The Pink Lemonade Charade Read online

  Chris and Susan couldn’t help feeling satisfied as they sat over their celebratory breakfast at the hotel’s coffee shop. Susan read the article aloud while Chris sat back in her chair, too excited to touch her food.

  “Well, she made it,” Susan said with a smile. “The Pink Lemonade Charade really worked. The fact that it’s now front-page news proves it!”

  “Read me the part about us again,” Chris insisted for the third time.

  Her sister was only too happy to oblige.

  “ ‘The dark-haired ballerina claims that she never could have carried it off without the aid of two American girls whom she met while the dance troupe was here in Washington for its premier performance. “I owe everything to my new American friends, Christine and Susan Pratt,” said Natasha Samchenko, her brown eyes filling with tears. “Without them, I never would have been able to gain my freedom.”

  “I think we should be pretty proud of ourselves,” Chris said, wearing a huge grin.

  “Me, too,” Susan agreed. “After all, we helped Natasha get exactly what she wanted.”

  “That’s right. We thought up a brilliant scheme, carried it out to the letter....”

  “Don’t forget,” Susan added with a grin, “we never would have managed without a little help from our friends. Or, should I say, a little help from Natasha’s friends!”

  Chris sighed. “Yes, it was all pretty exciting, wasn’t it? As a matter of fact, just thinking about it is making me hungry!” Suddenly she had found her appetite. She was just about to start wolfing down her breakfast when their waiter came over to their table.

  “Excuse me, but are you two girls the Pratt twins, by any chance?” he asked.

  “We certainly are!” Chris turned to her sister. “See, we’re already famous!”

  “There’s a telephone call for Susan Pratt,” their waiter went on to say.

  Chris was crestfallen, “Is that all. And here I was certain he was going to ask for our autograph, or at least compliment us on our bravery.”

  “Well, who knows?” Susan countered. “Maybe this phone call is from—I don’t know, some television station, or—or the president, or—or—”

  “You’d better hurry up and take that call!” Chris cried. “Now I’m dying to know what’s so important that somebody went to the trouble of tracking us down!”

  While Susan scampered away, Chris turned back to her breakfast, determined to eat at least a little bit of it before giving up on the notion entirely. But then she felt someone’s presence nearby. She glanced up and found Skip Desmond hovering near the table.

  “Skip! I’ve been wanting to talk to you!”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve been wanting to talk to you, too.” Skip looked upset as he sat down at the table. “Listen, Chris, about last night ...”

  “Oh, I’m sorry! I know I acted terribly, but I was desperate for a way to stall for time while Susan was helping Natasha sneak away, and—and you were the first excuse I could think of, and then the next thing I knew, there you were, and it seemed like the best way to keep Mr. Pirov from getting suspicious—”

  “Whoa, hold on!” Skip was smiling as he held up his hands. “Look, Chris, I realize all that—now. After all, I read the newspapers, too. But to tell you the truth, I felt pretty bad last night, after that little scene. I mean, there I was, trying to apologize for acting so stupid lately ...”

  “I know you were. And that’s why I feel so bad that I had to pretend you were giving me a hard time.”

  “At any rate, it’s all over now. That is, I’d like it to be. If you’re willing to accept my apology, that is, and give me another chance.”

  “Of course!” Chris breathed. “You know, Skip, I heard through the grapevine that things at your house haven’t been going too smoothly lately,” she added in a gentle voice.

  “Well, that may be the case, but that’s still no excuse for the way I’ve been acting. Especially around you, Chris. But the truth is, well, I’ve always thought you were kind of special, and I’m afraid I’ve never been very good at knowing how to act around girls....”

  ‘That’s okay. I know how it is.”

  “So you’re not mad at me?”

  “No, not anymore.”

  “And we can be friends?”

  “Sure!”

  “Great.” Skip looked so relieved, and so happy, that Chris’s heart went out to him. “Because lately, I’m afraid I’ve been making more enemies than friends.” He stood up then and said, “Well, I’d better go pack. Our bus leaves for the airport in half an hour. Before you know it, we’ll all be back in Whittington again. Back to the same old routine.”

  “Well, not quite the same,” Chris said. “After all, you and I will both have new friends now. We’ll have each other!”

  Chris was still smiling a minute or two later, after Skip had gone upstairs to get ready to leave. But the gentle smile on her lips was nothing compared to the huge grin on Susan’s face as she sat down at the table.

  “That was Mom on the phone,” she reported, looking as if she were ready to burst. “She was calling with some good news.”

  “So good that it couldn’t even wait a few hours until we get home this afternoon?” Chris couldn’t imagine what could possibly be so important.

  But the look on her sister’s face told her that it was important, indeed.

  “Mom and Dad got in late last night, after being out all day,” Susan went on to say. “And when they opened, up yesterday’s mail first thing this morning, they found an acceptance letter from the Morgan School of Art! I got in!”

  “Oh, Sooz! That’s fantastic!” Chris squealed, getting up and hugging her sister. “Congratulations! I’m so happy for you!”

  “Hey, hey, what’s all this?” asked Beth. She and Holly had just come down to breakfast, wanting to grab a quick bite before leaving for the airport.

  “Sooz just got some really good news,” Chris told them, beaming.

  “You mean international fame isn’t enough?” Holly teased.

  “This is even more meaningful,” said Susan. She was blushing slightly as she spoke. “I just heard that I’ve been accepted at art school, at the Morgan School of Art. I’ve wanted to go there ever since ... well, ever since I can remember, practically.”

  “That’s wonderful!” Beth cried.

  “Congratulations!” said Holly.

  After the excitement over Susan’s acceptance at art school had died down, Chris said, “While we’re talking about our futures, I have some good news, too.”

  Susan couldn’t help being curious. “Really, Chris? What’s that?”

  “Well, I’ve finally decided what I want to do when I grow up.”

  Holly, Beth, and Susan all had their eyes glued to Chris.

  “I’m going to be a lawyer.”

  “Chris!” Holly gasped. “That’s perfect! Why, I really think you’ve stumbled upon a career that’s just right for you. After all, you’re outgoing, and you get along well with people.”

  “You’re not bad when it comes to thinking on your feet, either.” Susan added with a chuckle.

  “And maybe being able to act a little bit isn’t such a bad skill for a lawyer to have,” Chris added, only half teasing.

  “But all that’s only part of it,” she went on more seriously. “I realized during this trip, during this whole episode with Natasha, that I’d really like to spend my life helping people protect their freedom. Being able to come through for Natasha meant so much to me....”

  “Well, I think it’s a great idea.” Susan’s dark eyes were glowing, largely because she was so proud of her twin sister.

  “Hey, what are you four up to?”

  Beth, Holly, and the twins looked up and saw Gary and Tim standing there.

  “Plotting any more international intrigues?” Gary joked.

  “Not exactly. As a matter of fact,” Susan said with a smile, “we’ve just been plotting our futures.”

  “Well, we’d better start pl
otting a way to get on that airport bus on time, or we’ll end up staying here in Washington forever,” said Tim.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t mind that,” Beth returned dreamily. “This is a wonderful place.”

  “Yes,” Chris agreed, standing up. “It is a wonderful place, and I had a fantastic time here in Washington, one that I’ll never forget. But now that I know where I’m headed, I’m anxious to get going!”

  Copyright © 1988 by Cynthia Blair

  Originally published by Fawcett Juniper (ISBN 978-0449702581

  Electronically published in 2015 by Belgrave House

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without permission of the publisher. For more information, contact Belgrave House, 190 Belgrave Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94117-4228

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  This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.