Plain Vanilla Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 12 (Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries) by Carol Durand, Summer Prescott Page B
Authors: Carol Durand, Summer Prescott
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not,
you’re awfully concerned about first impressions,” her friend remarked,
reaching down to stroke Toffee’s silky golden ears, while Bitsy snoozed
peacefully in her lap.
“This
whole thing is crazy,” Missy folded her arms and shook her head, surveying the
tornadic mess on the bed. “Who am I to even think about having my own TV show?
I’m not qualified for this. What if I make a fool of myself?” she worried,
going to the closet to rifle through the remaining items.
“Seems
to me that quite a few people on TV make a very good living by being unafraid
to make a fool of themselves,” Echo observed dryly.
“Yes,
but I certainly don’t want to fall into that category,” Missy shot back,
flinging hangers aside one by one. “I know nothing about any of that Hollywood
stuff. I’m an ordinary cupcake artist from Louisiana.”
“Which
is apparently exactly what they’re looking for,” her friend reminded her
gently. “Just go out there and have a good time. Enjoy the first class plane ticket
and luxury hotel, and if they don’t choose you, just be glad that you had a
free mini-vacation,” she advised, taking another sip of wine.
Missy
stopped her frantic search for the perfect outfit and turned to face her
laid-back friend. “You know what? You’re right! Why should I be so worried
about what they think when I already have everything I’ve ever wanted. If they
don’t choose me, I’ll just come back here with a fun story to tell, and be able
to fall right back into my wonderfully ordinary life,” she nodded, smiling for
the first time since she spoke with Francesca Childs.
“Exactly!”
Echo exclaimed, raising her glass. “Now choose a few outfits and throw them in
the suitcase so that we can go order pizza and watch our movie,” she directed,
eager for girl’s night to begin.
**
“So,
how are you feeling about the prospect of becoming a TV star?” the
tall-dark-and-handsome Detective Chas Beckett teased, as he drove Missy to the
airport.
“I
don’t think there’s much chance of that,” she replied with a grin. “But, if it
happens, I’ll have you to keep me humble.”
“It’s
a dirty job, but somebody’s gotta do it,” he winked and squeezed her knee
affectionately. “Are you nervous?”
“Terrified,”
Missy confessed. “It’s not that there’s a lot at stake – I’ll be perfectly fine
if they choose someone else, but the thought of getting in front of a TV
camera, with everyone focused on me, gives me the heebie-jeebies.”
“I
can see how that might be intimidating,” Chas nodded. “Just try to forget about
the camera. When they ask you to say something, just pretend you’re talking to
me and that I’m right behind the lens. I’ve handled press conferences that way
for years,” he admitted, shrugging.
“Good
idea,” she agreed, feeling butterflies fluttering in her stomach as they pulled
up in front of the terminal. Kissing Chas goodbye, she headed for the ticket
counter.
Chapter
3
Missy
felt almost guilty about the treatment that she received in First Class. She
had taken her shoes off and was reclined in a massive leather chair, cocktail
in hand, before the coach passengers had even begun their boarding process.
Flight attendants came by to check on her regularly, making sure that her every
need was met, and she realized how easy it would be to become accustomed to
this style of travel. The flight to Los Angeles was long, but watching movies,
enjoying a five-star meal and napping on a feather pillow under a silky blanket
helped to pass the time. Missy was delighted when the attendant presented her
with a warm, lemon-scented cloth so that she could freshen up, just before they
landed. The butterflies that had fluttered lightly when she was bathed in
Chas’s comforting presence, now swan-dived to her toes as she looked out the
window at the palm trees and sunny California skies.
There
was a uniformed driver holding a placard with Missy’s name on
you’re awfully concerned about first impressions,” her friend remarked,
reaching down to stroke Toffee’s silky golden ears, while Bitsy snoozed
peacefully in her lap.
“This
whole thing is crazy,” Missy folded her arms and shook her head, surveying the
tornadic mess on the bed. “Who am I to even think about having my own TV show?
I’m not qualified for this. What if I make a fool of myself?” she worried,
going to the closet to rifle through the remaining items.
“Seems
to me that quite a few people on TV make a very good living by being unafraid
to make a fool of themselves,” Echo observed dryly.
“Yes,
but I certainly don’t want to fall into that category,” Missy shot back,
flinging hangers aside one by one. “I know nothing about any of that Hollywood
stuff. I’m an ordinary cupcake artist from Louisiana.”
“Which
is apparently exactly what they’re looking for,” her friend reminded her
gently. “Just go out there and have a good time. Enjoy the first class plane ticket
and luxury hotel, and if they don’t choose you, just be glad that you had a
free mini-vacation,” she advised, taking another sip of wine.
Missy
stopped her frantic search for the perfect outfit and turned to face her
laid-back friend. “You know what? You’re right! Why should I be so worried
about what they think when I already have everything I’ve ever wanted. If they
don’t choose me, I’ll just come back here with a fun story to tell, and be able
to fall right back into my wonderfully ordinary life,” she nodded, smiling for
the first time since she spoke with Francesca Childs.
“Exactly!”
Echo exclaimed, raising her glass. “Now choose a few outfits and throw them in
the suitcase so that we can go order pizza and watch our movie,” she directed,
eager for girl’s night to begin.
**
“So,
how are you feeling about the prospect of becoming a TV star?” the
tall-dark-and-handsome Detective Chas Beckett teased, as he drove Missy to the
airport.
“I
don’t think there’s much chance of that,” she replied with a grin. “But, if it
happens, I’ll have you to keep me humble.”
“It’s
a dirty job, but somebody’s gotta do it,” he winked and squeezed her knee
affectionately. “Are you nervous?”
“Terrified,”
Missy confessed. “It’s not that there’s a lot at stake – I’ll be perfectly fine
if they choose someone else, but the thought of getting in front of a TV
camera, with everyone focused on me, gives me the heebie-jeebies.”
“I
can see how that might be intimidating,” Chas nodded. “Just try to forget about
the camera. When they ask you to say something, just pretend you’re talking to
me and that I’m right behind the lens. I’ve handled press conferences that way
for years,” he admitted, shrugging.
“Good
idea,” she agreed, feeling butterflies fluttering in her stomach as they pulled
up in front of the terminal. Kissing Chas goodbye, she headed for the ticket
counter.
Chapter
3
Missy
felt almost guilty about the treatment that she received in First Class. She
had taken her shoes off and was reclined in a massive leather chair, cocktail
in hand, before the coach passengers had even begun their boarding process.
Flight attendants came by to check on her regularly, making sure that her every
need was met, and she realized how easy it would be to become accustomed to
this style of travel. The flight to Los Angeles was long, but watching movies,
enjoying a five-star meal and napping on a feather pillow under a silky blanket
helped to pass the time. Missy was delighted when the attendant presented her
with a warm, lemon-scented cloth so that she could freshen up, just before they
landed. The butterflies that had fluttered lightly when she was bathed in
Chas’s comforting presence, now swan-dived to her toes as she looked out the
window at the palm trees and sunny California skies.
There
was a uniformed driver holding a placard with Missy’s name on
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