American library books » Other » Chocolate Chip Cookie Conundrum (Murder in the Mix Book 32) by Unknown (the lemonade war series .TXT) 📕

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was on the wrong end of a dairy farm once that mechanism began suctioning the very soul from my body. Noah walked into the kitchen where we had set up what Keelie referred to as my own personal Dairy Queen, and he belted out a genuine scream before apologizing. I assured him I wanted to scream, too.

I snap my fingers at my mother. “And there’s a pacifier in there for her if she wants it—the cute one that says I love my daddy.”

Carlotta chuckles. “I bought that one for her. In fact, I bought her two, one for each daddy.”

I make a face. “Okay, and well, if she needs anything at all, whatsoever, I’m right here. I don’t care if we’re taping. I don’t care if we’re live. Don’t hesitate to bring her to me.” My chest bucks with emotion at the thought of being away from my sweet peanut for one hot second. I can hardly go to the bathroom without missing her.

Mom rolls her eyes. “Lottie, she will be fine. First babies are always little angels. That’s how the universe tricks you into having another one. Oh, you made such a cute little baby, Lottie. You have to find out who the father is and make another one right away. The more the merrier.”

Carlotta’s entire body shakes with a laugh. “If it’s Foxy, I’m sure Sexy will understand. You’re under direct orders from your mother.”

“That’s one directive I won’t be following,” I say. “I can barely keep up with Lyla Nell.”

“Oh, come now—go on and get,” Mom shoos me away. “This is it, the big day we’ve all been waiting for. We get to find out if Lyla Nell belongs to Noah or Everett. And I know, I know, she belongs to both. But you get what I mean. Now go.”

She flicks me away, and soon Carlotta is pulling me across the stage and behind the scenes of what looks to be an overgrown garage. There are just as many people bustling around backstage as there are in front, and standing not ten feet in front of us is the host herself, Candace Cottonwood. The brunette is dressed in a turquoise blouse and matching skirt as she speaks to a lanky woman with short dark hair and large serious eyes. Both women are going over a clipboard and nodding before the one with short hair pulls it back abruptly and suddenly their exchange looks rather tense.

“There she is!” I say, giving Carlotta’s arm a squeeze. “That’s Candace! This is the first time I’m seeing her since I’ve arrived, and, oh wow, just look at her,” I muse. “She’s every bit as glamorous in real life as she is on TV.”

Carlotta huffs at the thought. “Please, Lot. She’s every bit as diabolical in real life as she is on TV. Let’s head back where we came from, and we can circle around the other direction to head to hair and makeup.”

“Are you insane? We’d have to walk around the entire studio. Besides, I want to meet her before the show. You know, to take the edge off my jitters.”

“What do you think God gave you Noah and Everett for? Find a dark corner and edge off all you want, or get jittery with it, whatever you kids are calling it these days.”

I shake my head, choosing to ignore her ramblings.

The lanky woman with short hair says something a touch too loud and caustic to Candace before stalking off past us.

“Well, that was awkward,” I whisper.

“Yup,” Carlotta says, still doing her best to pull me in the opposite direction. “And it’s about to get a heck of a lot more awkward. Come on, Lot. This is our last chance to make an escape.”

“Would you—” My mouth remains open as Candace strides this way. “Hello,” I say as she’s about to pass us by. “I’m Lottie Lemon.” I give a shrug as if I wasn’t exactly sure if that was true. “I’m actually one of your guests today.”

“Oh.” The stalky woman with a round face forces a smile. Candace Cottonwood is a force of nature. Some might say she’s a typhoon of a woman. She’s been known to get downright nasty with her guests, and it’s exactly that surly behavior that’s put her on the map. “Yes, you are.” A smile starts on her lips as she squints my way right before she looks to Carlotta and gasps. “Why, as I live and breathe, is it really you, Unibrow?” She steps in close and gapes at Carlotta.

“Unibrow?” I mumble as I glance back at Carlotta. What in the world is this woman talking about? “Carlotta, you don’t have a unibrow,” I’m quick to assure her.

Maybe Candace here is having some sort of a brain malfunction?

“Not anymore.” Carlotta glares at the woman before us. “Long time no see, Man Candy.”

I blink back. “Wait a minute,” I say. “Are the two of you throwing barbs at one another?”

Candace expels a riotous laugh. “I guess you could say that. Let me guess, Unibrow, this is the reason you left Honey Hollow High all those years ago?” she asks while hitching her thumb my way. “Oh my word, Lottie, I knew your mother way back when. In fact”—she shoots Carlotta the side-eye—“we bumped into one another shortly after she had you, and I got to see—”

“My new dress”—Carlotta says, yanking the woman away by the arm and pulling her behind a large metal ladder as the two of them start to go at it. I hear the words hate you, the word secret, and the words you will pay for this being spit out intermittently—and oddly enough, from both parties.

“I’ll just head to hair and makeup,” I say as I follow the signs, but before I can get there I spot two of the most handsome men in all of Vermont. I guess Noah and Everett are all done with hair and makeup. Instead, I find them standing in front of the refreshment table as

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