Sweetheart Deal by Linda Joffe Hull Page B

“He’s right that viewers will want to see us do something about Alejandro’s death.”
    â€œLike ask a few cursory questions while we sign timeshare paperwork?” I said doubtfully.
    â€œAs long as we have to fulfill our obligation to the resort to promote their properties, we might as well.”
    â€œWhich I assume was pre-negotiated into whatever deal Anastasia cooked up?”
    â€œThere’s always a trade-off .”
    â€œAlejandro certainly paid quite a price.” Any hopes I’d had, however wishful, that Alejandro really had gotten plastered and innocently drowned in the pool were suddenly circling the drain.
    â€œIf only I’d signed when I was supposed to. He’d probably still be—”
    â€œMaddie, the timing of the signing didn’t have anything to do with Alejandro’s death.”
    â€œHow could it not?”
    â€œI’m one of the creators of the show. I honestly don’t believe anyone associated with The Family Frugalicious would go so far as to—”
    â€œCreate a plot angle that had me falling for a tall, dark, and handsome timeshare salesman?”
    â€œSo you did find him handsome!”
    â€œFrank.” I resisted a sigh. “The point is, I refuse to sign the contract, and the next thing I know, I’m getting secret notes from a man who ends up dead at exactly the time he proposed we meet. A man whose death we are now investigating.”
    â€œThis whole sign-and -snoop scenario is—”
    â€œA setup?”
    â€œExactly,” Frank said. “Why on earth would anyone from the show have us look into things if they were somehow involved?”
    â€œThis is going to be great!” Geo said, popping his head through the door. “We’ve got cue cards, but we’re going for authentic here, especially where the sympathy is concerned.”
    â€œRatings maybe?” I whispered in answer to Frank’s question.
    â€œThe ratings are going to be thru the roof for this episode,” Geo said, confirming my worst suspicions.

    â€œMay I help you?” asked the receptionist. She had the wooden tone of an on-camera first-timer, but the fake eyelashes, glossy lipstick, and heavy-handed eye shadow job of a true professional like Esmeralda, the Hacienda de la Fortuna makeup artist.
    â€œWe’re here to finalize our resort ownership paperwork,” Frank said.
    â€œAnd your name is?” the receptionist asked.
    â€œMaddie,” I said. “Maddie Michaels.”
    â€œAs in Mrs. Frugalicious?” she read with enthusiasm, but straight off the cue card.
    â€œAnd her husband, Mr. Frugalicious,” Frank added.
    â€œI’m Beti,” she said, and picked up the phone to let someone in the back know we were there. “Welcome to the vacation sales office.”
    â€œWe’re so sorry for your loss, Beti,” Frank said the moment she’d hung up from announcing our arrival.
    â€œThank you,” she said and reached for a tissue.
    In the awkward silence that followed, I looked around the sales office. Unlike the upbeat enthusiasm of a few days earlier, a stifling pall permeated the place. Behind the glass walls of the nearby children’s lounge, however, a bumper crop of kids seemed to be gorging on treats, toys, and video games.
    â€œYou’re busy today,” I said, ad libbing as instructed.
    Beti nodded.
    â€œI’m surprised you’re even open.”
    â€œSaturdays and Sundays are always our busiest days of the week,” she said. “And we were closed this morning for the funeral, so everything got pushed back to this afternoon.”
    Geo cued the cameraman, who turned the camera toward the door to the sales floor just in time to capture the Alejandro lookalike assistant manager emerge with a solemn smile.
    â€œThe show must go on,” Beti whispered. “Or so our new manager says.”
    â€œIs he Alejandro’s