“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