‘The wedding dress,’ Olivia prompted.
‘Oh, I’ll check out the sales in a couple of weeks’ time,’ said Lillian. ‘Who knows, I might find something.’
Her gaze slid back down to her paperback. Ivy pointed up towards her bedroom with her baking spoon and shot Olivia a questioning look. Olivia knew what she was asking. Lillian was certainly older and more experienced than they were – it would make sense to ask her for help in dealing with the blogger. But then again, did they really want to disrupt their future stepmom’s serenity right now?
Making a decision, Olivia shook her head firmly at Ivy. They already had Groomzilla on their hands – the last thing they needed was for the bride to stress out too.
‘Lillian? Is that you?’ Charles opened the back door and poked his head inside. ‘I need your opinion on something.’
Still holding Bare Throats at Sunset in her hands, Lillian wandered idly out into the garden to join him. Charles’s voice floated through the open door. ‘If we used Option Three for a marquee and Option Four for the seating arrangements –’ The door closed behind Lillian, shutting off the sound of his voice.
Watching through the window, Olivia saw that, even though Lillian cocked her head attentively as Charles continued to babble, she continued sneak-reading her book.
Then Ivy poked Olivia’s shoulder, distracting her from the show outside. ‘Why did you make me stop?’ she hissed. ‘Lillian would have listened to us. She’s not wedding-crazy like Dad.’
‘Not yet,’ Olivia said. ‘But weddings are so stressful, Lillian’s crazy moments have to be on the way soon – it’s kinder not to bother her with anything just yet.’
‘Well . . . actually, you might have a point.’ Ivy sighed and joined Olivia at the window.
‘I wish I could hear what they’re saying,’ Olivia said.
‘No,’ Ivy said. ‘You really don’t. Trust me.’ She tapped her ears, reminding Olivia that she could hear every word with her vampire super-senses. ‘It’s way too boring and grown-up to be worth eavesdropping on.’
‘Still.’ Olivia leaned companionably against her sister. ‘If I ever get married, I hope I’ll be as relaxed as Lillian and as organised as our bio-dad – the best of both worlds.’ She sighed wistfully, imagining a wedding dress with a huge, sparkly white train. She would feel like an absolute princess as she walked down the aisle to meet her prince – who would not, she told herself firmly, look anything like Jackson, no matter what images her mind conjured up. ‘What about you, Ivy? What kind of arrangements do you want when you get married?’
There was a moment of dead silence. Then Olivia turned to see her twin’s horrified expression, and they both burst out laughing at the same time.
‘Sorry,’ Olivia said, almost choking on her laughter. ‘That was a silly question, wasn’t it?’ The idea of grumpy goth Ivy in a big, billowing white dress . . .
‘It certainly was,’ Ivy said, wrapping one arm around Olivia’s shoulders. ‘Ivy plus meringue dresses equals the biggest, baddest mood. On the other hand . . .’ She licked her wooden baking spoon with an exaggerated flourish. ‘Ivy plus meringues? Now you’re talking!’
With perfect timing, the oven bell dinged. ‘They’re ready!’ Olivia said, and raced to the oven, pulling on pink oven mitts. Why should Olivia care about unavailable dream-boys or vampire-obsessed bloggers when she had a twin like Ivy at her side?
Plus now there were cakes to eat!
Chapter Three
Ivy only wished that she could dismiss the mysterious blogger so easily. A day after they’d first discovered the web site, Olivia was running around like a rabbit who’d been fed energy drinks, getting everything ready for the baking party. Ivy took advantage of her twin’s distraction to go up to her room and get back online.
A few moments later, she was grinding her teeth as she finished reading the blogger’s latest entry:
‘ . . . Is it really true that vampires can’t stand garlic? This brave journalist is determined to find out, no matter what it takes – so watch this space !’
Some poor vampire was going to be in real trouble if they didn’t stay on their toes. Ivy still remembered a time she’d mistakenly eaten a pastrami sandwich with garlic in it – she’d taken two days to recover!
How was this blogger actually getting things right? And even more importantly, who were they? No matter how much Ivy poked about on the web site, she just couldn’t find a clue to his or her identity. Even when she ran the blog through the Vorld Vide Veb, nothing came up except a load of hysterical messages from vampires worried about their secrets being exposed.
Ivy hated to admit it, but they had good reason to worry . . . and she’d just had a nasty suspicion of her own. What if the mystery blogger was actually the journalist Serena Star, back on the vampire case? Calling herself ‘The Star of Truth’, she’d come dangerously close to exposing the secrets of Franklin Grove before the twins had outwitted her. If she was back for a second shot, that could really spell disaster.
Ivy had to talk to Olivia. Carrying her laptop with her, she headed down to the kitchen – just as the doorbell sounded.
Drat !
Letting out a squeal of excitement, Olivia flew down the hallway to answer it. Sighing, Ivy looked for a safe place to set down her laptop. After all the energy Olivia had put into preparing this baking party, Ivy couldn’t ruin it for her. I’ll just have to do my best to put the blogger out of my mind . . . for an afternoon.
‘We’re the first ones here!’ Sophia said, as she swept into the kitchen in front of a lagging Brendan. Behind him, Camilla was rummaging in her bag. Ivy could guess what she was rummaging for.
‘And we’ve brought ingredients!’ Wearing uber-glamorous sunglasses, Sophia waved a shoulder bag that could have come straight from the Prada line-up.