Flavor Of The Month (Kiss & Tell Book 2) (17 page)

“What is this for?” Debbie asked, holding up a bar of Hershey’s chocolate with almonds.

Reilly took it from her. “That’s for me to know and you to guess about.”

Debbie put her hands on her hips. “If I’m the one who’s footing the bill until you get some money coming in, I have the right to know.”

“So I’ll go to the bank later, buy a money order—you do know I still have bank accounts, right?—and reimburse you.” She waved at her with a wooden spoon. “Just don’t bother the cook when she’s cooking. Did you get a newspaper?”

No answer.

Reilly turned to watch her sister, who was pretending she didn’t hear Reilly, unpack her bags.

“Hello?” she said, coming to stand next to her. She looked inside the bags, spotted the paper, then fought her sister for it.

Debbie sighed. “You’re not going to like what you see in there.”

Reilly made a face. “What could they possibly run that they haven’t already?”

Unfortunately she found out. Right there, in vivid color and larger than life, was a picture of Ben with his companion du jour Heidi Klutzenhoffer.

“Oh, God.” She pulled out a chair and plopped down in it.

Sure, Ben loved her just the way she was. That explained why he’d run right back into the arms of his model girlfriend.

She resisted the urge to knock her head against the kitchen table. She wondered if he made Heidi wear the granny panties then threw her into his hot tub.

“I warned you.”

“Yeah, well, not strongly enough.”

They heard a knock on the front door, then Mallory was striding into the kitchen looking like a woman on a mission. Even her T-shirt looked up to any task. Get Out of My Way or Risk Death, it read.

“You’ll never guess what I found out?” she asked.

“That Ben’s dating Heidi again?” Reilly offered.

Mallory blinked at her. “What?”

“Nothing.”

Debbie was at the stove. “Should I do something here?”

“Let it all burn.”

Mallory and Debbie exchanged glances. Reilly sighed then pushed from the chair. Within twenty seconds she had switched all the burners off and covered the pans sitting there.

Mallory was talking to her sister. “Do you have a computer?”

Debbie nodded. “Yes. Upstairs in Efi’s room. Although I don’t know when it’s been touched lately, except to be dusted.”

Mallory led the way out of the room. “As long as it has Internet access, I don’t care how long it’s been dormant.”

Reilly thought about not following the energetic twosome. Except the only place she really wanted to go in that moment was Efi’s bedroom. Specifically so she could climb back between the sheets of the guest bed and disappear for another week or so. Or until the image of Heidi Klutzenhoffer holding on to Ben’s arm and looking like she belonged there went away. Which might be never.

Mallory had already booted up the computer and was doing a search on the Web by the time Reilly dragged herself to stand in front of the open bedroom door.

“You see,” Mall was saying, “there’s one open question regarding all this fire stuff.”

Debbie was nodding. “Namely, who started it.”

Reilly would have waved her arms if she could have moved. “Hello? Isn’t anyone concerned that my heart is breaking?”

“No,” Mallory and Debbie said in unison.

“Great.” Reilly crossed over to Efi’s bed and sank down on it. The position gave her a clear view of the computer screen.

“Anyway, remember how I told you, Rei, that that guy Johnnie Thunder gives me the creeps? Yes, well, turns out there was a very good reason.”

She clicked on a link from the search engine then held out her hand like one of the display models on
The Price Is Right.

Reilly squinted at the screen. “What?” All she saw was a Web page with a black background that was taking forever to load and the words Johnnie Thunder flashing across it. Cinder jumped into her lap and she absently patted him.

“Get that cat off the bed,” Debbie said.

“He’s not on the bed—he’s on my lap.”

“Same difference.”

Reilly ignored her, watching as graphics on the Web page loaded.

Mallory sighed. “This thing is ancient. You need an update.”

“No, I don’t. No one uses it.”

“Well, it’s no wonder if you have to wait so long for a Web page to download.”

Reilly shared an exasperated glance with Cinder then rolled her eyes, her heart feeling like it had doubled in weight since seeing the picture of Ben with Heidi. It beat against her ribs so hard she half expected to hear bones begin to crack. And, damn it, it was getting awfully hard not to cry. Especially since Cinder seemed to catch wind of her shaky emotional state and rubbed his head against her jaw, his purring seeming to say, “It’s going to be all right, Reilly.”

“No, it’s not,” Reilly whispered.

Mallory and Debbie looked at her.

“Did you say something?” Mall asked.

Reilly shook her head and blinked really hard. “No.”

Mallory turned toward Reilly’s sister. “Is Ben really back with Heidi?”

Debbie slapped the newspaper, folded back to the picture, across Mall’s stomach.

Mallory held it in front of her. “Slimy bastard. I knew it.”

“Shut up,” Reilly said evenly. “You even begin to breathe the words ‘I told you so’ and I hit you over the head with Efi’s softball bat.”

Debbie frowned. “Efi doesn’t have a softball bat.”

“She does now, because I bought her one. And, by the way, she’s joining a team next spring.”

Mallory tapped the screen. “There! Can you make that out?”

Reilly leaned forward, nearly smushing Cinder as she squinted at the Web page. Her eyes slowly began to widen. “Is that Sugar ’n’ Spice?”

As part of a pictorial montage, the front of the former shop was prominently displayed—along with a picture of Reilly smiling in front of it.

“How did Johnnie get that picture? I never posed for him. I never posed for anyone.”

“You didn’t have to,” Mallory said, clicking on another link. “The guy was a walking camera. Wait, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

The pages she downloaded from there, named “Johnnie’s Obsession,” made Reilly’s skin crawl. There she was, spattered all over his Web site…along with a few shots of Ben with a red target drawn over him. If that wasn’t bad enough, poems accompanied each page, and in one Johnnie spoke of “Sugar ’n’ Spice might be very nice, but my soul mate won’t look at me twice until I take the store from her life.”

“Jesus,” Debbie said, piling Reilly’s thoughts into one word.

“Wait, there’s more,” Mall said.

Reilly held up a hand. “I don’t think I can handle more.”

But Mallory had already clicked on another page and up popped dozens of her fat pictures.

“How did he get those?” Reilly whispered.

Mallory hit a key and the screen went blank. “It’s my guess that Johnnie was making himself at home at your apartment when you weren’t there.”

Which was pretty much a majority of the time because she’d been down in the shop so much.

Mallory swiveled the chair she was sitting in around and held out her cell phone. Reilly took it and immediately dialed the number for the arson investigator in charge of her case. She was put on hold.

Mallory crossed her arms over her T-shirt. “Who’d have thought that Reilly would have her own personal stalker?”

Reilly ignored her and talked her way through the events. “I can’t believe this is happening. Johnnie seemed…so harmless. I mean, sure, he asked me out, but I didn’t think anything of it. And I certainly didn’t have any idea that he’d do…something like that.”

“It’s the harmless ones you have to watch out for,” Mallory said.

Events and causes started to match up in Reilly’s head. “All the problems Ben had at the restaurant…his chef getting mugged…the weird sounds I heard at the apartment. Johnnie showing up at the drop of a hat.” She shuddered straight down to her bones. “But why switch his attentions from Ben to me?”

Debbie had remained pretty much silent until that point. “Because what he was doing to Ben wasn’t scaring him off the way it should, maybe?”

“Sending the fat pictures to the press…framing me for the fire.” Reilly closed her eyes, still waiting for the investigator to come on line. “When I think of all the things he could have been doing over the past six months….” Her gaze flew to Mallory. “What if he erases the site?”

Mallory held up a CD. “Already ahead of you there.”

Debbie took a cocky stance. “Screw the police. I say we go see to this guy ourselves.”

Reilly couldn’t believe her sister was saying what she was. Thankfully she was saved from answering when the investigator finally came on the line and she told him everything they had just discovered.

Johnnie Thunder had failed to make himself a part of her life, so he’d set out to destroy it instead.

T
HE FOLLOWING
Monday morning, Reilly sat with Layla and Mallory at a coffee shop/bookstore central to all four of them. The L.A. area’s four major newspapers and a couple of minor ones were divided among them, but they were waiting for Jack before they would begin to scour the papers for ongoing news of Johnnie Thunder’s arrest.

Mallory sipped her coffee and toyed with the sweet roll she’d bought from the chain franchise. She made a face. “These guys ain’t got nothing on Sugar ’n’ Spice.” She brushed her hands together to rid them of crumbs. She’d hardly touched the sweet when sometimes it seemed she lived only on sweets. “When are you going to reopen the doors again, anyway? I don’t know if I can stand it if you go too long.”

Reilly smiled from ear to ear and produced a bag of her own sticky buns. “Just make sure you save a couple for Jack.”

“No way!” Mallory said, today’s T-shirt saying You Snooze, You Lose.

“You didn’t answer her question,” Layla pointed out.

“No, I didn’t, did I?” She shrugged her shoulders. “I won’t know for sure until later today, but I think I found a new location.”

Layla sat up, her mouth full of sticky bun. “Really? That’s great!”

“I’ll only be renting in the beginning, but the owner says he might be interested in selling down the line. And if he does, then my rent money can go toward the final sale.”

“Sounds fishy to me,” Mallory said.

Reilly made a face. “That’s because everything sounds fishy to you.”

“Get him to agree to a land contract. That way you’re both covered.”

“I’m on top of it, Mall.” She looked down at the newspapers before her. It had been two days since they’d figured out that Johnnie Thunder was behind not only the torching of Sugar ’n’ Spice, but the troubles that Ben had encountered, as well. Johnnie, a thirtysomething only child of an older Hollywood couple, who lived off his trust fund, had been arrested and the district attorney’s office had promised to go all the way with attempted murder charges. While there were some pretty strong stalking laws in the books, Johnnie had crossed the line into breaking the law. Efi’s injuries and Johnnie’s having reported seeing “Reilly” in the apartment when it caught on fire were pretty condemning.

At this point, though, Reilly was happy that the press had shifted their attention from her and her fat pictures to Johnnie.

“I’ve got to look,” she said, unable to wait another minute for Jack.

The instant the words were out of her mouth, all three of them attacked their papers, scanning the front pages, then opening them to the second pages and the local news sections, then finally they moved on to the entertainment section.

Chubby Chuddy…

Reilly cringed when she read the headline across the top of a photograph. Damn, she’d thought that was all over with. She dropped her gaze to see which photo they’d gotten of her now. Only the picture wasn’t of her. Rather it was a grainy black-and-white shot of an overweight dark-haired guy.

“Great. Now they’ve turned me into a transsexual,” she muttered under her breath. She really didn’t know how the real celebrities handled it. The rumors. The innuendo. The out-and-out lies.

Layla gasped. “Oh, God, Reilly, read the piece for cripe’s sake.”

She began doing just that.

Mallory sighed. “Aloud. We have different papers, remember?”

Reilly looked around, but thankfully no one was within earshot. “Lardo Benardo Loves Chubby…”

Her voice trailed off as the words registered. Her heart pitched down to her feet then back up again.

“Give me that,” Mallory said, snatching the paper from her trembling hands. “Popular restaurateur, and celebrity in his own right, Ben Kane of Benardo’s Hideaway shared a secret with this reporter over the holiday weekend. Not only did gorgeous Ben used to be a hundred pounds overweight, he confided to me over coffee and frozen cheesecake he had left over from the late and great Sugar ’n’ Spice pastry shop that he’s fallen madly in love with someone. Someone who’s grown familiar to us over the past week. Reilly Chudowski, once known as Chubby Chuddy and now cleared of any wrongdoing in connection to the fire that destroyed her shop, Sugar ’n’ Spice….”

Mallory went on, but Reilly wasn’t listening anymore. At least not to her friend’s words. Rather, she was concentrating on the unsteady thrum of her heart. The longing in her stomach. The need that filled her to overflowing.

“Listen to this,” Layla said, having leaned in closer to Mall. “Since Ben has lately been linked closely to Danish supermodel Heidi Klutzenhoffer, I called to ask her to comment on my piece before it went to press. Her words, verbatim, were, ‘Ben and I were and continue to be nothing but friends. But I suppose I’ll be looking elsewhere for an escort from now on.”’

Mallory howled with laughter. “The reporter probably gave Heidi a heart attack when she shared Ben’s previous weight problem.”

Layla picked up the latest copy of the
L.A. Monthly
and flipped it open. “Hmm…I wonder if this explains Jack’s obvious absence.”

“What?” Mallory said, craning to get a look.

Layla held the paper where she couldn’t see it while Reilly tried to keep her swimming head from pulling her under.

“It’s Jack’s column. And guess what his topic is?” She looked over the paper at Reilly. “Lardo Benardo and Chubby Chuddy.”

Mallory feigned a shudder. “God, I thought Chubby Chuddy was bad. Rei, Lardo Benardo is far worse, babe.”

“Listen,” Layla said. “In this la-la-land of coffee enemas and gold-plated vomit sticks, where do two one-time overweight people who both own food businesses that even the most weight-conscious L.A. angel can’t resist, fit in? In this columnist’s humble opinion, they don’t. And they shouldn’t have to either. Because what you have are two unique people who understand what it’s like to be societal outcasts, and have come out of those shadows not only to survive, but thrive. With each other.”

A sniffling sound made Layla stop and both she and Reilly looked at Mallory, who was balling like a baby.

“That’s so sweet!”

“No, it’s not. It’s the truth.”

The threesome turned to find that Jack had finally made it. In fact, Reilly had the funny feeling that he’d been lurking somewhere within the shop for some time, waiting for the right moment to join them.

As her throat choked off air, and her eyes burned with the tears Mallory openly shed, Reilly wasn’t all that sure now was the right moment for her.

“Oh, Reilly,” Mallory was saying, grabbing for her hands where they sat on the table. “I’m so so sorry for everything I said against Ben. I…I…”

Jack stared at her. “You judged him by appearances, Mall.”

An earsplitting sob broke from her friend’s mouth, making Reilly start blubbering and Layla look a blink away from joining them.

“Yes, I did!” Mallory admitted, for the first time looking completely unsure of herself. “Oh, Reilly, can you ever forgive me?”

Reilly tightly clutched her friend’s hands. “There’s nothing to forgive, Mall. You never said anything that I wasn’t already thinking.”

“You have my full permission to marry him.”

Layla finally gave in and joined the hand-holding convention, adding a few of her own tears to the mix. “I’m so glad you two are making up. There were a couple of times when I didn’t think our special friendship would survive your bickering.”

The words “special friendship” sent them all back to blubbering.

Jack sighed heavily, then got up from the table. “I need a drink. Anyone else want a coffee?”

The three women ignored him, talking over one another in an effort to share every fear, every hope, every wistful dream the past few minutes had inspired in them.

“I’ve got to go,” Reilly said absently.

Layla and Mallory stared at her.

Reilly blinked, realizing what she’d said. “I’ve got to go!” she repeated.

Mallory got up and helped her put her jacket on while Layla hung her purse over her shoulder. Then they were both hugging and kissing her as if they might never see her again. As Reilly ran up to Jack and gave him a quick hug and a heartfelt thank-you then hurried for the door, she wondered if her last words weren’t closer to the truth than she’d realized. Well, the old Reilly was finally gone forever.

B
EN SAT
going over the accounts receivable numbers then made a notation in the left-hand margin of the printout. Only it didn’t look right so he used his calculator to go over the numbers again and found his original tally was short two hundred dollars. He erased the notation and wrote a fresh one, wondering if he should check the sum again.

Truth be told, he was having a hard time concentrating this morning. A full day had passed since he’d met with both the reporter from the
L.A. Confidential
and with Reilly’s friend, columnist Jack Daniels, to help him in his quest to bring Reilly back into his life.

No one had known of his past. Not even he and his father ever discussed how large he’d been as a teen. And since his path rarely, if ever, crossed anyone’s he’d known back then, it had been quite some time since he’d even given his former weight a great deal of thought.

Until he’d seen the fat pictures Johnnie Thunder had sent to the tabloids.

And he also came to realize a few things about himself. The reason why he was still unmarried and drawn solely to model types before Reilly, was that he had been working out all those years of rejection and shame left over from high school. He had been evening the score, so to speak. And, he supposed, he was still regaining some of that ground when he gave the
Confidential
reporter Heidi’s number and asked her to call the redhead for a comment. He could have killed himself when Heidi had called the day of the premiere to remind him of their date. With everything going on he’d forgotten to have his publicist call and offer his regrets. So, he’d gone to the premiere, with Heidi sporting a mysterious solitaire diamond ring on her ring finger, and he’d had one of the most miserable times of his life knowing that Reilly would see the pictures and be devastated.

That’s why he’d derived an evil pleasure out of knowing that Heidi was probably hovering above a toilet now barfing up her orange juice, you know, to make doubly sure that just being near him wouldn’t make her fat.

Ah, yes, the dreaded fat gene. He’d inherited it. And, so it appeared, had Reilly. And that alone was enough to make those body-conscious people interested in procreating run screaming in the other direction.

He secretly hoped that every last one of the six kids he and Reilly had inherited the gene, as well. Because in his experience, some of the best people walking the earth were fat people.

First, of course, he had to convince Reilly to have those kids with him….

How would she react to the news? Of course there was always the possibility that she’d been so irreversibly scarred by her experience with obesity that she’d run away from him, herself. But if she thought that today’s surprise in the newspapers was something, just wait until she saw what he had planned to run every day until she finally gave in.

He heard rapid footsteps on the tile outside his office and looked up to find the woman in question pink cheeked and out of breath….

And grinning from ear to ear.

“I got here as fast I could,” she whispered.

Ben briefly closed his eyes, savoring the moment. It had been so hard to wait for her to come back to him. He’d known last week, while sitting outside with Efi in the car watching Reilly return with her friends, that while he’d been willing to push her in the beginning, in order for them to go anywhere from there Reilly would have to seek him out on her own steam. And that the way to go about getting her back couldn’t be anything traditional. She would have been prepared for that. Flowers, candy, repeated phone calls and unexpected visits, she would have been able to reject.

Reilly was a special woman who needed special attention.

And he was so relieved he’d been able to give it to her that it was almost impossible to speak.

Reilly cleared her throat. “You know, you put your entire career as a restaurateur on the line with that little stunt you pulled this morning.”

Ben pushed from his chair, filled with the urge to pull her into his arms and squeeze her within an inch of her life.

Instead he stayed put. Reilly had to come to him. Fully.

“I know,” he said simply.

Reilly’s brows briefly knit together. “And you were willing to risk that?”

“To have you standing here in front of me for just one minute?” He slowly nodded. “Yes.”

“Oh, God.” She rushed into his arms and melted against him. And for the first time since she’d disappeared from his life a week ago, he felt complete again. Whole. Like a lost limb had not only been reconnected but was in full working order.

He pressed his lips against her sweet-smelling hair, unwilling to let her go for fear that she might run from him again. “Oh, how I’ve missed you Reilly Chudowski.”

He heard the click of her throat as she swallowed. “All I know is that the only time I don’t obsess about everything is when I’m with you.”

“So be with me. Always.”

He heard her quiet laugh, her tight embrace telling him she’d missed him, too.

“Oh, how am I ever going to be able to trust you?” she whispered.

“Come to work with me here,” he said.

She pulled back slightly, giving him a teasing smile. “Why? So I can watch over you?” she asked. “Being faithful isn’t just about the lack of opportunity, Ben.”

“You’re right, it isn’t. But what you will see is that I only have eyes for you.”

She pressed her cheek tightly against his chest. “I hate this,” she murmured. “It’s not really a matter of whether I can trust you, is it? I know you haven’t been fooling around. I know it with everything I am. No. This whole…trust issue is really about me. About whether or not I can trust myself to trust you.”

Ben didn’t have an answer for that one, so he didn’t offer one.