uncomfortable. “I might have heard a few things,” he mutters.
Stephanie glances curiously at Christopher. “Christopher, what on earth is he talking about?”
“In fact,” Cooper goes on, giving my hand a comforting squeeze, “it’s lucky for you, Stephanie, that it was Heather, and not someone else, who found you up here. She’s very good in a crisis. That’s one of the many reasons I’m marrying her.”
Chapter 5
Candy Man
I like candy
I’m a candy kind of girl
If you’ve got candy
Wanna give this girl a whirl?
I like candy
I eat it all I can
If you’ve got candy
Wanna be my candy man?
“Candy Man”
Written by Weinberger/Trace
Candy Man album
Cartwright Records
Fourteen consecutive weeks
in the Top 10 Billboard Hot 100
I stare at Cooper from across the Allingtons’ table. He’s just told someone that we’re getting married. He’s never admitted this out loud before to anyone. It’s supposed to be a secret. And now he’s announced it to the producer of his brother’s reality TV show.
What is he thinking?
Christopher Allington and Stephanie Brewer look about as shocked as I am.
“Fiancée, huh?” Christopher finds his voice first. “Wow. That’s great.”
His expression indicates that what he actually means is, Your funeral, buddy.
Stephanie can barely formulate a sentence.
“I . . . I had no idea. I thought . . . I understood you were friends, but I never imagined—”
“I believe the word you’re searching for, Ms. Brewer,” Cooper says, giving my hand a final squeeze before letting it go, “is ‘congratulations.’ ”
“Oh, of course,” Stephanie says. She smiles, but the gesture is more like a snarl. “It’s so great.”
I see Stephanie’s gaze drop to the ring finger of my left hand. It’s bare, of course.
As if he’s read her mind, Cooper says, “We’re eloping, so it’s a secret. If either of you tells anyone—including my brother or Tania—I’ll have no choice but to kill you.”
More of Stephanie’s teeth are exposed. She laughs, and it sounds like a horse’s whinny.
“I’m serious,” Cooper says, and Stephanie stops laughing.
“That’s cool,” Christopher says. “I hate big weddings.”
“Me too,” I say. “Aren’t they the worst? Who needs another Crock-Pot?”
“About the shooting,” Cooper says. “The man who was shot, Bear—”
Stephanie and Christopher look startled by the sudden change of subject.
“Bear? Great guy,” Christopher says. “Really, really could not feel worse about what happened to him. His nickname is so right-on. He’s a big cuddly teddy bear.”
“A big cuddly teddy bear who happens to be a bodyguard,” Cooper says.
“Well,” Christopher says, blinking. “Yeah. He’s a teddy bear unless you get too close to someone he’s protecting. Then he’ll rip your head off.”
“But that’s not what happened tonight?”
It’s interesting to watch Cooper at work. Stephanie and Christopher don’t seem to have caught on that that’s what Cooper is doing. To them, he appears to be a concerned big brother.
I, on the other hand, can tell he’s piecing together the beginning of his own private investigation into what exactly went down on Varick Street.
“Oh no,” Stephanie says, her eyes widening. In the glow from the fairy lights strung along the terrace walls, I can see that the vein in the middle of her forehead has calmed down. This is because Cooper has lulled her into thinking we’re just four friends, sitting around a patio table, talking.
This is far from the truth, however.
“The police said it was probably teenagers goofing off,” Stephanie says, “although when I was a teenager, we goofed off by throwing eggs at people’s cars, not shooting at them with guns.”
“But were the teenagers shooting at each other,” Cooper asks, “or Bear? Or my brother?”
His gaze has drifted toward Jordan, who can be seen through the French doors looking on worriedly while the EMTs take
Stephanie glances curiously at Christopher. “Christopher, what on earth is he talking about?”
“In fact,” Cooper goes on, giving my hand a comforting squeeze, “it’s lucky for you, Stephanie, that it was Heather, and not someone else, who found you up here. She’s very good in a crisis. That’s one of the many reasons I’m marrying her.”
Chapter 5
Candy Man
I like candy
I’m a candy kind of girl
If you’ve got candy
Wanna give this girl a whirl?
I like candy
I eat it all I can
If you’ve got candy
Wanna be my candy man?
“Candy Man”
Written by Weinberger/Trace
Candy Man album
Cartwright Records
Fourteen consecutive weeks
in the Top 10 Billboard Hot 100
I stare at Cooper from across the Allingtons’ table. He’s just told someone that we’re getting married. He’s never admitted this out loud before to anyone. It’s supposed to be a secret. And now he’s announced it to the producer of his brother’s reality TV show.
What is he thinking?
Christopher Allington and Stephanie Brewer look about as shocked as I am.
“Fiancée, huh?” Christopher finds his voice first. “Wow. That’s great.”
His expression indicates that what he actually means is, Your funeral, buddy.
Stephanie can barely formulate a sentence.
“I . . . I had no idea. I thought . . . I understood you were friends, but I never imagined—”
“I believe the word you’re searching for, Ms. Brewer,” Cooper says, giving my hand a final squeeze before letting it go, “is ‘congratulations.’ ”
“Oh, of course,” Stephanie says. She smiles, but the gesture is more like a snarl. “It’s so great.”
I see Stephanie’s gaze drop to the ring finger of my left hand. It’s bare, of course.
As if he’s read her mind, Cooper says, “We’re eloping, so it’s a secret. If either of you tells anyone—including my brother or Tania—I’ll have no choice but to kill you.”
More of Stephanie’s teeth are exposed. She laughs, and it sounds like a horse’s whinny.
“I’m serious,” Cooper says, and Stephanie stops laughing.
“That’s cool,” Christopher says. “I hate big weddings.”
“Me too,” I say. “Aren’t they the worst? Who needs another Crock-Pot?”
“About the shooting,” Cooper says. “The man who was shot, Bear—”
Stephanie and Christopher look startled by the sudden change of subject.
“Bear? Great guy,” Christopher says. “Really, really could not feel worse about what happened to him. His nickname is so right-on. He’s a big cuddly teddy bear.”
“A big cuddly teddy bear who happens to be a bodyguard,” Cooper says.
“Well,” Christopher says, blinking. “Yeah. He’s a teddy bear unless you get too close to someone he’s protecting. Then he’ll rip your head off.”
“But that’s not what happened tonight?”
It’s interesting to watch Cooper at work. Stephanie and Christopher don’t seem to have caught on that that’s what Cooper is doing. To them, he appears to be a concerned big brother.
I, on the other hand, can tell he’s piecing together the beginning of his own private investigation into what exactly went down on Varick Street.
“Oh no,” Stephanie says, her eyes widening. In the glow from the fairy lights strung along the terrace walls, I can see that the vein in the middle of her forehead has calmed down. This is because Cooper has lulled her into thinking we’re just four friends, sitting around a patio table, talking.
This is far from the truth, however.
“The police said it was probably teenagers goofing off,” Stephanie says, “although when I was a teenager, we goofed off by throwing eggs at people’s cars, not shooting at them with guns.”
“But were the teenagers shooting at each other,” Cooper asks, “or Bear? Or my brother?”
His gaze has drifted toward Jordan, who can be seen through the French doors looking on worriedly while the EMTs take
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