Anything You Can Do - By Sally Berneathy Page 0,24

admit the meal was wonderful even if Austin had cooked it. Of course her cheesecake would be every bit as wonderful. Magnanimously she added her praise to the compliments of Gordon and Paula.

"It's just something I whipped up on the spur of the moment," he replied, mocking her earlier comment.

Okay, that was fair, Bailey decided. "Touché," she said. "Actually, I spent more time and effort on that blasted cheesecake than I spend preparing a case for trial."

"Half that effort was expended in cursing," Paula explained and everyone laughed.

Bailey felt mellow, warm in the company of friends, even Austin. Eagerly she anticipated his approval of her creation—grudging approval, probably. He'd hate to admit she'd won again. Grudging but respectful. Yes, she liked that idea.

"How about we adjourn to the living room?" Gordon suggested. "Is everybody up for real coffee with dessert or should I make decaf? Bailey, would you come slice your cheesecake?"

When everyone was settled with a steaming cup of coffee, Bailey proudly served pieces of the cream colored dessert topped by bright red splashes. Gordon and Paula murmured compliments as they prepared to take their first bite. Austin was silent, but that was to be expected. Naturally he'd resent her stealing his thunder.

She watched them as they chewed and swallowed, waited for expressions of delight. No one said anything nor did they take a second bite.

"Well?" she finally asked when they all seemed intent on draining their coffee cups.

Gordon set his dish on the coffee table. Samantha prissed over, sniffed, turned up her nose, and walked away. The three of them burst into laughter.

"Did you do this on purpose?" Gordon asked.

"Bailey, dear friend, I think you'd better stick to being a lawyer," Paula suggested. "Make enough money you can hire a chef."

"You're all very funny," Bailey retorted, taking her own first bite.

Maybe they weren't just being funny. It didn't taste quite right. In fact, it tasted pretty awful, sort of like greasy cardboard with gritty raspberries. But her difficulty in swallowing wasn't just from the bad flavor. A big lump seemed to have risen in her throat.

As if that wasn't bad enough, she looked up to find Austin staring directly at her, those unnatural eyes piercing to her very soul. She wanted to run home and hide for the rest of her life.

In the distance, far away, she could hear Paula telling the home ec story. The floor didn't seem likely to open up beneath her feet, so she'd have to face the situation head-on.

Then Austin's voice cut through the fog, loud and clear. "My compliments," he said smoothly, actually forking another bite into his mouth.

Bailey watched him in stunned fascination.

"Austin, you're going to die a painful death," Gordon warned.

"Gordon, remember how I used to tell you your taste was all in your mouth? Well, I take that back. It certainly isn't there, either, if you can't appreciate the delicate flavor of this dessert. You've become accustomed to the frozen variety. This is unique, homemade, more like the deli varieties in New York." So saying, he took another bite.

The overblown praise had to be sarcasm. Yet he continued to eat and smile.

Doubting her own judgment, Bailey took another bite, searching for the New York flavor. This bite went down easier because the lump in her throat was dissolving, but it didn't taste any better. If that was what they liked in New York, she'd continue to take her vacations in the South.

Looking up, she caught Paula and Gordon exchanging confused glances then retrieving their plates for another taste. Puzzled, she turned her attention to Austin, but he was concentrating on eating and didn't look up.

This made no sense. He couldn't possibly like greasy cardboard. If it were anyone but Austin, she'd think he was being kind, trying to make her feel good, throwing the race.

Somehow she made it through the rest of the evening, but she didn't dare look at Austin. If she'd seen sympathy or pity in his eyes, she couldn't have stood it. That would be the ultimate sign of losing.

Finally it was time to leave, to get away from everyone, to hide, regain control, and sort out the evening.

"Did you check the park today?" Gordon asked Paula as Bailey unlocked the car doors and plopped Samantha into the backseat.

"No. I'm going tomorrow. Which reminds me—" She opened the passenger door and retrieved Bailey's ill-fated shopping bag from The Complete Kitchen. "I answered twenty of the letters from prospective Prince Charmings." She turned to Bailey. "We need