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Sweetheart Deal
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Sweetheart Deal: A Mrs. Frugalicious Shopping Mystery © 2015 by Linda Joffe Hull.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
First e-book edition © 2015
E-book ISBN: 9780738744926
Book format by Teresa Pojar
Cover design by Lisa Novak
Cover illustration by Bunky Hurter
Editing by Nicole Nugent
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Hull, Linda Joffe, author.
Sweetheart deal / by Linda Joffe Hull. — First edition.
1 online resource. — (A Mrs. Frugalicious shopping mystery ; #3)
Summary: Maddie Michaels travels to Mexico to shoot a destination-wedding episode of The Family Frugalicious with her children and estranged husband. The pushy lothario of a timeshare manager ends up floating in the resort pool, however, sparking an impromptu investigation and threats against Mrs. Frugalicious.
Description based on print version record and CIP data provided by publisher; resource not viewed.
ISBN 978-0-73874492-6 () — ISBN 978-0-7387-3491-0 (softcover) 1. Murder—Investigation—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3608.U433
813’.6—dc23
2015028289
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For Andrew, Evan, and Eliza
one
The scenario was supposed to be straightforward: I, Maddie Michaels, AKA online blogger Mrs. Frugalicious, and, most recently, matriarch of the Reality Channel’s newest offering, The Family Frugalicious, was in beautiful, coastal Mexico to tape a sun-soaked, south-of-the-border, budget-destination wedding episode of my show.
Considering our arrival had been delayed by a freak ice storm that left us stranded for a day in Houston, and the fact that I was there to play savings-minded matron-of-honor for producer Anastasia Chastain’s televised nuptials, I knew better than to expect a relaxing, uneventful stay at the beach gazing out at the impossibly azure waters of the Mayan Riviera. Really, given the tumultuous events of the last year,1 it was crazy to expect things to go smoothly at all.
“I’m not feeling so well,” my husband2 Frank said, rubbing his sit-up flat stomach as we, the Family Frugalicious, pulled up to the grand columned portico of the Hacienda de la Fortuna a full twenty-four hours after we were due to arrive.
Before I could reach into my purse for a furry Tums, our director Geo appeared at the passenger window.
“Finally,” he said by way of hello, running his hands through his shoulder-length hair and leaning into the resort’s official SUV to hand me the day’s schedule:
11:00 a.m.: Arrival of travel-weary but excited Michaels clan.
11:05 a.m.: Enter hotel, comment on beauty and charm of lobby.
11:07 a.m.: Introduction of hotel staff.
11:15 a.m.: Appearance of Anastasia Chastain and wedding planner for “chance” greeting.
“Holy moly,” I said, continuing to scan the first of two single-spaced pages. “Is all of this just for today?”
“All we could do yesterday were visual shots and a few cut-ins of the bride and groom, so we have to make up for lost time,” Geo said, snatching the schedule and motioning our driver to take another spin around the circle so the cameras could document our “spontaneous” arrival. “Starting now.”
Luckily the kids were enthusiastic about their new status as reality TV personalities, so oohing and ahhing for the cameras while re-arriving once or twice for our beach “vacation” was hardly a problem. Their enthusiasm made the larger problem—that Frank and I were over and done, married in name only, and even that solely for the sake of the show—somewhat easier to conceal. As far as they and the network knew, we’d reconciled our various issues3 and arisen from the ashes new, improved, and full of value advice for our viewers.
We’d sailed through the small amount of shooting involved in pulling together the clips from my Black Friday murder misadventure for our pilot. We’d adjusted quickly to a crew wearing backward baseball caps and cameras strapped to their shoulders making themselves comfortable in our house and everywhere else we needed to go.
I questioned, however, just how we were going to keep up our charade under the watchful eyes of our children, our producer bride, and a wedding’s worth of guests.
Nevertheless, we managed to kick things off with big smiles as we stepped out of the car, entered the opulent lobby of the Hacienda de la Fortuna, and stepped over to our mark in front of a second camera.
“Wow!” Frank said, turning on the charm despite rubbing his stomach. “What a place!”
“Totally cool!” said our teenage son FJ, a younger, sandy-haired clone of his handsome father.
“Where’s the pool?” asked my college-coed stepdaughter, Eloise.
“The website said there are like five of them,” added Trent, our other son and FJ’s identical twin. “Not to mention the beach!”
“I expected it to be beautiful and fun here,” I agreed as I took in what felt like a football field’s worth of marble, gleaming chandeliers, scrolled ironwork, dark wood, and opulent colonial plantation charm. “But I had no idea it would be this elegant!”
On cue, a handsome Hispanic man with a slim physique joined us.
“I am Enrique, the general manager of Hacienda de la Fortuna,” he said, offering a fetching smile and a handshake. “Mi casa es su casa.”
“Muchas gracias,” I said, in my best (but still faulty) Spanish.
Enrique gestured behind me. “Allow me to introduce some of the staff assigned to making sure your stay is an exceptional one.”
I turned to find a line of employees clad in the same peach, white, and chocolate color scheme of the lobby.
“You’ve already met Felipe,” he said, as our chatty, grandfatherly driver rushed in from outside and joined the group.
“Is all that Mayan sacrifice stuff he told us about on the way from the airport really true?” Trent asked.
“No one knows more about this area than Felipe,” Enrique said with a nod, before moving on to the gentleman to Felipe’s right. “Next we have Jorge, our concierge. Beside him is Benito, our head chef, who is putting the finishing touche
s on a special menu for a private dinner we’ve arranged for your family on Sunday night.”
“Sounds wonderful.”
“It will be,” Benito said, with no trace of humility. “I assume you’re all open to local—”
“Maddie! Frank! Kids!!” Anastasia Chastain—blond beauty, bride-to-be, and all around savvy, type-A producer—came rushing across the lobby trailed by three women who looked too much like her not to be her sisters. She enveloped me in a huge hug. “I’m so relieved you’re finally here! I’ve bitten my nails down to the quick worrying about the safe arrival of my favorite family. Wondering when, if, you’d actually—”
“Mother Nature was giving you the gift of the inevitable wedding glitch early, before things really got underway,” said an attractive woman in official garb, joining the group.
“This is Elena, the resort’s wedding planner,” Anastasia said, as though anyone that self-assured, pretty-if-severe-looking, and bearing such a firm handshake could be anyone else. “And these are my sisters, Susan, Sara, and Sally.”
I gave each sister a hello hug despite Anastasia’s warning that they’d likely be slow to warm up because of dismay over her choice of me as matron of honor. It was a decision she’d made partly for the sake of this special episode of The Family Frugalicious, but mainly to keep from having to pick any one of her sisters over the others.
“I’m sorry the delay threw things off schedule,” I said. “What can I do to help make sure the wedding goes off without any more unintended hitches?”
“Just be at the rehearsal at five sharp,” Elena said.
“Cut!” Geo said. “Let’s set up for the next shot.”
“Good, because I think I’m about to die,” Frank said, rushing off for a nearby baño while Elena, Anastasia, and most of the staff scattered in various directions.
“I didn’t think that was supposed to happen until you were down here for a day or two,” Trent remarked. “Must have been that breakfast burrito he ate at the airport.”
“This is not good,” Geo said, tugging at the chin of his hipster beard. “We’re behind schedule as it is.”
“I’m sure Frank will be back in a few minutes,” I said. “He was fine until we drove up.”
“I guess I’ll have you do a pre-cap4 while we wait to do a second take,” Geo said, reaching into a nearby folder and handing me a piece of paper. “The Hacienda de la Fortuna has a few things for you to say.”
“Okay,” I said, looking over a list of “candid” talking points penned not by me, but by a Family Frugalicious staff writer. “But I don’t even have time to memorize—”
“We have cue cards.”
“Do I at least have a few seconds to freshen up?” I asked, glad I was learning to expect the unexpected enough to leave Houston in a sundress (albeit beneath my down coat), but wondering just how harried I looked after a mostly sleepless night, the flight, customs, an hour drive to the resort, and the shock to my hair and skin of the bona fide humidity lacking back home in Denver.
“You have a wardrobe change in fifteen minutes,” one of the assistants said.
“Into bathing suits, I hope?” Eloise asked. “Please say you plan to tape us spending the afternoon hanging by the pool and ordering smoothies or something.”
“Or something,” said a young man who appeared beside her. “At least for you and your brothers.”
“Meet Ivan,” said Enrique. “Head of activities.”
“Hi,” said Ivan, whose official garb was clearly at odds with his light brown dreadlocks, nose ring, and the sea turtle tattoo on his bicep. “Nice to meet all of you.”
“You have no accent,” Trent said.
“I grew up in California,” Ivan said with a dimpled smile. “But my heart is here in Mexico.”
“This does seem like a pretty chill place,” FJ said.
“There’s definitely a lot to see and do,” Ivan said. “Like spending this afternoon at one of the nearby cenotes.”
“Cenotes?” Trent asked.
“Beautiful, clear, freshwater sinkholes where we can swim and snorkel.”
“Sounds cool,” FJ said.
I waited for the inevitable sniff and brush-off from the typically high-maintenance Eloise.
“Are there snakes or anything creepy-crawly there?” she asked.
“I’ll make sure there isn’t.”
“You sure?”
“Positive,” Ivan said. “And I’m sure we have a picnic lunch already packed for you and your brothers.”
“Okay.” Eloise smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”
The next thing I knew, the kids and company were out the front door of the hotel and I was sitting on a barstool in front of another, pretending I wasn’t reading off the aforementioned cue cards:
“We’re here at the beautiful Hacienda de la Fortuna for my producer Anastasia Chastain’s wedding! I was thrilled when Stasia asked me to be her matron of honor and Frank to be the best man. Being the frugal shopper I am though, I have to admit I had a few second thoughts about the cost of traveling and staying at an all-inclusive resort …”
Geo signaled for me to smile.
“Boy, was I surprised to find out just how wrong I was! By following a few simple tips, here we are enjoying affordable paradise—all five of us!”
Anastasia gave me a thumbs up from across the lobby.
Considering her wedding and our lodging had been comped by the hotel, I felt a stab of consternation wondering what tips I could possibly be about to give. Luckily as I began to recite them, they all seemed to be pretty much Budget Conscious Travel 101:
1. Instead of going on two different family getaways this year, make the wedding part of an extended family vacation or your own second honeymoon—you’ll save on everything from airfare to hassle!
2. Set a price alert as soon as the couple sets the date and book your flights when a sale pops up.
3. Most resorts offer great block rates for bridal parties. Here at the Hacienda de la Fortuna, for example, rooms booked for special events are up to 50% off!
4. All-inclusive means that your meals, beverages (including cocktails), and even some activities are included in the price. Plan sightseeing trips off the resort property between meal times when you can, or order box meals from the hotel so there will be few additional costs.
Nothing the show’s writers had come up with served to promote the resort in any unexpected way. Not until the next tip, that was …
5. One way to get the most value out of your next resort-style vacation is to sign up for the vacation ownership presentation. Here at the Hacienda de la Fortuna, for example, they offer incentives like upgraded rooms simply for agreeing to give them ninety, no-obligation minutes of your time!
I was prompted to smile once again.
“Cut,” Geo said.
“We’re pushing the resort’s timeshare presentation?”
“Providing promotional consideration.”
“Like an infomercial?”
“Like a reality show about bargain hunting that, to add to its overall appeal, is helping viewers navigate the ins and outs of vacation ownership,” Geo said, sounding just a little more impressed with himself than usual.
“Okay …” I said, but suddenly I was distracted by the appearance of a man that could only be described as tall, dark, and muy guapo.
The next thing I knew, he was standing beside me in the bar/makeshift set area and the camera was rolling again.
“I’m Alejandro,” he said, looking that much more chiseled, broad, and altogether attractive up close. Even his peach hotel-issue polo shirt and tan khakis looked somehow suave. “And I’ve been looking forward to spending the afternoon with the famous Mrs. Frugalicious.”
1. Including but not limited to my financial newscaster husband losing all of our money in a Ponzi scheme, my transformation from well-heeled housewife into reality TV’s Mrs. Frugalicious, a series of savings-related scrapes, and two murders.
&
nbsp; 2. So to speak—see next footnote.
3. Not only his personal indiscretions, but also his creative solution to keep me in the fold by orchestrating a television deal for us as a family whereby we pretended to be happily married in order to foot the bill for our children’s college education and restore his tarnished image, thus re-ensuring our financial future.
4. An interview of a reality show participant before or early into a major event that captures the excitement and anticipatory giddiness.
two
“I’m sorry your husband is feeling under the weather,” Alejandro said.
“Me too,” I said with crossed fingers. I wouldn’t wish stomach discomfort on anyone, not even my all-but-former husband. However, I wasn’t entirely unhappy about having my own private tour of the hotel property. Especially since Alejandro, with his thick brown hair, light brown eyes, and just shy of full lips, was the closest I was going to come to a date until Frank and I could officially un-couple.
But just then Frank reappeared from the men’s room looking downright pasty. He seemed to regain a bit of color as he introduced himself to naturally bronze Alejandro, who, as I suspected, ran the vacation ownership operations for the resort. Frank, who made it a point to always be camera-ready, appeared to be on the mend while we did the necessary extra takes, had a quick story day wardrobe change, mulled over a script for the segment, and strolled across the lobby for the camera, past the veranda where the rehearsal dinner was to take place. We made our way over to the poolside café.
Frank did his part, admiring the grounds and abundant grandeur of the hotel. One glance at the pan of refried beans bubbling at the lunch buffet however, and whatever color had returned to his face drained.
He rushed away once more.
Alejandro and I found ourselves dining alone. We indulged in a pleasant poolside lunch of shrimp quesadillas and I had my first of what threatened to be a weekend’s worth of the Hacienda de la Fortuna’s signature bottomless mango margaritas.
The drinks went down a little too easily as Alejandro shared details about his youth, graduating with honors from the Universidad Autónoma de Somewhere-in-Mexico and working his way up in the resort business. His relaxed style and easy laugh had me revealing not only a few tidbits about my life and family, but comfortable enough to recite a cue card–prompted vacation ownership wish list I hadn’t created. Thankfully it was both reasonable and accurate: