responded by starting her own ladies poker club, which had all but decimated the ranks of the original bridge club. They played once a week in the back room at Laura Jo Starkey’s diner and had the reputation for being quite the competitive poker sharks. Average age: seventy-six.
In fact, it was Alva’s penchant for setting up betting pools for everything from how many hurricanes would threaten their shores in a season (Category 3 or higher, no wimpy hurricanes for Alva) to, oh, what item would take the highest bid at the fall festival silent auction. That had been the cause of the silent auction rule change. Last Lani heard, Alva wasn’t allowed in the senior center on bingo night anymore, either.
“My dear Lani May, I have had that little talk with Walter,” Alva said, the twinkle a bit smug. “I don’t know what’s in them, but I’ve got dibs on two boxes, sight unseen. We’re having our monthly all-nighter tournament this Monday.” She leaned closer. “Can’t you just give me a tiny little hint?”
“How exactly did you find out I was a sponsor?”
“You know Walter’s wife, Beryl? Well, she currently holds the number two ranking in the club.” Alva lowered her voice again, despite being the only one in the shop at the moment. “It’s no secret she wants her title back. Dee Dee Banneker—she took the points lead after the last tournament. Well, she’s a wiley one, Dee Dee is. So, Beryl will take any advantage she can get. And don’t you know she’s not above hoping a little sugar rush will put the other girls off their game. Namely Dee Dee and her two closest friends, Suzette and Louise. Those three make a formidable little clutch, let me tell you. But your cupcakes are simply to die for, and Beryl knows the girls won’t stop with just one. Plus Beryl’s got Laura Jo on her side.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Laura Jo is going to serve that sangria she learned to make on her cruise last year. Between that and all the chocolate—I know you had to do something chocolate, am I right? Well, between the cupcakes and sangria, if Beryl can just resist temptation, I think she’s got this one in the bag.”
Only because all the other women will be half in the bag , Lani thought, thinking that mixing black forest ganache cupcakes, sangria, and senior citizens up past their bedtime was trouble just waiting to happen, but she kept a smile on her face all the same. Picturing Alva’s peers getting looped on sweet wine and chocolate pretty much did the trick.
“What happens if you don’t win the bid?” Lani asked.
Alva’s smile curved more deeply. “Mark my words, Beryl will make Walter’s life taste like a bitter, bitter pill if we don’t serve your delicious cupcakes Monday night. She can’t bid herself, conflict of interest and all, so she came to me. I’ve already got odds on Beryl, but the line, of course, still favors Dee.” Alva winked, then primly tucked her itty bitty clutch under her arm and stepped back from the counter, looking as innocent as a nun in church. “They don’t know we’ll have the secret weapon.”
Lani couldn’t help grinning. Betty the Bookie, indeed. With her secret weapon cakes. “Speaking of weapons, how’s the campaign for your column coming? Have you convinced Dwight yet?” Lani leaned her hip against the counter and smiled. “You know, I hear he’s a sucker for cupcakes. Just saying.”
Dwight Bennett was the editor of the local Daily Islander , for which Alva had been quite vocally lobbying to write an advice column. Dwight wanted a gardening column, or what he termed “ladies club” news. But since Alva’s idea of a ladies club included no-limits Texas hold ’em tournaments and bourbon tastings, he somehow didn’t think she was the right woman for the job.
Too late Lani realized she’d led Alva straight back to the topic she’d come into the shop to gab about in the first place. Dammit.
“The dear man can’t see beyond his
In fact, it was Alva’s penchant for setting up betting pools for everything from how many hurricanes would threaten their shores in a season (Category 3 or higher, no wimpy hurricanes for Alva) to, oh, what item would take the highest bid at the fall festival silent auction. That had been the cause of the silent auction rule change. Last Lani heard, Alva wasn’t allowed in the senior center on bingo night anymore, either.
“My dear Lani May, I have had that little talk with Walter,” Alva said, the twinkle a bit smug. “I don’t know what’s in them, but I’ve got dibs on two boxes, sight unseen. We’re having our monthly all-nighter tournament this Monday.” She leaned closer. “Can’t you just give me a tiny little hint?”
“How exactly did you find out I was a sponsor?”
“You know Walter’s wife, Beryl? Well, she currently holds the number two ranking in the club.” Alva lowered her voice again, despite being the only one in the shop at the moment. “It’s no secret she wants her title back. Dee Dee Banneker—she took the points lead after the last tournament. Well, she’s a wiley one, Dee Dee is. So, Beryl will take any advantage she can get. And don’t you know she’s not above hoping a little sugar rush will put the other girls off their game. Namely Dee Dee and her two closest friends, Suzette and Louise. Those three make a formidable little clutch, let me tell you. But your cupcakes are simply to die for, and Beryl knows the girls won’t stop with just one. Plus Beryl’s got Laura Jo on her side.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Laura Jo is going to serve that sangria she learned to make on her cruise last year. Between that and all the chocolate—I know you had to do something chocolate, am I right? Well, between the cupcakes and sangria, if Beryl can just resist temptation, I think she’s got this one in the bag.”
Only because all the other women will be half in the bag , Lani thought, thinking that mixing black forest ganache cupcakes, sangria, and senior citizens up past their bedtime was trouble just waiting to happen, but she kept a smile on her face all the same. Picturing Alva’s peers getting looped on sweet wine and chocolate pretty much did the trick.
“What happens if you don’t win the bid?” Lani asked.
Alva’s smile curved more deeply. “Mark my words, Beryl will make Walter’s life taste like a bitter, bitter pill if we don’t serve your delicious cupcakes Monday night. She can’t bid herself, conflict of interest and all, so she came to me. I’ve already got odds on Beryl, but the line, of course, still favors Dee.” Alva winked, then primly tucked her itty bitty clutch under her arm and stepped back from the counter, looking as innocent as a nun in church. “They don’t know we’ll have the secret weapon.”
Lani couldn’t help grinning. Betty the Bookie, indeed. With her secret weapon cakes. “Speaking of weapons, how’s the campaign for your column coming? Have you convinced Dwight yet?” Lani leaned her hip against the counter and smiled. “You know, I hear he’s a sucker for cupcakes. Just saying.”
Dwight Bennett was the editor of the local Daily Islander , for which Alva had been quite vocally lobbying to write an advice column. Dwight wanted a gardening column, or what he termed “ladies club” news. But since Alva’s idea of a ladies club included no-limits Texas hold ’em tournaments and bourbon tastings, he somehow didn’t think she was the right woman for the job.
Too late Lani realized she’d led Alva straight back to the topic she’d come into the shop to gab about in the first place. Dammit.
“The dear man can’t see beyond his
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