Bossy Cakes: A Yellow Rose Cozy Mystery (Yellow Rose Mystery Series Book 3) (3 page)

Betty woke early the next morning. The first seminar was hours away, but she was wide awake and ready to start the day. She tried on several different outfits and settled on calf length black pants and a breezy white top.

The seminar was being held in a conference center a few miles down the road. A bus would be coming by and would stop there; Betty had purchased a temporary pass online. It had been waiting for her at the front desk when she and Brianna had checked in. In the lobby of the hotel stood a knot of three young women, all of them wearing skirts and low cut tops. They were tanned and blonde, and Betty found herself hoping they weren’t going to the seminar. But when she overheard them speaking as she passed she knew they were.

“If Johnny Dunbar cooks half as good as he looks, we’ll definitely learn something,” one of the girls said to the others.

“Oh, you girls are cooks?” Betty asked, hoping the trio wouldn't mind the intrusion.

“The young woman who had spoken looked at Betty and laughed, shaking her head. “Not really. We just figured one of us could land ourselves a famous rich hubby, you know? Though I guess if I learn something there that'll be fine, too.”

Betty couldn’t hide the shock from her face. “You’re just here to try to date Johnny Dunbar?”

Another girl nodded. “I know, it sounds crazy, but we’ve been doing this for a few years.”

“Not the same people,” another girl said. “We take little vacations for things like this. And it totally works. Our friend hooked up with that guy who can talk to ghosts or whatever a couple years ago. They’re still dating. He’s got all that TV money.”

Betty didn’t know what to say, so she simply nodded.

“You actually cook?” one of the girls asked.

“Yes,” Betty said. “I have my own bakery.”

“That’s so cool,” a blonde girl said, and Betty smiled.

“It is pretty cool,” she admitted.

The foursome spent the ten or so minutes talking, and though Betty didn’t have much in common with the young girls, she found them to be sweet in their own way and even amusing.

They introduced themselves as Amy, Candace, and Heather, but only minutes after the introduction Betty couldn't remember which was which, so she started just thinking of the collective as ‘The Hooper triplets’ in honor of the 1970s television show Happy Days that she used to enjoy.

The bus pulled up and the brakes squealed as metal rubbed on metal.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” one of the girls said. “This looks like a murder bus.”

“What’s a murder bus?” Betty asked as they climbed in.

“A bus where they drive you out into the woods and murder you,” Amy, or was it Candace, explained. Betty laughed.

The conference center was a fifteen minute drive down the road, but it only took that long because the bus seemed to pull to a stop every hundred feet or so. Sometimes people would get on, sometimes people would get off, and sometimes there was no one at a stop at all. The old man driving stopped all the same.

Finally, it came to a halt in front of the conference center. Betty and the girls climbed off, along with dozens of others. The girls seemed to have taken a shine to Betty the same way she had to them, and they approached the building together.

It was long and lean and modern, taking up at least half of the block, with the remaining space given to a black top parking lot. Inside the front entrance was a lobby with a shiny floor and a long mahogany desk along one side. A woman with bright red hair and silver-rimmed glasses sat behind it.

“Cooks?” she asked to the group as a whole. “Attendees here for Johnny Dunbar?”

“Sure,” Amy said with a giggle.

“The Flamingo Room,” the red haired woman said, pointing down a hall. Betty led the way. Moments later she was tugging the door open and finding a wide open space with some folding chairs set up. At the back of the room was a small stage with a podium, and next to the podium a long table with various cooking supplies on it. Betty noticed a second room that was set off from the main room, and through the open door she saw cooking stations. She and the three young women she had befriended sat together in the front row.

“We have to sit here so that he’ll be able to see our legs,” Candace explained.

“I should have worn a skirt,” Betty joked. “I didn’t even think of coming to find my next husband.”

“You were married?” Heather asked.

“For over two decades, yes.”

“But you aren’t anymore?”

“Widowed,” Betty said matter-of-factly. The women broke into sad faces. Betty said that it was okay, that she'd had a wonderful marriage during her time with Julian and had no regrets.

“Well, I mean, you’re closer to Johnny’s age. Maybe he’ll go for you,” Amy said.

Betty laughed. “I don’t think he’ll even notice me sitting next to you three.”

“Aw, you’re sweet. But you’re totally amazing looking for an old chick,” Heather said. Betty knew it was a compliment, so she smiled.

“I’m just here to learn some new techniques that I can use at my shop.”

“Yeah, but Johnny is totally dreamy. Rich and good looking. That’s what’s important.”

Betty laughed. “Well, ladies, best of luck.”

“You’re going to have to help us when we actually cook something. If we break into pairs, I call you,” Amy said.

“I’ll help you all,” Betty said. “Maybe if one of you impresses Johnny with food you’ll get an extra leg up.”

“Dang, I should have called being your partner,” Candace complained, and Betty laughed.

“There’s enough of me to go around,” she said.

“Too bad there’s only one Johnny,” Amy said, and everyone giggled.

“And this one here already has a boyfriend,” Candace said, playfully pushing Amy’s arm.”

Betty quirked a brow. “And what does he think about you trying to find a rich and famous husband?”

Amy laughed. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him!” she said, and once again the girls erupted into fits of giggles.

They chatted for a few minutes, and then Betty stood up. She took a moment to stretch and look around the room. It was filling nicely. Just as in the group that got off the boss, there seemed to be five women for every man who was there.

Along the far wall were a couple of carts set up with silver carafes and milk and sugar and white Styrofoam cups. Coffee. Betty couldn’t resist. She snaked her way over to the cart and poured herself a cup.

“Excuse me,” a voice said and a hand reached past her as she was sprinkling sugar into her cup. The hand and voice belonged to a man. When she followed the arm up to the face, Betty wasn’t able to speak. Johnny Dunbar was standing beside her, pouring the milk he had just taken into a refillable black thermos, filled to the brim with coffee. “I need coffee so badly I almost pushed you over,” he joked.

“It would have been fine,” Betty said, and then she winced. She sounded like an imbecile. Maybe it would be better if she just didn’t speak at all as long as the celebrity chef was next to her.

The man grinned. Betty found herself thinking that he was even better looking in person than he was on TV. Over his shoulder Betty saw that others had noticed him, but no one seemed willing to approach him. Far away, by the stage stood the Hooper triplets watching. Amy gave her a thumbs up, and Betty smiled and looked back to Johnny.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, so he wouldn’t think she was insane, just standing there smiling.

“I haven’t even met you,” Johnny smiled, and he held out his hand. “I’m Johnny.”

“Oh, I know,” Betty said, shaking his hand. “I’m Betty.”

“You like to cook, or you like to watch television?” Johnny asked her. “Some people come because they like me on TV. They don’t realize that there’s a lot of cooking in these three days.”

“I own my own bakery,” Betty said, and Johnny smiled wide. His teeth were impossibly white and gleaming.

“Excellent,” he said. “I like real cooks.”

“I’m as real as they come,” Betty said, and once again she was sure she sounded like an idiot.

“I have to get ready, but I’m going to check in on you,” the famous man said. “Tomorrow is baking, and I’m going to want to see what you’ve got.”

Betty nodded and watch him walk toward the stage. She went back to her small group and sat down. The young girls turned to speak with her, but by then Johnny was ready to begin, and all their questions went unanswered, at least until the first break.

The day started with Johnny talking, and he was just as funny and charming as he was on his TV show. He told a funny story about being a child and trying to help his mom make Thanksgiving dinner, which ended with most of his kitchen being covered in sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce and other sticky substances hanging from the ceiling. He talked for a long while and everyone in the room was enthralled. His love of cooking was apparent.

After about an hour he was done speaking, and announced they would take a small break and then get started in the adjacent room, where he was going to show everyone one of his favorite dishes. The three younger girls all started talking at once, and Betty had to hold up her hands.

“You first,” she said, pointing to Amy.

“What did he say to you?” she practically shrieked.

“He just asked if I liked to cook,” Betty said.

“I would cook anything with him,” Amy said with a grin. And so the ten minute break went, with the girls grilling Betty about the man they all wanted to meet so badly.

The day wore on and they did a lot of cooking. After a lunch break there was a guest speaker, one Betty wanted to hear. It was Lola Sheen, a woman on the same network as Johnny who specialized in baking. After she spoke there was a demonstration on the stage. To end the first day, Johnny had set up a small panel with himself, Lila, and a man named Ted who was an executive with the Foodie channel where Johnny worked. It was a fun group, with lots of interesting stories about how TV worked. Soon, the day was over and Betty realized she was exhausted.

She rode the bus back with the Hooper triplets, but didn’t join in the conversation much. They all said goodbye in the lobby, and Betty headed for her room. The sun had just gone down, and she was surprised to see her daughter getting ready to go out.

“What are you up to?” she asked.

“Heading out in a bit,” Brianna said. “In a couple hours, actually.”

“Oh, I was hoping we could order some room service and spend some time together. I’m beat. I don’t want to go anywhere for dinner.”

“A  lot of cooking, huh?”

“Some,” Betty said. “It was a long day and plain wore me out. I guess I’ve gotten so used to my bakery days. I do the same thing over and over. It was tiring to be doing something else. I loved it though.”

“Okay, let’s order and you can tell me all about it.”

“All right,” Betty said. She sat on the edge of the bed and reached for the room service menu resting on the table between the two beds.

“Where you going tonight?” Betty asked Brianna as she came over to join her.

“A club.”

“With a guy?”

“Two guys, and one of the guy’s girlfriend.”

“So the other guy is single?”

Brianna sighed. “Are you giving me the third degree?”