Diva 02 _ Diva Takes the Cake, The Read Online Free PDF

don’t say a word. Not one word.”

    Daisy and I hurried through the service alley and burst through the gate, alarming a cluster of cops who were encouraging gawkers to move on. Yellow police tape already circled Natasha’s property, and Nina waited for me on the other side.

    “Hannah won’t come.”

    “Don’t worry, she’s a sharp cookie.”

    “Not when it comes to love.” Hannah had already married two losers, and, in my opinion, Craig would be number three.

    A woman in the crowd tangled with a policeman, arguing incoherently, her arms waving as she tried to pass him. Salt-and-pepper hair escaped an untidy ponytail and gray wisps frizzled around her face. Her multiple bracelets jangled, adding to the confusion, and her low-slung jeans would have been better suited to a teenager and needed to be two sizes larger.

    But something about the blue eye shadow and neon orange lipstick struck a chord with me.

FIVE

    From “THE GOOD LIFE”:

    Dear Sophie,

    My Nana makes the most delicious cake in the world and has offered to bake my wedding cake as a gift. I don’t want to sound like a spoiled child, but while her cakes taste wonderful, they don’t look as professional as I’d like. Okay, they’re downright homely. Finances are tight for her, so she thinks a cake will be less expensive but much appreciated as a gift. I don’t want to hurt Nana’s feelings. Any suggestions?

    —Wedding Cake Blues in Bloxom

    Dear Wedding Cake,

    Tell Nana you’d rather have her attend as an honored guest. Look for a bakery willing to make custom cakes based on family recipes, and ask Nana to compile her favorite recipes as a gift so you can carry on cherished family traditions. In fifteen years, when you prepare a holiday meal, you won’t remember who gave you place settings of silver or china, but you’ll always think of Nana when you reach for her recipes.

    —Sophie
    “Mrs. Smith?” I said.

    “Sophie,” she begged, “tell them who I am.”

    Nina and I made our way to her. I grasped Wanda Smith’s hand gently. “Natasha is fine. Relax, she’s okay.”

    Nina turned to me, her face incredulous.

    I couldn’t help grinning. Few mothers and daughters differed as much as Wanda Smith and Natasha. Wanda had scrabbled to provide for her daughter after Natasha’s father walked out on them. She’d waitressed at The Dixie Diner, the local watering hole in our hometown, for as long as I could remember. I gave Wanda a lot of credit for managing on her own. Natasha’s participation in beauty pageants must have cost a small fortune.

    Nina held out her hand. “Mrs. Smith, I’m Nina Reid Norwood, your daughter’s neighbor a few houses down.”

    Although she appeared distracted and bewildered, Wanda shook Nina’s hand.

    “Come with us. Everything will be all right,” I assured her. “You can call Natasha from my house.”

    Wanda followed us across the street, where my parents and niece were stepping out of a Buick.

    Frowning, Dad demanded, “What’s going on?”

    My ten-year-old niece, Jen, launched herself at me for a hug. “Can I pleeeese stay with you after the wedding?” She looked up at me with innocent blue eyes, her silky auburn hair gleaming as only a child’s can. Whispering, she pleaded, “They’re driving me nuts!”

    My brother and his wife had left the week before on a sabbatical in the Sahara. Hannah had made a fuss about them missing the wedding, but our brother pointed out that he’d done the wedding thing for her twice already and neither of those marriages took.

    Jen, an only child whose parents were certain they couldn’t have produced anything but gifted offspring, would be spending the summer in the country with my parents.

    “We’ll try,” I whispered back.

    Wanda threw herself at my father and leaned her head against his chest. “Paul, thank goodness you’re here.” Dad stiffened as though a snake had crawled up his leg. Mom rushed to his aid and delicately pried Wanda