Shades of Sunshine

  Special Thanks:

  To Alex—Cheers to 2019 and many, many more adventures together! (And to not almost burning our deck down trying to make popcorn again.) я тебя люблю!

  To Stacia—Cheers to another year together, my fabulous half brain! You’re stuck with me!

  To my family, friends, and LaManna’s Ladies, thank you for a wonderful 2018!

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  SHADES OF SUNSHINE

  First edition. December 29, 2018.

  Copyright © 2018 Gina LaManna.

  Written by Gina LaManna.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Synopsis

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  To my husband!!

  Synopsis

  Lola Pink is all shades of concerned about the state of her wedding plans when her world is shaken as someone close to Dane Clark—her billionaire fiancé—goes missing. When the news of a kidnapping rocks the Clark Castle, Lola finds herself entwined in a mystery that could require a trip down memory lane.

  However, a missing persons report is not the only thing on Lola’s plate. There’s a brownie rivalry between two of the town’s oldest residents, a wedding cake that won’t order itself, and a mother-in-law determined to ruin Lola’s special day. But when the kidnapper’s threats take a turn for the worse, suddenly, all bets are off. If Lola can’t find a way to unveil the kidnapper’s true identity, there won’t be a wedding to ruin...

  Chapter 1

  “Annalise, don’t cry again, please,” I said. “I’m trying to kick off this emergency meeting, and I just can’t do it with you sobbing.”

  “What does it matter?!” she wailed. “It’s all my fault.”

  Babs shrugged and shot me an accusatory glance. “If you didn’t say his name on the way up here, Annalise would never have started crying.”

  “She would have, too!” I argued. “The poor thing has a broken heart. She’s been crying for a month. Annalise—” I beckoned her over—“come here, it’s going to be okay.”

  Annalise plunked her head against my shoulder. I would’ve never expected that a body as small as hers with a tiny head to match could feel so heavy. I shifted into a more comfortable position as she laid her full weight on me and felt myself tipping dangerously close to the ledge. The three of us—the Sunshine Sisters—were sitting high above town on the water tower, our normal perch for meetings of the important variety, and it wasn’t on my agenda to fall off this morning.

  “Girls!” Mrs. Fredericks yelled from down below. “How much longer are you going to be? I have to run to the store for more ice cream to go with the special brownies. It’ll only be a second. You’ve eaten clean through the gallon I had.”

  “We’ll be a while, Mrs. Fredericks,” Babs said, “but don’t worry about the ice cream. I should lay off.”

  “You trying to get skinny for Lo’s wedding?” Mrs. Fredericks hollered back. “What sort of diet are you on? I’ve been wanting to lose some weight too, now that they’ve set a date.”

  “But your legs look great,” Babs said. “Look at those sunflowers all over your thighs.”

  Mrs. Fredericks was the sweet old lady who liked to think of herself as an honorary Sunshine Sister. Whenever she saw three sets of legs dangling from the water tower, she’d pop right over to her oven and throw in some cookies or other very appealing dessert that she’d use to eventually lure us back to the ground.

  “Well, I need a walk anyway,” Mrs. Fredericks said. “I’ll get the ice cream, but don’t y’all move before I get back. I can’t finish off the brownies myself. By the way, Lola, when should I expect a wedding invitation? I have to know when to have my bikini body ready.”

  “Yeah, when should we expect invitations?” Babs turned her attention on me. “You’ve been engaged for almost two months. Get a move on, girlfriend.”

  “You just worry about that ice cream,” I called to Mrs. Fredericks. “I’ll drop one off soon.”

  “Nah, I want you to mail it,” she yelled back with a half-hearted wave. “It’ll make things exciting. All I get are bills.”

  “I walk past her house every day, and she wants me to mail it.” I shook my head, turning to face Babs. However, I found no sympathy there, only demand. “Fine! I’ll mail yours too. Sheesh! That’s a dollar I’m out in unnecessary postage.”

  “You know that’s not what I meant,” Babs clarified. “Mrs. Dulcet called me the other day, and—”

  “Why are you talking to Mrs. Dulcet so much?” I asked. “She’s my fiancé’s butler.”

  “Yes, but I’m one of your possible maids-of-honor, so I have a lot invested in this wedding. I mean, since Johnny and me sort of fizzled, I’m on the prowl.” Babs shrugged. “What better place to look for a man than at my best friend’s wedding to a billionaire? Maybe Dane has some available, hot friends.”

  “Dane?” I asked. “I love the man, but I don’t think his friend list is as long as you think.”

  “You’re right. He doesn’t really have many friends, does he,” Babs mused with a pout. “Do you think he’d ask Gerard to be in the wedding party? He’s my Australian George Clooney, and I’m considering being interested. The age gap really doesn’t bother me.”

  Babs—all blond hair, curves, and red lipstick with acerbic wit—could have just about any man she wanted. She was gorgeous and super smart, and she had a successful career as a lawyer to boot. Which didn’t stop her from fantasizing about marrying a billionaire. The girl had a jeans collection to maintain, after all.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I haven’t been all that involved in the wedding planning so far.”

  “What are you talking about? It’s your wedding. Plus, it’s going to be like—the biggest wedding Sunshine Shore has ever seen,” Babs pointed out. “I’m expecting arches of flowers and a cake that I can bathe in. Do you know how big of a cake that is, Lola? I’m a generous-sized woman, and I want to be able to sit inside of your cake. You’d better get to planning.”

  “I’m trying to,” I said. “But it’s not as if I’ve been given much of an option.”

  “I’m still confused,” Babs said. “Isn’t it your day? Who else would plan it? Have you hired someone?”

  “No, but Dane’s mother seems to have hired herself.”

  Babs squinted at me. “Oh?”

  “Apparently she’s already ordered the invitations,” I said. “I only heard that through Mrs. Dulcet. If it weren’t for her, I’d have no clue. They should be in this week.”

  Babs frowned. “Okay, well, that sounds a bit rude. Maybe she’s just trying to help?”

  “She’s vetoed most of the rest of my ideas.” I shrugged listlessly. “I’m beginning to think it might be easier if I just forfeit all my planning duties to her.”

  Babs’s nose wrinkled in concern. “Do you really want a wedding planned by Dane’s mother? She’s got... um, shall we say, a different style than you.”

  “It doesn’t feel as if I have much of a choice at this point.”

  “Have you talked to Dane about it?”

  “I don’t want to bother
him with little details. I know he doesn’t really care, so long as I’m happy.”

  “Right.” Babs stared at me. “And you’re clearly not happy at your wedding planning being hijacked, so talk to him.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m overreacting. All that really matters is the fact that Dane and I get married, right?”

  A small cry came from the petite figure next to me, interrupting my train of thought. Or rather, a pained sort of howl that sounded a bit like a tortured cat. “Annalise, what’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong?!” Her mascara was a mess. Her thin, limber gymnasts’ body was contorted into some sort of pretzel that boggled the mind. Huge crocodile tears fell from her eyes. “Have you not been listening to me at all?”

  I threw my arm around her shoulder. The circus performer was probably the naivest—and the strictest—of us all, and she’d just gone through her first heartbreak. Though Babs and I had been super sympathetic for the first two weeks, and then the third, and into the fourth, it was getting difficult to find new advice for Annalise. We’d covered a lot in the first forty-five emergency Sunshine Sisters meetings Annalise had called post breakup.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I said soothingly. “Remember what we told you. If everything is not okay, it’s not the end—er...”

  “Everything will be right in the end,” Babs corrected, and then translated. “If it’s not right, it’s not the end. Annalise, if you and Semi are meant to be together, then it’ll happen. Maybe this is just a little bump in the road.”

  “But what if we’re not meant for each other?” she said. “What then? How will I live?”

  “I know it hurts,” I said, rubbing her shoulder as my shirt slowly entered into wet T-shirt contest territory from her tears. “But you’ll get through this. You’re strong. After all, the breakup was mutual, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, but not because I didn’t love him,” she corrected. “It was just too hard. We’re both so busy, and our schedules were having a hard time matching up. We hadn’t really seen each other for a month and a half! What sort of relationship is that?”

  “I hate to sound crass, but the two of you didn’t even date for six months,” Babs said. “Don’t you think it’s a little premature to be mourning the guy for over a month? I mean, it’s not like he physically went anywhere. If you miss him that bad, all it’d take is a quick trip to Clark Castle. I’m sure Semi still cares for you, too.”

  “But he hasn’t called,” Annalise said with a sniff. “Not once.”

  “Because you told him you needed space,” I said. “He’s being respectful.”

  “I don’t want him to be respectful,” she snarled. “I mean, I do, but I want him to respectfully chase after me.”

  “Oh, Annalise,” Babs said, shifting her weight to rest her head in Annalise’s lap. She bent her knees so she was laying and looking up at the sky. “I don’t know what to tell you, honey. It’ll get better. Time heals all.”

  I recognized Babs’s movement for what it really was—a perfect sunbathing technique. I narrowed my eyes at her, but she couldn’t see the dagger-glares headed her way because I had on these gorgeous yellow sunglasses I’d found at the thrift shop a week before.

  They matched my yellow sundress, which was usually a great thing, except for the whole emergency meeting on top of the water tower—which required expert and Annalise-like movements to keep the fabric tucked under my legs. That was one show the Sunshine Shore did not need to see, even though my undies also had cute little sunflowers on them—also a sale item from the weekend’s shopping trip. But more of a private little fact, and not something I wanted Mrs. Fredericks to know.

  I felt myself blush as I remembered the look on Dane’s face as I’d dressed this morning, his keen gaze taking in my cute little sunflower undies while he’d perused the newspapers in bed. He’d had a meeting to get to, which unfortunately had stunted our time together, but he’d given a whisper about finding some time to spend alone together in his afternoon schedule.

  The thought made me jumpy to get back to the castle. I had work to do, and I missed Dane already. It was pathetic maybe, but I supposed that was the beauty of pure, sappy, unconditional love. I couldn’t seem to be without him for very long at all.

  “Annalise, I’m not sure what you want us to say,” I said, running my hands through her hair. “Do you want me to talk to Semi for you? He’s been a giant mope these last few weeks. Even Dane noticed, and he wouldn’t notice an emotion if it slapped him in the face.”

  “Really?” She perked up, and the tears stopped at once. “You think he might miss me?”

  “I know he misses you. You’re both just too stubborn to make the first move,” I said. “I hate seeing you this upset.”

  “Maybe you could just sort of poke around,” Babs suggested. “Don’t do all the work for Annalise, but just see if you can get a read on Semi’s feelings.”

  “Yes,” Annalise said quickly. “Do that.”

  “I don’t like meddling in love lives,” I said with a frown. “If I find out Semi’s interested, I’ll leave the rest to you.”

  “Or me,” Babs said. “I love to meddle. I’m great at meddling.”

  “I’ll handle it,” Annalise said with a firm nod, a bit of light popping back into her eyes. “Oh, thank you, Lola. Will you call an emergency meeting as soon as you hear something?”

  I raised two fingers. “I swear on it. Perfect timing because I have to get back to the castle, and anyway, here’s Mrs. Fredericks coming back with the ice cream. Do you think she’ll be offended if I ask her for a Tupperware to go? I really do have to meet Dane, but I’d hate to miss out on her brownies.”

  AS IT TURNED OUT, MRS. Fredericks was more than happy to put brownies and ice cream in a to-go container, which was only mildly problematic thanks to the heat. I hopped on my bike and headed for home. The Sunshine Shore burned bright with afternoon sun as I pedaled my legs just as fast as I could, trying to beat the melt.

  Dane had continually promised he would outfit me with a car, but I kept refusing. I’d gotten along on my bike just fine for the last quarter century and more. Plus, he had enough motorized vehicles already. I could always bug Gerard, his garage manager, to use one in a pinch. Dane had made a point to insist that everything from here on out would be ours—his cars, his company, his house. I had my bike and a cool collection of sunglasses to contribute, which definitely made this marriage a fair trade.

  I threw my newly refurbished bicycle into the handy dandy parking spot that Dane had asked Gerard to make for me outside the front door. I still wasn’t certain if it was because having a bike in Castlewood’s front lawn was an eyesore, or if he really wanted me to have a place for my things.

  Either way, I wasn’t complaining. Dane had made every effort to make the castle feel like mine since we’d gotten engaged. I’d sort of begun sleeping in his bed that very night and just never left. I supposed that meant I was officially all moved in.

  “Hi, Mrs. Dulcet,” I called as I burst through the front doors. “Melty ice cream emergency.”

  In a flurry of movement, I kicked off my shoes and jogged down the hall and into the kitchen. A few of the staff members were already there preparing afternoon tea, appetizers, and the start of dinner. I grinned to them as I threw Mrs. Fredericks’s brownies into the freezer to harden up from the soupy mess they’d become.

  Mrs. Dulcet somehow materialized while I’d stuck my head into the freezer to cool down, startling me as I shut the door and sending me lurching back in surprise.

  “You scared me!” I pressed a hand over my heart. “I didn’t think you’d heard me come in.”

  “The entire house heard you come in,” Mrs. Dulcet said crisply. “It was like a herd of elephants arrived starved for dinner. That wouldn’t be a container of Mrs. Fredericks’s brownies in there, would it?”

  “Um—” I hesitated, not sure if I should address the elephant bit or the brownie bit first. “Sorry if
I was too loud, I’ll—ah—not run in the castle.”

  “We love having you running around the castle,” she said, confusing me with a frown despite her pleasant terms. “It’s been too long since the castle has seen exuberant life.”

  “Okay?”

  “It’s the brownies that make me concerned.”

  I patted a hand against my stomach. “If you’re worried my wedding dress won’t fit—don’t worry. I am considering ordering it a size larger just in case. You know, to make room for lots of stress eating.”

  “That’s not my concern,” Mrs. Dulcet said through gritted teeth. “Mrs. Fredericks and I have a history. We go way back.”

  “Way back to...” I shrugged. “Before her LuLaRoe leggings? I’m sorry, I’m not understanding the issue. She baked some brownies and sent them home with me. Usually I have time to stay and eat them, but—”

  “Usually?!” Mrs. Dulcet sounded shrill. “She feeds you often?”

  “Mrs. Dulcet.” I put a hand on my hip. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

  “Run away,” one of the kitchen staff muttered as she walked past. “Rivalry.”

  I narrowed my eyes at the butler. “What rivalry? Between you and Mrs. Fredericks?”

  “It’s not a rivalry if my brownies blow hers out of the water,” Mrs. Dulcet said with a superior huff. “It’s just that the judge was compromised in the contest of ‘74.”

  “I don’t understand. What contest?”

  The woman who’d warned me to walk away came back, apparently too intrigued to leave the conversation alone. I’d heard her called Dahlia before. She was a friendly face in the kitchen who didn’t mind all that much when I snuck pre-meal snacks from the cutting board.

  “There was a brownie baking contest in 1974—I was just eight years old,” Dahlia said with a smile. “Which dates me, but there you have it. I remember it vividly because everyone in town got to try a sample. Like a blind taste test. There were ten bakers who entered, but only two who had any real chance of winning.”