Pasta Imperfect - By Maddy Hunter Page 0,29

me like a Ferrari. "I'm sorry about your roommate," I called toward Brandy Ann as she headed for the door.

She ground to a quick stop and turned around, her eyes locating me amid the dozen guests who were huddled in tight knots, examining their city maps. She hazarded a tense smile and retraced her steps back to me.

"You heard, huh?" She ranged a look around the room. "I guess everyone has heard by now."

"Duncan told the group at breakfast."

She nodded. "I don't do breakfast. Too many carbs and refined sugars in breakfast food. A person would be better off opening a vein and injecting cyanide." She doubled her fist and gave her arm a quick pump, inflating her biceps like a rubber tire. My eyes rounded. My stomach muscles twitched. A person of normal intelligence would not want to get on Brandy Ann Frounfelker's bad side.

"Really bad luck on Cassandra's part," Brandy Ann admitted. "But she brought it on herself. I don't want to be judgmental, but anyone who owns shoes like that has to have a death wish. They might have looked great with the dress she snitched from you, but look where they got her."

"You didn't seem too happy last night that she grabbed my dress away from you."

"I wasn't. I even made some inane remark, threatening her. Did you hear me? Heat of the moment. But I got over it."

Before or after Cassandra fell down the stairs? I wondered.

"The thing is, I can't let all these petty distractions grab my attention. I need to stay focused on my outline and pages and submit the best entry I can."

Personally, I considered death more than a petty distraction. "Duncan told me Cassandra had completed two novels and was beginning work on a third. Sounds as if she really knew how to stay focused."

Brandy Ann barked out a sour laugh. "She paid Keely a ton of money to coach her through those first two books."

"Cassandra subscribed to Keely's Internet service?"

"Until recently, when Keely raised her rates. Then Cassandra apparently decided to go it alone. I read some of her work last night. It wasn't half-bad. She had talent. It's a shame she's dead. Like they said in that old movie, 'she mighta been a contenda.' "

"Brandy Ann!" Amanda trotted up beside us, her inch-long hair devoid of spikes, but her nose still armed to open aluminum cans. "I'm ready to make the move. It's really easy when you don't have luggage."

My gaze drifted from one to the other. "What move?"

Amanda ruffled her hair into disarray and tossed her head back with attitude. I cocked my head to regard the result. Oh, yeah. Big improvement. "We're going to share a room while we're here," she said. "We're really on the same wavelength, and we need lots of time together to help each other with contest stuff. We could even tie for first place."

"I thought Keely was going to help you."

The women sidled meaningful looks at each other. "We've decided we don't need her help," Brandy Ann announced in a voice that dripped honey.

"Yeah," Amanda agreed. "Keely is obnoxious. She thinks she knows it all. I don't want her help, and I don't want to room with her anymore. So I'm moving in with Brandy Ann. I wanted to make the switch last night, but Keely wouldn't --"

"Look, we have to go," Brandy Ann interrupted, pulling Amanda away from me. "We have things to do."

"What were you going to say?" I called at Amanda's back.

Amanda threw me an off-balance wave as Brandy Ann dragged her out the door. Keely wouldn't what? I wondered. Agree to change roommates? Hmm. That hadn't stopped Amanda and Brandy Ann from getting their way though, had it? Was it the mother of all coincidences that Brandy Ann's room had suddenly "opened up," or what?

No mistaking it. I was getting a bad feeling about this.

"You can come along with George and me once he shows up," I heard Nana say close behind me. "Most days, he don't even need no map."

I turned around to find her standing with Marla Michaels and Gillian Jones, whose five-foot-by-five-foot Florence map was already resembling a wind - battered kite, and they hadn't even stepped outside yet.

"We need to get...here," Gillian said, poking the map with her forefinger. "Duncan says that's where the clothing stores are."

"Maybe we should be creative about our clothes situation," Marla suggested as she smoothed her muumuu over her hips. "We could try lashing some leaves together. Remember? You