“Talk about pressure,” Neda said.

“It got my heart racing.”

Neda took several more pictures, asked a couple more questions, then announced that the interview was finished.

“I’m so impressed,” the reporter said. “I love your work and I’m going to say that in my article.” Neda loaded up her bag. “I’m engaged. We’re thinking of a Christmas wedding. Do you still have room in your schedule for my cake?”

Gracie smiled. “Absolutely. Let me give you a card. You can call me in the next month or so and we can talk about what you’d like. Holiday wedding cakes can be so beautiful. All those jewel tones.”

“Good. Thanks. You’ve been terrific.”

“My pleasure.”

Gracie led her to the front door, then walked her out to her car. As they approached Neda’s Mustang, Gracie noticed a couple of boxes lying on the driveway next to her own car.

“What are those?” she asked as she moved closer.

When she caught sight of the familiar cake mix logo, she froze in place.

“What is it?” Neda asked.

Gracie couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. She could only stare at the two boxes that had obviously fallen out of her Subaru. No wonder, what with the back end of the vehicle being jam packed with what looked like hundreds of cake mix boxes.

“Are you kidding?” the reporter asked, sounding disgusted. “You use cake mix? That’s your secret ingredient?”

“No! These aren’t mine. You didn’t see them when you drove up. I haven’t used a cake mix since I was twelve. Someone did this.”

Neda shook her head. “Oh, sure. Someone knew I was coming and just happened to figure out when so they could plant this on you. Forget what I said about you making my wedding cake.”

Gracie picked up the boxes. They were full. “You have to believe me.”

“I don’t think so. You’re not special after all. I should have known.”

Neda opened her car door and tossed in her bag. When she turned around, Gracie saw the digital camera in her hand. Before Gracie could stop her, she’d already taken half a dozen pictures.

“Oh, and never mind about the article. We’re a reputable magazine,” Neda said as she climbed in her car. “I can’t believe you did this. Don’t you realize you’re spoiling people’s weddings? That’s so low. You seemed so nice, too, but I guess that was as much a lie as your cakes. You probably didn’t even make those decorations yourself. That’s why they were all stacked like that. You bought them somewhere.”

With that Neda slammed her door and sped away. Gracie stared after her. This couldn’t be happening, she told herself. It just couldn’t.

But it was, she thought as she stared at the cake box in her hand. Someone had set her up. And there was only one name she could think of:

Pam.

But even as she told herself no one else would bother, she honestly couldn’t think of a single reason as to why Pam would do this to her. The woman had been nothing but friendly and pleasant since Gracie moved back. She’d even rented out her kitchen.

Gracie fought tears as she dropped the boxes in the trash. Then she walked in the house, grabbed her purse, made sure the oven was off, then hurried to her car.

RILEY WRAPPED UP the meeting and walked back to his office. As he crossed in front of the elevators, they opened and Gracie stepped out. He took one look at her face and knew the worst-whatever that might be-had happened.

“What?” he asked as he put his arm around her and led her into his office. “Is someone hurt?”

She shook her head and gulped in a breath. “The cakes. I don’t understand how it happened. I told a few people, but no one knew when exactly. I think it’s Pam, but why? She’s been nice. It can’t be Jill, and I want to suspect my sisters but I never even told them. God forbid we talk about anything but them.”

He ushered her inside and closed the door. When they were alone and in private, he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her.

“Start at the beginning,” he said gently. “Tell me what happened.”

Instead, she began to cry. His first clue was the long silence. Then her body began to shake and finally he heard the soft sobs.

“I’m ruined,” she managed after a few minutes. “Completely ruined.”

“Not possible,” he said and kissed the top of her head. “What happened?”

Her answer was to cry harder. Riley had never been a fan of tears on a woman-they’d always seemed like a manipulation. But with Gracie, he felt differently. She didn’t want anything from him-except possibly for him to ease her pain.

She sniffed. “I need a tissue.”

He pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her.

She blotted her face, then turned from him and blew her nose.

“I’m not attractive when I cry. You should look away.”

He pulled her close again. “Right. Because I’m just in this because of how you look. Tell me what happened.”

“I had my interview with the bridal magazine person today.”

“Okay and then what?” He led her over to the sofa in the corner and tugged her down next to him. After angling toward her, he cupped her face. “I know you were charming and brilliant and you made a fan.”

Tears filled her blue eyes. “You’d think, wouldn’t you? She even asked me to bake her wedding cake. She’s getting married in December. But now…”

Her voice wavered and her shoulders slumped.

“Now, what?” he asked gently as he wiped her cheeks with his thumbs.

“She was leaving and I walked her outside. One of the things she wanted to talk about was the secret ingredient. I don’t tell anyone what I put in my cakes. I worked on the recipe forever and it’s really good.”

“I know. I’ve had your cake.”

She sniffed again. “There were boxes everywhere. Someone planted cake mix boxes in my car. They were spilled out onto the ground. She got mad. She took pictures and called me a liar and now I’m ruined.”

She covered her face and began to sob. He drew her close and settled her against his side.

The typical male side of him wanted to promise that everything would be all right, but he didn’t actually know that and he wasn’t about to pretend to Gracie. Her business survived on reputation and word-of-mouth. He knew what the mention in People had done for her career. If word got out that she was a fraud, clients could disappear overnight.

Frustration bubbled inside of him. He didn’t have a clue as to how to fix the problem and the need to do so burned hot and bright inside.

“Who would do this?” he asked. “Who would want to set you up? Are other cake decorators mad because you’re doing so well?”

She kept her head on his shoulder and wiped her face with the handkerchief. “I don’t know. We’re not exactly a close-knit group. No monthly meetings or any of that. I’ve met a few at wedding expos. They seemed nice enough. How would any of them know what I was doing or even where I was?”

“Who knew about the interview?”

“You, me, Jill. I’m sure she told Mac, but he would never do anything like this. And Pam.”

“Pam, my ex-wife?”

“Uh-huh. She was there when I got the call. She was really excited for me.”

“Yeah, right. Pam’s never been happy for anyone but herself in her entire life. Okay, she’s a prime suspect.”

Gracie straightened and looked at him. “I agree that of all the people who knew, Pam is the only one I don’t trust. But why would she do it? What does she care if I get a write-up in some bridal magazine? It’s a big deal with me, but not to anyone else. It’s not as if she has a rival bakery. My success, or lack of success, doesn’t impact her at all.”

“Good question. But there isn’t anyone else.”

“I know.” Gracie sighed. “I just don’t get it. Why? And what do I do now?”

“Do you want to confront Pam?”

“Not really. I want to crawl back home and have this never have happened. Can we do that?”

He stroked her hair. “Gracie, I know it’s horrible, but what’s the worst-case scenario? You don’t get the nice spread in the bridal magazine. You were doing well before-is not getting the notice going to be all that bad?”

She sat up and looked at him. “No, that’s not so bad. But I’m afraid that’s not the worst of it. I’ve made cakes for famous people-that makes me loosely linked to them. And there’s nothing anyone likes more than a scandal related to movie and television stars. If Neda just bad-mouths me at the magazine, I’ll be okay. But if she sells the story and the photos to a tabloid, then I’m completely and totally screwed.”

Pain darkened her eyes. Pain and a kind of hopelessness that made him want to lash out at someone-anyone, so long as it would make her feel better.

“What can I do?” he asked.

“Nothing. But I appreciate the thought.” She stood.

“You’ve been great, but I have to get going. There are more cakes to finish before my career flushes down the toilet.”

He rose. “You don’t know that will happen.”

She nodded. “Maybe I’ll get lucky, but I don’t think so.”

As he watched her leave, he tightened his hands into fists. There had to be something he could do, some way he could fix the problem. Or if not this problem, then another one. Because he had to do something. He couldn’t leave Gracie in that much pain.

GRACIE LOST HERSELF in work. Home seemed the safest place to be and with the worry that she could be trashed in some tabloid at any second, she desperately needed to work while she still could.

She avoided everyone, even Riley. She talked to Jill by phone, but didn’t mention the botched interview, and she stayed away from Pam and her bed-and-breakfast. Better to have to turn the pans every ten minutes than risk that encounter, she thought, still not sure why Pam would have done it.

Three days later, the world came calling in the form of someone knocking on her front door. She walked out to the small foyer and looked out the window.