Page 20 of Sugar and Spice (Glitter and Sparkle #3)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Mason mutters a curse under his breath when we get close to the lodge. Chrissy and Christy are standing in the driveway, chatting in the storm.

What the heck. Why? Why would they yap at each other in the snow when they could go inside and have the world’s best cup of coffee in the dining room?

“I hate myself for saying this, but you need to duck,” Mason says. “Fast.”

I whip off my seat belt and crouch on the floor, well under the window. Placing my hands on the seat and setting my chin on them, I angle my head toward Mason. “Good thing this wasn’t a date, huh? This would be an unusual way to end it.”

He grins, but he doesn’t dare look my way. We pull into the lodge, and Mason gives the women a curt wave of acknowledgment.

“Do you think they suspected anything?” I ask.

Mason glances in the rearview window. “I don’t know, but they’re headed this way.”

“What do I do?” I ask, growing a touch frantic.

They can’t see us together. They’ll make such a fuss about it, Tammy might have no choice but to toss Sadie and me off the show.

“Stay here. I’ll draw them away. Wait two minutes, and then make a run for the side door.”

“Got it.”

He quickly gets out of the car and shuts the door before Chrissy or Christy can see inside. They call to him in high-pitched, flirtatious voices that make me want to gag. They’ve got to be twenty years older than him—at the very least.

True to his word, Mason encourages the women to move inside and out of the weather. I wait several long minutes after it goes quiet, and then I stick my head up, feeling very much like a prairie dog poking out of her hole.

Another inch of snow has accumulated since this morning, and more is on its way. Even though it’s not quite dark yet, the street lights at the entrance have flickered on. There are plenty of empty cars and several of the network’s vans, but I see no sign of people.

Cautiously, I open the door. Unfortunately, just as I’m stepping out, another car pulls into the lot. I freeze, hoping to act casual as Jerome grins at me from the passenger seat of Cole’s Jeep. Jessica and Anne are in the backseat.

Please don’t let them realize whose car I just exited.

“Can you believe this snow!” Jessica calls to me as she gets out. She holds her hands to the sky, looking like she’s going to twirl. “It’s amazing.”

Cole shakes his head. “Tennessee girls,” he teases Jessica. “What do you think of the snow, Harper?”

I shrug, happy we’re talking about the storm and not Mason. “It makes for good boarding.”

“That it does.” Jerome helps Anne from the backseat. “What did you do with your day? I thought you were going to join us on the slope.”

Instead of answering, I avoid. “Anne! What did you do to your leg?”

Jessica’s cousin limps through the snow, clinging to Jerome’s arm.

She rolls her eyes. “I slipped in the parking lot. I don’t think it’s sprained, only twisted.”

I eye the girl’s ankle. It’s already swelling under her leggings. “Are you sure?”

Anne winces when she attempts to put pressure on the bad ankle. “No.”

Just the thought of trying to traverse the baking kitchen on crutches makes me cringe.

As soon as we step inside, I find Mason cornered next to the fireplace by both Chrissy and Christy. His posture is rigid, and he wears a pained smile. Neither appears to notice that they’re the cause of his irritation.

He glances our way and gives me a quick, subtle grimace.

“I’m just so glad we caught you as you were coming in,” Christy says, sounding as if she’s just about finished. “So, you’ll talk to Tammy?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Mason says. Even though I’m just a casual observer, and I have no idea what they are talking about, I can tell that’s a brush-off answer if I’ve ever heard one.

“Thank you so much, Mason.” Chrissy sets her hand on his arm. She giggles—which is nauseating—and takes a step closer, not caring a bit that she’s flirting with a man half her age. “It’s only fair we all get personal interviews with you.”

Ever polite, Mason doesn’t step away, but he does crane his neck backward, trying to put distance between them.

Finally, the plastic twins pull themselves away from the singer and head up the stairs, toward their rooms.

“That’s funny,” Cole whispers from behind me, leaning down so the others won’t hear. “You and Mason seem to have arrived back at the lodge at the same time, and you’re both wearing wet ski gear. Yet we didn’t see either of you on the slopes.”

I turn to face him, unsure how to respond. He only winks at me in a knowing way and excuses himself as his group veers toward the dining room.

“Anne, do you need anything?” I ask before she hobbles through the doorway.

The girl looks over her shoulder, flicking her strawberry blond ponytail aside. “No, I’ll be all right. I just need to get off it for a while.”

“And some ice,” Jessica adds, frowning at the swollen ankle.

“At least we don’t have a show tomorrow,” Jerome says. “You’ll have all day to rest.”

We exchange goodbyes, and I head up to my room. Riley and the others are probably in the dining hall, but I want to change out of my wet clothes before I join them.

It’s bad enough Cole made the connection. There’s no reason to give anyone else the chance to come to the same conclusion.

After a long, hot shower, I get ready to go downstairs but end up sitting on the bed, browsing recipes online. Somehow, I find myself stalking baking blogs.

When Riley comes in an hour later, I’m reading a post titled “How to Start a Culinary Blog in Five Easy Steps.” I just finished “Baking to Professional Blogging in Two Weeks or Less.”

“What are you doing?” Riley asks as she plops on the bed beside me. “Everyone’s finished dinner and started on dessert.”

My sister gives me a curious look after she reads a little of the article. “Do you want to start a blog, Harper?”

She sounds so dumbfounded, I almost snap the laptop shut and brush off the idea. But something stops me. Not quite looking at her, I say, “Maybe.”

“What kind of blog?”

And to my surprise, she doesn’t sound as skeptical as I feared. In fact, she doesn’t sound skeptical at all.

I nibble the side of my lip, scrolling through the article. “Baking.”

Growing enthusiastic, she scoots over to me and tries to steal my laptop. “That’s such a great idea! You could write recipes and takes tons of cute cupcake pictures. I saw one on Pinterest the other day that looked amazing!”

Frowning, I let her take my laptop. “What do you think Mom and Dad will say? I mean, it’ll take a while to get it going.”

And that gets her attention. My parents have always had high expectations for the two of us.

While they are willing to support us, as they did when I left home to go to Texas, they aren’t always open to suggestions.

As a joke, Riley told them she and Lauren were going to move to Los Angeles and major in performing arts.

It didn’t go over well. Even once they found out she was joking… yeah. It still didn’t go over well.

I can do whatever I want with my life as long as it’s something they’ll approve of.

I could be a doctor, architect, marine biologist, dentist, or graphic designer, but if I told them I was interested in starting a baking blog, they’d panic.

If I admitted that what I really want to do is write a cupcake cookbook…

I can’t even imagine.

“Tell them you want to major in business,” Riley says after thinking about it for a few minutes. “You want to do your own thing—be an entrepreneur. Nothing wrong with that.”

Maybe.

She looks up. “Honestly, Harper, it’s not even that surprising. You hate to take orders from people, and no one ever does enough to meet your expectations. You almost have to work for yourself, or all of your co-workers or underlings would hate you.”

“Thank you, Riley.” I give her a wry smile as I take back my laptop. “You’re a ray of sunshine as always.”

A wicked look crosses her face, and she grins. “If you don’t see yourself going for a business degree, you could always take Plan B.”

“And that would be?”

“Snag yourself a handsome, successful musician and make your blog a hobby,” she jokes.

I shake my head like she’s ridiculous, but for one brief moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like to date Mason—not for his money of course. Just to be with him. I give up after a few moments, because I’ve never been that fanciful, and I simply can’t picture it.

“He invited me to go with him to New York on Tuesday. He’s performing in a live Christmas special Wednesday evening.” I resume my original task, looking for cookie inspiration.

When Riley doesn’t answer, I turn to her.

Her mouth is agape. For the second time in two days, my sister has been rendered speechless.

“Do you think I should go?” I ask.

“Um— yes ,” she says like I’m the slowest person in the world.

She tosses her blond hair over her shoulder, reaches between us, and closes my laptop, making sure she has my full attention.

“I can’t believe you’re even thinking about turning him down.

New York, Harper. Live Christmas Special. Mason Knight. ”

Butterflies flutter in my stomach. It sounds so unreal—magical even. Mason’s right; I have a cynical side, and this is making it flare in a big way.

“Things like this don’t happen, Riley,” I tell her.

“But it’s happening to you. Why are you fighting it?”

Because there’s something in me that feels like I need to be above it…and if I’m not, then I’m no better than all the girls I’ve rolled my eyes at over the years. The last thing I want to be is a groupie. Just the thought makes the butterflies in my stomach up and die.

Riley hops off the bed. “Brood later. Cole and Jerome made a decadent looking chocolate cake this morning, and I want to snag a piece before it’s gone.”

“Traitor,” I tease. “Eating other people’s desserts.”

She laughs as she steps into the hall.

I give my laptop one last glance and then follow Riley out the door.