"You beat the clock by thirteen seconds," she said.

"Then cheer up. In honor of my quickness, we'll get a dessert to celebrate."

"I'm feeling better already," she said. "Do you mind if I drive?"

"You're not a big fan of my Jeep, are you?"

She shrugged. "It's fine sometimes, but I like riding in my BMW better."

"Fine, if you're willing to drive, I'm willing to ride in your fancy car."

As we drove to Union Square--a town thirty minutes away from April Springs--Grace asked, "So, are you excited about the big event tomorrow?"

"I am, but it's tempered with equal parts of nervousness and anxiety. The kitchen home tour is a pretty big deal."

"You're telling me. Don't forget why you're doing it."

"I know, it's a favor for a friend."

She shook her head. "I mean the bigger reason. It should raise a lot of money for the town. At first I thought twenty dollars a ticket was a little high for April Springs, but from what I've heard, the tour's almost sold out for the first weekend."

"I didn't need to hear that," I said. "I'm jittery enough as it is."

"Suzanne, you make the best donuts in our part of North Carolina. I'm sure whatever you make will be wonderful."

I started to tell her beignets were on the menu first, but she stopped me. "Don't say another word. I want to be surprised when I walk into Marge's kitchen next weekend. She must be an absolute wreck. Marge Rankin isn't exactly the socializing kind, is she?"

"She's trying. This is her way of coming out into April Springs society now that she's inherited some money. To be honest with you, I think she used the idea of a kitchen tour as an excuse to gut her old layout and replace everything. It's absolutely stunning now," I said.

"I'm excited to see it," Grace said. "I won't be able to come this weekend, though. I've got a quick trip for business I have to make, and I'm leaving first thing in the morning."

"Another one of those resort sales meetings?" I asked.

She smiled as she explained, "I can't help it if they're mandatory. We're going to the beach, and I don't play golf, so after the meeting, I plan to do a little shopping."

"I wish I could come with you."

"You know you're always welcome," she said, "if you can ever leave that shop of yours."

After a few minutes, Grace glanced over at me and asked, "So, is Peg Masterson driving you crazy?"

I laughed. "Are you kidding? She thinks I'm unworthy to be demonstrating on the tour, so she keeps checking with me to see if I'm ready to drop out. I wouldn't give that nosy old biddy the satisfaction."

"Good for you," Grace said.

As she pulled into Napoli's parking lot in Union Square, she said, "Stand your ground with her, Suzanne. If Peg is at Marge's place first thing, don't take any guff from her."

"Easier said than done, don't you think? Maybe I'll bring her a plate of lemon-filled donuts to keep her off my back. She can't resist those." I took a deep breath, then added, "Let's talk about something more pleasant. Are you ready to have dinner?"

"You bet," Grace said as we got out and walked to the restaurant.

I'd expected the place to be nearly empty, as was almost always the case when I ate there, but I was surprised to find the vestibule jammed with diners waiting for a table.

"Should we go somewhere else?" Grace asked as she looked at the crowd. "I know how tight your schedule is."

"Maybe we should," I said as I started to back out of the door.

Angelica DeAngelis--the proprietress and matriarch of her four-daughter staff--saw me before I could get away.

"Excuse me, people, I need to get through," she said as she made her way through the crowd toward us. "Suzanne, your table is ready."

That was a neat trick, since I hadn't called for a reservation, and she had no idea we were coming.

An older man with bushy gray eyebrows that threatened to take over his face, said, "Hey, we were here first."

"But you failed to call ahead for a reservation, didn't you?" she said, clicking her tongue at him.

"We didn't think we'd need to this time of day," he grumbled.

"Then apparently, you were wrong," Angelica said as she led us through the mass of people.

Once we were past the cashier's station, I was surprised to see that the tables in the dining room were mostly empty.

I frowned at her as I said, "Angelica, you know you didn't have to show us preferential treatment."

She beamed at me as she said, "I don't have to do anything I don't want to, do I? It's my place, after all, isn't it?"

Grace said, "Suzanne, don't argue with the nice lady who's going to feed us."

Angelica smiled at her. "There's the voice of reason I've been hoping for."

I touched the owner's shoulder lightly. "I don't want you to lose any of your customers on my account."

She laughed bitterly. "Are you kidding me? One of my brilliant daughters who shall remain nameless decided we needed a promotional gimmick for our early hours. She offered a twenty-five-percent discount before six PM in our April Springs Sentinel ad, and this is what we get for it."

"I must have missed it," I said.

"I wish they had," she said as she gestured to the waiting area. "We're not making a dime on it, and I doubt many of these folks are going to be long-term customers."

"How long are you going to keep them waiting?" I asked.

"I'm tempted to wait until six," she said. "But I won't." As she walked back to the front, she said, "I'll send Maria to your table, but don't tarry over the menu. Things are going to be crazy pretty soon."

"We won't," I promised.

Maria came by thirty seconds later, with a rueful smile. "Hello, ladies. What can I get for you tonight?"

"Oh, dear," I said. "Let me guess. The ad was your idea."

She nodded briefly. "I thought it was a good plan at the time."

I patted her hand. "Don't worry, you'll be able to handle all of them."

"The crowd isn't what I'm worried about," she said. "It's my mother I'm concerned about. She's got a way of hanging onto things like this."

"It's in the rulebook they get when they have us," I said.

"I'd like to get my hands on a copy," she said. "But no time soon," Maria added when she realized what that implied.

After we ordered, Angelica led the crowd in, depositing diners as she moved through the room. She'd tried to leave us with as much space as she could, but it still felt claustrophobic having so many other people around us.

"So, is this what eating out is usually like?" I asked after Maria brought us our water and a carafe of house red wine.

"It's not that bad," Grace said. "In fact, some folks actually like being around other people."

"To each his own, I suppose," I said.

Grace took a sip of wine, then said, "So, tell me about the tour. Can you believe Peg and Marge are actually working together on something? I thought their feud would last forever."

"I'm not even certain they remember why they're fighting anymore," I said.

"Well, they've buried the hatchet, at least for the duration of the tour." Grace ate a small bite of bread, then added, "Should we talk about your love life?"

"Jake and I are fine, though I don't get to see him nearly enough. Why don't we talk about yours, instead?"

"I'm afraid it would be a pretty dull story. What is wrong with the men around here, and why can't they see how much I have to offer?"

I said softly, "I think they're all just a little bit crazy, Jake included."

Grace laughed so hard she garnered the attention of some of the other diners, but we didn't care. It was good being out with my friend.

Grace said, "Enough about my love life, or lack of one. Can we talk about something else?"

"Sure. Why don't we talk about him?" I asked as I pointed behind her with the breadstick in my hand to a man who'd just walked in. It was the mysterious customer who'd come into the donut shop earlier that day.

She turned to see who I was talking about, and he must have noticed the attention.

Our eyes met for just an instant, and he smiled broadly at me before placing a to-go order with Angelica.

When I looked back at Grace, she was frowning at me. "Suzanne Hart, what have you been up to?"

"What?" I asked, as innocently as I could muster.

"You've been holding out on me," she said as our food arrived. "I saw the way you two just looked at each other."

I smiled at Maria as she approached with plates of food for us. "Look, Grace, it's time to eat."

I reached for my fork, and Grace grabbed my arm. "Not one bite until you tell me who he is."

I laughed first, then I admitted, "He came by the donut shop for coffee this morning. That's all I know. I swear. He looks familiar, but I can't for the life of me figure out where I've seen him before."

She looked into my eyes and could see I was telling the truth. "He seemed pretty interested in you."

"Not enough to come over to our table and say hello," I said, dismissing the idea. "Now can I have that hand back? I'm hungry, and my lasagna's getting cold."

She released me, and as I took that first heavenly bite, I couldn't help wondering how the mystery man had managed to show up in my life twice in the same day, and why I couldn't remember when I'd met him before. I had a nagging feeling that our paths had crossed in the past, but I was no closer to knowing when that might have been than earlier that day.

For now, it was just going to have to remain a mystery.

I didn't have time for mysteries at the moment, though.

Tomorrow would arrive soon enough, and I had a feeling I was going to have my hands full with my stop on the kitchen tour.

I just didn't realize how true that feeling was about to be.

SUZANNE'S BASIC BEIGNETS.

WITH A TWIST.

A flaky, delicious, and classy take on the normal everyday donut. These take a little longer to prepare, but they are well worth the time and effort! Some folks think they're reminiscent of funnel cakes, but it's a completely different taste and texture. While they might not technically be the classic New Orleans style of beignet, Suzanne likes them, and so does my family!

INGREDIENTS.

* 2 packets active dry yeast (1/2 oz. total) * 11/2 cups warm water * 1/2 cup white sugar * 1/2 teaspoon salt * 2 eggs * 1 cup evaporated milk * 6-7 cups all-purpose flour * 1/4 cup shortening * 1/4 cup confectioners' sugar * Frying oil, 360 degrees F.

DIRECTIONS.

Dissolve the yeast in warm water, then add the sugar, salt, eggs, and evaporated milk, and stir it all together thoroughly.

Mix in about half of the flour and beat the mixture again until smooth.

Add the shortening, and then the remaining 3 cups of flour. I like to break with tradition here and add enough flour to work lightly on a board, adding a little oil if the dough gets too dry.

Cover the dough and chill it for at least an hour, but you can wait until the next day if you'd like, though be warned, it will keep raising and might take on a life of its own.

Roll out the dough 1/4- to -inch thick. Cut it into squares 21/2 to 3 inches. Though it's not the traditional shape, I like to use my ravioli cutter to make rounds.

Fry them in hot oil for two minutes on each side, or until they're done, then dust with confectioner's sugar and eat. I like these best served warm. You can also add fillings like jam or pudding to these, but my family likes them plain.

Yield: 3-4 dozen