Then you should have gone to church with her.” Margo laughed at her own wit.

“I’m not that desperate.”

“Clive said she fell for that like a ton of bricks.”

“I knew she would,” he said, giving himself a mental pat on the back.

Margo touched up her lips. “After what she did to you, I can’t believe you want her back.”

“What I want doesn’t come into it. Sam and Eleanor want her back! They treat me like the son they never had, but blood’s still thicker than water. They want a marriage.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. You’re Sam’s boy.”

“Maybe so, but it’s a long road to the White House. If Sam hadn’t been waylaid by the morality crowd, he’d have made it himself. I need a wife who knows the ropes. Sunny’s perfect.”

Margo handed him a tissue. “If you want to be perfect yourself, you might want to wipe my lipstick off your mouth.”

He grinned, complying. “How’s that?”

“Lovely. Let’s see what Eleanor’s serving. I’m starving.”

“You leave first. I’m going to mingle a while.”

Bruce watched her meander toward a group sipping cold drinks under a white tent that shaded them from the hot California sun. In the gazebo a small band played the easy-listening music Eleanor Keegan preferred at these affairs.

Two young women wearing oversize Easter bonnets
organized an egg roll contest for the kids of a hundred or so financial supporters and political operatives who chatted around the pool and garden. No one was eating yet, but under shady trees were tables laid with pink linen, silver and baskets of flowers.

One of Sam’s aides approached the band and whispered something in the keyboard player’s ear, probably an order to play the senator’s theme song, for the band broke into it, and Sam emerged from the house, Eleanor on one arm, Sunny on the other.

They were a handsome family, waving at their guests, accepting applause. Eleanor’s sleek blond coiffure and pink designer outfit suited her petite stature, but she paled beside the senator and Sunny. So alike no one would question their relationship, the pair had the same vivid coloring, slim build and magnetic smile. From here the senator looked the picture of health, and Sunny, in her yellow suit, was a bright beacon.

She seemed different than she’d been a year ago, more confident and sure of herself. She’d be an asset to his career, all right. He couldn’t afford to mess this up today.

Sam and his advisers had planned this day as carefully as any campaign event. All he had to do was lay low, allowing Sunny time to get comfortable with the guests, most of whom she hadn’t seen since the wedding. After she filled her plate, he would stroll up and give her a friendly peck on the cheek.

If that went well, they’d share a table with her parents, chat about her work at school and segue into how much they all missed her. When he got her
alone, he’d grovel and promise anything to get her back.

If that didn’t work, they would go to Plan B. He sincerely hoped they wouldn’t need “B,” but bottom line, a man did what a man had to do. At least it would give them a photo.

To Sunny, it was déjà vu from the moment they gathered in the drawing room to this ridiculous parody of a royal family greeting their subjects. She stood by her parents, waving to people she thought she’d never see again. The past year might never have happened. She’d vowed she wouldn’t get caught up in politics again, but if she were to have a relationship with her parents, this was the price.

At least she’d gotten them to church today. Mother hadn’t been real happy about her wearing Grandmother’s pearl-and-diamond pin with a casually styled suit, even it if it was silk, but everything else seemed to go well.

She hadn’t been able to tell if her parents enjoyed the service or not. Daddy could beam at a crowd and mutter, “Parasites,” under his breath. Mother could rapture over a two-piece harmonica band as if it were the philharmonic. With them, you never really knew.

Greeting guests, shaking hands, exchanging hugs, Sunny was amazed at how easily the routine came back to her. She’d dreaded this, but either the Lord had smoothed the way or she’d underestimated the compassion of her parents’ friends.

Mother was astonishingly gracious, and Daddy looked as if he would bust his buttons, bragging on
how she’d coached her team to the regional championship. Too bad he’d missed every game.

Once she had taken all this for granted, but since tacos with the team had been her social highlight, she noticed the extravagant elegance. On the buffet table, an ice-sculptured bunny appeared to dance on fresh flowers. She leaned toward her mother and said, “I love the bunny, Mother. Top hat and all.”

“Isn’t he adorable. It’s Fernando’s work, of course.”

Fernando? She wasn’t in the loop anymore, but maybe next year, for the basketball banquet, Fernando could sculpt a girl doing a lay-up. That would knock ’em out in the school cafeteria.

Passing the dessert table, she noticed Cook had outdone herself as usual. Caterers prepared everything else, but nobody did sweets like Cook, and her mother left those to her.

There was pastry-covered brie topped with apricots and walnuts, caramel-almond crepes, berry and lemon tarts, meringue baskets filled with fruit, bunny-shaped sugar cookies and her favorite, a Royale Chambord chocolate-raspberry cake.

She smiled, knowing Cook had made it for her. The kitchen would be off-limits right now, but later there would be time for hugs and catching up with those who’d lovingly raised her.

Returning to her mother, she said, “Cook’s goodies look out of this world. I want some of everything.”

Her mother laughed gaily and gave her a hug.

Eleanor Keegan had never been a happy, hugging mother. Vicious quips and negative critique were
more the norm. The way Eleanor was today, her girls would say aliens had stashed the real mom in a body pod. She’d say her mother may have found the Lord. That would be the most glorious thing.

“I’m filling plates for your father and me. Why don’t you choose some food so we can sit down together?”

Sunny couldn’t remember when her parents had eaten with her at one of these things, but it would be lovely, and she was suddenly starved. From the bountiful selection, she helped herself to several jumbo shrimp and a tender slice of beef brisket, passing a rack of lamb and a huge Virginia ham with their sauces.