Angel In Disguise

She nodded and flashed that beautiful, warm smile. Again Pete felt the zing, and again it surprised him.

Mike glanced out at the teenagers. “You didn’t happen to bring the team with you?”

“Whuh, whuh, whuh,” the group of girls chanted.

“Actually, Mike, they brought me. This was their idea. I promised to do anything they wanted if they’d win the regional championship. They won.”

“Get a nice trophy?”

“Big trophy. Huge,” she said, smiling down at the girls.

“Congratulations! I can see you’re proud of your team, and it looks as if they’re rooting for you to take home a ‘huge’ trophy from Dream Date.”

The audience laughed, especially when the firefighter flexed a bicep. The girls broke out more high fives. Pete frowned. He couldn’t see Sunny and the firefighter together, but what did he know? Or care.

“What kind of TV do you watch on a first date, Sunny?”

“Sports. Football or basketball, mostly.”

Pete’s mouth went dry. If he were honest, that’s what he’d say, too. But hey, all guys would. Well, maybe not the longhair, but he knew he could depend on the firefighter.

Kevin’s answer, MTV, and Frank’s SPORTS, came as no surprise. His own preference, again compliments of Meggy, was a revelation. He was sure he had never watched SPORT FISHING. In fact, he wouldn’t know a trout from a tuna, but he had to give Meggy credit. It put him in the clear. He smiled as the match went to Frank and Sunny.

Not only was her team ecstatic, Sunny didn’t seem to mind winning this one. If he’d cared, he might have taken the difference in her reaction personally.

In the category “Transportation on a First Date,” it was a tie. Jacy the brunette matched Kevin with FOREIGN SPORTS CAR, and for their second point, Sunny matched Pete with PICKUP TRUCK.

It was true that more women drove pickups these days, but he couldn’t imagine this redhead in her miniskirt behind the wheel of one.

“Congrats on your second point, Pete and Sunny!” The emcee beamed at them. “What do you think, Sunny? Have you got a place on your mantel for a trophy like Pete?”

Sunny forced herself to laugh along with the audience even though there was positively no place in her life for a state-of-the-art stud like Pete. He reminded her so much of Bruce, it was scary. Give her an average-looking, good-hearted guy anyday, not some blue-eyed, raven-haired hunk.

During the next break, she waved at her girls and tried to act as if she were having a good time. She loved those kids, and, more than anything, wanted them to love the Lord. Sometimes it made it hard for her to be as firm with them as she should.

For instance, she should have put her foot down when they claimed dressing her for the show was part of the deal. Tugging on this dinky strip of leather they called a skirt, trying to gain an inch of modesty, she thought of her family’s reaction. Daddy’s blood pressure would soar, and Mother would choke on her pearls.

She didn’t especially like the idea of upsetting them, but maybe they’d finally realize she wasn’t going back to Bruce, no matter how much he promised to win her. Last month he’d gone too far, showing up at her school, announcing she was his fiancée and ruining the relative anonymity she’d enjoyed this school year. Now, faculty and students alike believed Bruce’s version, and the rumor mill was killing her.

But her girls knew her and smelled a rat. If she were engaged they’d have known it. Why Bruce would pretend something that wasn’t true, they didn’t know, but they knew it wasn’t right.

Behind her back, they’d set her up for this show. Her ex couldn’t claim he was engaged to a Dream Date contestant, could he? It made sense to her. So here she was, rooting for the women beside her, counting the minutes until the show ended.

In the new round, “Outdoor Activity on a First Date,” the guy with the earring said he liked to walk along the beach, and the guy with the bull neck said he liked mountain climbing. Hopefully she wouldn’t get matched with anyone, but if she absolutely had to be matched, she prayed it would be with one of them. They didn’t intimidate her at all. Just please not the hunk. Though he did have the sweetest smile she’d ever seen, she wanted no part of him. Guys like him were so full of themselves; they did what they pleased and expected you to thank them for it. She’d already been there and done that.

He must have felt her eyes on him for he slid one of his slow, lopsided smiles her way. Warm tingles fluttered in her stomach, and she almost smiled back. Silly tingles, reacting to chemistry instead of good sense.

“Pete,” the emcee said, “tell us about being a carpenter. What kind of carpentry do you do?”

A strange look crossed Pete’s face. Then he gave Mike a phony smile. Definitely phony. She was an expert on that. It was an odd reaction to a simple question.

“Mostly residential construction,” he said.

It wasn’t exactly the truth. She was sure of it, but why lie about that?

“Your questionnaire says your choice of ‘Outdoor Activity on a First Date’ is camping and exploring the great outdoors. How long have you been into ‘exploring the great outdoors’?”

The guy glanced uneasily toward the side of the stage. It wasn’t the first time Sunny had noticed an interchange between him and a cute brunette holding a clipboard.

“Mike,” he said, clearing his throat, “I can’t remember when I first became interested in camping and…exploring, but it’s been…an indescribable part of my life.”

Even without her teaching experience, Sunny recognized hooey when she heard it. Why had he made that up?

Pete’s lack of candor apparently didn’t bother Cheryl, the first woman in the round, for she sent a seductive glance his way and said to the emcee, “Mike, I know my bio says my favorite outdoor activity is shopping, but I want to change that to camping and exploring.”

The audience laughed, but Pete looked embarrassed, which surprised her.

The host smiled regretfully. “’Fraid that’s not the way it works, Cheryl. Let’s see SHOPPING on Cheryl’s scoreboard!”

Jacy’s answer was “volleyball,” and, for once, Sunny could answer honestly. The team had allowed her the one genuine preference. As she answered, and BACKPACKING went on the board, she knew why. Backpacking had point-maker potential.

Mike instructed the audience, “Okay, ladies and gentlemen. We’re down to the wire. Kevin has matched two of the women—Cheryl and Jacy. Sunny has matched two of the guys—once with Frank and twice with Pete. That means we could have a tie between Jacy and Sunny. Cheryl, honey, it looks like you’ll have to go shopping alone, at least this time.”

“That’s okay,” she said. “I had a great time. And, Pete, I’ll give you my number. For a real date, you give me a call.”

The crowd loved it. Sunny thought they made a perfect pair.

“Okay, what’s it going to be, folks? Do you see Kevin and Jacy ‘walking on the beach’ after a hot game of ‘volleyball’?”

“Oooo,” the audience reacted. They had Sunny’s vote.

“Or do you see Sunny ‘backpacking’ as she ‘mountain climbs’ with Frank? Or Sunny ‘backpacking’ as she ‘camps and explores’ with Pete?”

Sunny cringed as she heard far more people screaming her name and Pete’s. Hot color crept up her neck. Please, God, get me out of this.

“A match for Sunny and Pete gives them a clear win. Otherwise we go into our tie-breaker. Okay, folks, time to cast your vote. Do it now.”

Sunny heard her team chanting Pete’s name and thought of the windsprints and laps those girls would get.

When the scoreboards behind her and Pete registered the win, her heart sank. She didn’t know how she was going to get out of this, but she was not going camping with a stranger.

Pete couldn’t remember ever letting his sister down, but there had to be a first for everything. He wasn’t doing the date.

“I can’t do it, Meggy,” he said, his arms folded, ready for the inevitable wheedling debate. “That wasn’t part of our deal.”

“I know. I don’t expect you to.”

That surprised him. From babyhood, she’d expected him to leap tall buildings if that was what it took to get her way.

“I’d like to help you out, but…”

“It’s okay. A promise is a promise. I said you wouldn’t have to do the date if you won, and you won’t.”

“You won’t get into trouble?”

“It doesn’t matter. I can always get another job.”

Guilt was an awful thing to swallow. This was the best job Meggy had ever had. She loved this job.

“Who would have thought we’d get a woman who wanted to cook for her dates?” she muttered. “Ridiculous!”

Well, not from a man’s point of view. That is, if he actually wanted a date.

She sighed, brave disappointment on her face. “That’s it, then.”

If he screwed this up for her, could he forgive himself? Probably not.

“I guess no job’s perfect.” She sighed again.

It was only one date. He could do it. Drawing an extra deep breath, he said, “Okay, you win, but don’t expect me to bail you out again. This is the last time, understood?”

“You’ll…do the date?” She looked stunned.

No wonder. He felt stunned. Already he could kick himself for rescuing her again. “What do I have to do?”

“I can’t believe this,” she whispered. A tear welled in her eye. “You haven’t dated since…”

“Don’t start. Just tell me what I have to do.”

“Thank you, Pete,” she said in a shaky voice as a tear dropped on her cheek.

“Darn it, Meggy, stop that.” She knew he couldn’t stand tears. He rubbed the tear away with his thumb.

She sniffed and gave him the watery smile she’d perfected as a toddler. “We’d better go meet the guy who plans the dates.”

He followed Meggy down one hallway and then another, wondering what other guy would feel sick to his stomach knowing he had a date with a gorgeous redhead. A real, honest-to-goodness date. Time alone with a woman when you weren’t sure what you were going to say or what was going to happen?

From junior high on, he’d been paired with Lisa. He’d never had to plan where they were going or what they’d do. Well, that much wouldn’t change. Dream Date would take care of the planning.

He knew they were getting close to the meeting room when the girls’ basketball team spotted him and started up that stupid “Pete, Pete, Pete” thing again. The piercing whistles came from the tallest girl. Pete had to respect the way she could whistle with her fingers in her mouth. He’d have given a baseball card to be able to do that when he’d been a kid.

In a conference room Sunny sat on a short sofa, showing more leg than she wanted if you judged by the way she shifted around, tugging at that little skirt. As far as Pete was concerned, she might as well give in gracefully. Those were truly great legs.

As he entered the room, the first thing he noticed was the change in Sunny. Her wide-eyed, admiring expression was the one he usually got from women these days. Even if it was only The Face she liked, it was better than her earlier reaction. The change seemed strange. Stranger still was the fact it mattered.

Sunny felt like an idiot, giving Pete her warmest smile, but with twenty-eight years of practice, she knew what to do when life threw her a curve. As long as she had to do a televised date with this guy, she’d make the best of it. All she had to do was act as if Pete were the answer to a single girl’s prayer. He was probably used to that role. It was only TV, and she’d played “pretend” all of her life.

As he settled into the love seat beside her, Pete’s arm touched hers lightly, briefly. Just one touch, but tingles radiated along her arm. It was all she could do to keep from rubbing the sensation away. Her heart raced, but it had to be from nerves, not awareness.

“Sunny Keegan,” she said, extending her hand.

“Pete Maguire,” he responded, taking hers. His hand was slightly callused, a working man’s hand, and his handshake was confident, firm, just right.

Sitting slightly sideways, he slid his arm along the low-backed cushion behind her. His scent was exactly the way she liked men to smell, faintly of soap and woodsy aftershave, not that he was leaning too close or coming on to her. Any man Pete’s size took a little more than his share of the room.

He seemed almost shy, but that only proved he was an even better actor than she was, for certainly he knew what those bad-boy eyes did to a woman. Who could ignore eyes like that? The way they crinkled at the corners when he smiled, they could steal her heart away and make her glad they had. Heaven help her if she let herself fall for another handsome charmer.

A bubbly, balding man introduced himself as the date coordinator. “You guys!” he exclaimed, beaming at them. “You’re something else. Looks like your date will have to be a two-parter.”

“Two-parter?” Pete echoed, sounding startled. “You mean go out twice?” Disbelief filled those blue eyes.

Sunny didn’t know what he was so upset about. A guy with Pete’s looks didn’t come on a show like Dream Date because he needed a date. He probably wanted to get noticed by someone in show business. You’d think he’d be happy with more TV exposure.

“Most of the time we send our couples to a restaurant or a resort for their dream date,” mused the coordinator, “but it will take a couple of dates to reflect your preferences. There’s the backpacking, the camping…”

“We can skip that part,” Pete muttered.

“The home cooking…”

“A restaurant’s good,” Sunny said. “In fact, I’d love a restaurant!”

“Well, yes, but we’ve got to do the home-cooking thing.”

“Not for me we don’t,” Pete said flatly. “I can have pot roast some other time.” One corner of his mouth tilted. “With Mom in her backyard.”

“Thanks, kids. Nice attitude.”

“It’s asking a lot for Sunny to cook,” Pete persisted.

She agreed. Totally.

“The problem is,” the coordinator said with professional patience, “the next time you’re on, the audience will expect your date to reflect the matches you made on this show.”

“Next time?” Pete murmured.

Sunny heard him, but the coordinator either didn’t or ignored the alarm in Pete’s voice.

“For the first part of the date, Sunny, we’ll have you cook Pete’s favorite dinner at your place.”

Sunny couldn’t hold back a tiny whimper.

“Or at Pete’s if you’d rather.”

“No!” If she had to provide a meal, she’d take the home court advantage. “My place is fine.”

“What was the menu?” the coordinator asked an assistant.

“Pot roast, mashies and corn on the cob.”

“Don’t forget the cheesecake,” Pete muttered bleakly.

“Chocolate chip,” she added, trying hard not to laugh. Talk about a stretch. No way could she manage that meal.

The coordinator checked his list. “That’s right. We can’t forget dessert! Sunny, we’ll provide groceries, flowers, candlelight, wine, the works. If you’d like, we’ll send in a cleaning team to make everything party perfect.”

She should seem appreciative, but it just wasn’t in her. They could forget the flowers and keep the cleaners. Send a chef.

Frowning slightly at his notes, the coordinator continued. “For the backpacking/camping part of your…”

A faint sound, maybe a groan, came from Pete’s direction. Again, it was so soft, Sunny thought she may have been the only one to hear it, especially when the coordinator went right on talking about Big Bear and free camping gear.

She glanced Pete’s way and saw he’d shaded his eyes with his hand. The lower half of his face looked grim. She wasn’t thrilled with the plans, either, but she had the decency to hide it.

“Any questions?” the coordinator asked. “No? Then I guess that wraps it up. Have fun, kids. You make a great-looking couple. We’ll see you here in the studio in a couple of weeks for the report-back taping. Okay?”

It wasn’t, but Sunny had the manners to fake it. Pete, on the other hand, didn’t even look up. What was his problem?

As the staff left the room, Pete stirred from his end of the couch. Leaning toward her, he touched her arm. “Are you going to be all right with this?”

Probably not, but he’d never know it. “Sure,” she answered, flashing him her biggest smile. “Just get me the recipe for your mom’s cheesecake.”

Chapter Two

Sunny lay on her cream leather sofa, uncomfortable in a pair of too-tight jeans and a skimpy sweater, while the team finished her “home-cooked” meal. One of the mothers had made Pete’s cheesecake, and another had taken care of the rest. The girls had arranged everything, right down to setting the table with her grandmother’s china. They were such good kids. Working with them this past year had been the happiest time of her life.

Mouse, the team’s point guard, bent over her and used a pick to lift sections of Sunny’s hair, squirting spray as she went.

“Mouse, don’t you think that’s enough?” Sunny didn’t want to hurt the girl’s feelings, but already her hair was a wild, sexy mane with a life of its own.

“It’s gotta be perfect, Coach. Once everybody sees this on TV, your ex won’t bother you anymore and the talk ’round school will shut down. Everybody’s gonna know he’s a liar.”

That was youth speaking. Sunny knew people could say and print almost anything, and others would believe it. Her skin was thick, but the girls were still idealistic enough to expect fairness. It bothered them that people believed Bruce and were describing her as coldhearted, self-centered and worse.

She didn’t like the idea of the kids being involved with her problems, but getting them to leave her alone was like getting a fast-breaking team to stall.

Leteisha, the team’s six-foot center, hovered above her. “Coach, are you concentrating on your date?”

“Not really,” she answered honestly.

“There’s nothing more important than your date, Coach. You gotta focus.”

Words from her own mouth.

“That’s right,” Mouse said, her dark eyes shining. “You are supposed to think about this hot guy. He is, like, very sexy, and you want him madly.”

“Easy, Mouse,” Leteisha warned.

“But I think Coach ought to…”

“Not now, girl!”

Sunny hid a smile. Leteisha ran the team with a firm hand.

“Okay, Coach,” Leteisha said, her dark eyes sincerely determined. “Let’s go over what you’re supposed to do. Have you got your plays straight?”

Obediently Sunny recited, “Take the pot roast and mashed-potato casserole out of the oven. Nuke the corn. The gravy’s on the range. Salad and cheesecake in the refrigerator. Okay?”

“You forgot the apron.”

She wished they had.

“You need it, Coach, for realism.”

“And to protect your outfit,” added Mouse, who’d chosen the miniskirt for the TV show and the tight jeans and sweater tonight.

Sunny disliked the sweater as much as she had the miniskirt. The sweater was white—never her color, though with the amount of makeup they had on her, it probably wouldn’t matter—and it clung like a second skin. Surely Mouse would take pity on her if she complained once more.

“This sweater is so tight, I can’t breathe. Please, Mouse, choose something else.”

“No, no! You must wear it! My brother says a man cannot resist a woman in a tight, white top.”

“Ooooo,” the girls crooned.

Sunny lifted a brow at them, but it didn’t have its usual sobering effect. In fact, one of them, probably Heather, couldn’t suppress a giggle.

Circling Sunny as an artist would study her masterpiece, Mouse said, “Coach, you’ve got to help that sweater. Use better posture. Throw your shoulders back, and…”

“I’ve got the idea, Mouse.”

So did the team. They hooted, loving every moment despite her embarrassment.

“All right, you guys,” Leteisha ordered, pulling Sunny to her feet. “Huddle up.”

The girls swarmed Sunny as they did during a time-out. Leteisha held up her hand, and a hush fell.

“Okay, Coach, after this date Mr. Big Deal Bruce Daniels is going to know for sure he’s been ‘exed.”’

“He’s history,” somebody said.

“For-got-ten!” said another.

“That’s right,” Leteisha confirmed, shushing further comments with a look. “Now, we’ve got you this far, but, Coach, you’ve got to do your part.”

“We’re counting on you, Coach,” Mouse said. “When the TV camera’s on you, you gotta make the date look real good.”

“’Real good?”’ she repeated, not at all sure she’d want to comply with their standards.

“Just be all over the guy, Coach.”

“Yeah, make him sweat.”

“Put a liplock on him.”

“Practice safe—”

“Enough!” Sunny shouted. She loved these kids, but they got out of hand so quickly.

“Settle down,” Leteisha bellowed. “You know how Coach feels about that kind of talk. How’s she gonna go on national TV with all this hassle? We’re here to give her our support.”

The girls quieted down but grinned, unrepentant.

Mouse waved an emerald-green chef’s apron and sung out, “Coach needs to put this on.”

“Thanks, Mouse. Let’s get that apron on you, Coach.”

Sunny groaned.

“See how nice it goes with your hair?” Mouse coaxed, slipping the apron over Sunny’s hair.

At least it would cover the tight, white sweater.

“Go over the game plan, Mouse,” Leteisha ordered.

“Okay. Coach, after you answer the door, pretend you forgot to take the apron off and act real embarrassed.”

She probably would be.

“Then take your time untying the strings.”

“Take a lot of time,” Leteisha added with a wicked smile.

“Slip the apron off slow,” Mouse coached.

“Yeah, reeeeeeal slow.”

“Yeah, like you’re doin’ a striptease.”

“Then the guy sees you in that tight, white top and…”

“It blows his mind!”

The girls high-fived and yelled like they’d just scored the winning basket on a shot from midcourt.

“That does it!” Sunny ordered. “You’re out of here!”

Proud of themselves, the team called out outrageous advice all the way to their cars.

Girls! You took two steps forward with them and one step back. She’d never been as bold, but then Eleanor Keegan’s daughter had known her manners before she’d known her ABC’s.

They were good kids, and they’d worked hard all season, playing with more heart than ability. She’d felt safe promising them anything if they’d win the championship. Of course, now that she knew kids could play over their heads, she’d be careful giving out blank checks.

Winning a championship had been an unexpected thrill and confirmation she was making her life count. Things would be great once she convinced her family to leave her alone. For the girls and herself, she would get through this evening and do her best to dazzle Pete Maguire…if she didn’t break out in hives.

Her burst of confidence lasted until the doorbell rang. “Take deep breaths,” she told herself. “Lots of deep breaths. Focus. Be convincing. Pretend you’re happy to see this guy.”

Donning a welcoming smile, she opened the door in a swoop and struck a pose.

But Meggy, the woman from Dream Date, stood there.

So much for dazzling.

“Hi, Sunny,” the woman said brightly. “We’re set up and ready for Pete to arrive. Everything okay here?”

She nodded, forcing her plastic public smile.

“Good. Like we said on the phone, try to ignore the cameras. We’ll shoot some stuff to establish Part One of your date and be gone before you know it.”

“Great. That’s just great. Really great.”

Pull yourself together, Sunny. Use that college education. Speak in multisyllables. “Are we on schedule?”

“Yes, we are. In fact, Pete ought to arrive in just a few minutes. Have fun.”

“Thanks.” Sunny closed the door and worked on the breathing exercises she’d taught the girls for pre-game jitters. From now on, she’d have a new respect for people who went before the cameras for a living.