Four weeks after I'd placed my order, the boxes arrived. I had them delivered into the garage. I wasn't expecting them for at least another week, and I'd already had the shipping materials for when we got ordered sitting there. There were so many boxes! Our cars wouldn't fit into the garage and the motorbikes had disappeared somewhere behind all the boxes.

Luckily Ella was there to see me panic. "Why don't you set the shipping materials up in the dining room?" she suggested. I guess she noticed that there was never any signs of use in there. It was a good suggestion though – I had thought I'd set up in my office but that would mean taking everything upstairs.

I decided to get organised, and put the shipping materials out on the table so it would be easy to pack, and then I decided to haul up a box of each kind of bra into the dining room and opened them up. I did a happy dance. They were just like the samples, exactly as they should be, and I was so excited that I hugged them.

I called Ella in to have a look at them too.

"Oh Stephanie, the material is beautiful," Ella said. "It's so soft and lovely."

I skipped upstairs to update the website. With our stock in, we were officially open for business!

A few days later I was distracting myself from the lack of hits on the website by going for a walk to the deli when I heard a ping on my phone that meant I had a new email. I opened it up to read. An order! My first order! Then I saw the address. Val. I called her.

"Val, you don't have to buy bras from me. It's not that bad," I said.

"They're a gift for a friend who is having a baby shower soon," Val said. "I know that she is going to love them. I didn't want to ask you to just send me one when you're just getting started out."

"Aww Val, thank you."

It was sweet of her to do that. I bought my lunch from the deli, then went back home to package up my first order. I decided to drive to the post office to drop off the package, then continued on to my parents' house to show my mom and Grandma what we had produced.

Dickie had started his new job a few weeks ago and I knew there was little chance that he'd be home in time for dinner, so I figured I'd hang out with my parents and Grandma for a few hours, mooch dinner off them, then head home. Unfortunately the reaction to my product line didn't go quite as planned.

"Stephanie Plum! Don't put underwear on the table!"

"Relax, ma, it's not used. This is brand new, just delivered."

"What will the neighbours think if they saw underwear on our table?"

"That your daughter has a lingerie company and she's showing you her first product line and would like you to pay attention?"

My mother was perplexed. Having a daughter who was an entrepreneur would be a bragging point if all went well. On the other hand, there were bras on the table. Potential pride won out and she hugged me. "I'm so proud of you, Stephanie. They look perfect."

"Thanks mom."

Grandma looked thoughtfully at the lingerie. "I wish they'd had these when I was younger. This purple one would have lightened things up between your grandfather and me," she said. My mother sighed and looked wistfully at the ironing board.

"Will you come to church with us on Sunday?" my mother asked.

"I, uh, think that I might be busy," I said. My mother sighed again, this time a long suffering sigh.

"Will you come for lunch at least? Bring Dickie. We haven't seen him for a while. I want to hear how his new job is going," my mother said. Well, I could at least do that.

Dickie was less than enthusiastic about Sunday lunch with my parents and tried to claim that he needed to work. Nice try. I told him that at least he wasn't expected to attend church, reminded him that I'd gone to his parents for dinner last month WITHOUT HIM due to a work emergency, and then implied that keeping his wife happy might lead to him being happy in other areas of his life.

He sighed, got into his car, and asked if we needed to stop at the bakery first. "If your Grandma tries to cop a feel I'm faking a work emergency," he said, starting up the car.

"Fair enough."

I was coming out of Giovinnchi's with the cold cuts that my mother asked me to pick up for Sunday lunch when I ran smacked into someone.

"Oof!"

"Hello Steph. I haven't seen you in a long time," Morelli said. He'd only gotten better looking as he grew older. He had a new scar over his eye and I'd heard rumours of a tattoo from his time in the Navy. He was taller than Dickie and from the way I bounced back off him, solid too.

"Hey Joe. I'm glad you're not in jail." Smooth, Steph, real smooth.

"Me too. Well, nice seeing you cupcake, but I've got to go," he said, moving away.

"Yeah. Me too. If I'm late for lunch there's going to be trouble."

"I didn't see you in the church this morning," he said.

"Funny, I didn't see you in church this morning either," I told him. I knew a bluff when I heard one. Also who said we were talking about the same churches.

"I heard you're selling women's underwear now," Morelli said, changing the subject. He had a glint in his eye that I knew well.

"I've been selling underwear for years, Morelli, I was a lingerie buyer. I've started up a maternity wear lingerie line," I told him. He looked like he was going to respond, then thought better of it and started walking away. Stupid Morelli.

Dickie beeped the horn and gestured for me to hurry up. Men. They all needed to be less annoying.

Lunch went well. My father ignored everyone and read the paper. Grandma updated us on the latest Burg gossip that she'd heard at church. And my mother surprised me by asking how my sales were going.

"Not that great," I said, "so far they're all to people that I know. They all say that they love them, but I need to find a way of getting the product out there. Our marketing team used to make this look so easy, but it's hard with an unknown brand and product."

"I've told Steph not to worry," Dickie said, "I'm here to support here no matter what she chooses. If this doesn't work out, the housewife life is a good option." He reached over to squeeze my hand.

I rolled my eyes. I wouldn't be a good fit as a housewife.

"It's good for a woman to keep her options open and have other interests," my mother said, fixing Dickie with a thin smiled look that for a Burg housewife bordered on outright hostility towards a guest, even if that guest was her son-in-law. "So, Dickie, how is your new job? I've heard interesting things."

I saw Dickie twitch. "It's going well, so far. It's a change from working for the DA, so I'm adjusting to that. But the extra money is good. I'm thinking of upgrading our cars. How would you like a Mercedes, Steph?"

"Uh… what's wrong with my Honda?"

"Nothing! I just thought you'd like an upgrade. I thought with my new job we both deserved something a bit higher in status. I might check out some dealers next weekend," Dickie said.

"You should buy American!" my father said, suddenly snapping into the conversation. "Get a Ford at least. That's what's wrong with this country, everyone buying foreign cars."

"I'd like a convertible," Grandma said, "I think that would help me land a man, if I had a convertible."

My mother got up to clear the table and took the plates into the kitchen. I took the leftover food in after her, and started putting it away in the fridge.

"What was that earlier? That you've heard interesting things about Dickie?" I asked my mother.

"Oh, nothing, dear. Just asking Dickie how his job is. Would you like some cake? Here, take this to the table," my mother said, handing me fresh plates and cutlery.

Hmmm.

We ate our cake quickly, then said goodbye and left. Duty done.

"Do you want to look at cars on the way home?" Dickie asked me. "Mercedes, Audi or BMW?"

"Just like that?" I asked him.

"We can afford it. I want to buy you something nice. You deserve something for working so hard," Dickie said, squeezing my hand.

I was suspicious. There had to be a catch to this.

"And, ah, I forgot to tell you before – I need to go to Chicago for work for a few weeks. Will you be okay without me?"

"Yeah, I'll be okay. The house will be quiet though. What do you need to travel for?"

"Client confidentiality," Dickie said, smiling at me. "I need to look into something. Like a glorified private investigator, but they're paying me for it. Gotta keep the clients happy."

Well, a new car, and a couple of weeks on my own. Life could be worse, I guess.

A few days after Dickie had left on his work trip, Grandma rang me. "I need a ride to Moogey Bues viewing. Your mother says I can't go because she's a stick in the mud. Will you take me?"

"What happened to Moogey Bues?"

"He was shot! Again. I heard it made a real mess. Stiva must have done some real craftsmanship on that one."

Hmmm. A night out at a funeral home or a night in alone. I know what I'd prefer to do, but time to be a good granddaughter.

"What time do you need me there?"

Stiva's was packed when we got there, and we had to park down a block. Grandma was having a great time as soon as we went through the door. I remembered what my mother had told me and tried to keep an eye on her. She was trouble, but I hoped that she couldn't get into much mischief in a funeral home.

"I hear that Stiva had to do some real work on this one," said Grandma. "So many bullet holes to patch up. It's going to be some real craftsmanship."

"I don't think it's going to be open casket," I told Grandma.

"Well that's just no fun. We come out all this way, the least they can do is give us a look. Maybe the lid will come undone."

"No! No lid coming undone. Mom will ban me from dessert if you don't behave."

We walked inside together and Grandma disappeared off into the crowd to chat with her friends and hit on old men. I headed for the cookie table. Since I was probably going to be banned from dessert at my parent's, I needed to stock up now. The cookies weren't as good as Ella's, but a cookie is a cookie.

I could feel eyes on me and looked around the room. I waved to Morelli who was standing against one wall and made my way across to him. He was wary, gaze flickering around the room.

"It's funny, I was just thinking of you," he said to me.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Yeah. It's going to rain. I often think of you when it's going to rain."

"You deserved it," I told him.

"Yeah, probably. An accident with a Buick is the least of what I deserve," he said. A bad boy with a hidden and not-so-hidden past. Be still my heart. Quick, change the subject.

"You're not looking too relaxed," I said to him

"It's a funeral. Why should I be relaxed?"

"There's cookies. Choc chip this time. Better than raisin," I said, raising one up to show him. "This one is mine though."

"I prefer cupcakes," he told me, putting a slight leer into his eyes.

"You're a pig, Morelli. No manners." I looked around the room and saw someone on the opposite wall watching us. Male, dressed in black, with hair pulled back into a pony tail. No one I had seen around The Burg before. I would remember someone who looked like that. He noticed that I had seen him watching us and inclined his head slightly so I smiled and gave him a finger wave.

"Who's your friend over there?" I asked Morelli.

"Not my friend."

"He looks like he knows you."

"He's Vinnie's bounty hunter, the one that refused to bring me in. I owe him."

"He works for Vinnie?" Ew. Vinnie germs.

"Among other things. Stay away from that one, cupcake."

"Among other things. Way to make him sound all mysterious. I heard that he uncovered the evidence that cleared your name," I told Joe.

"Don't give him too much credit," Joe told me.

"Anyway, I'm married, remember?" I held up my hand, showing off my wedding rings. I needed to find Grandma. She'd been on her own for long enough and was probably about to get into trouble. Just then I heard screaming. Uh oh!

I made my way into the room to find Grandma being ushered out by Stiva.

"It was an accident! My sleeve caught on the lid! And anyway, a closed coffin viewing is just bad manners. How are we supposed to know who is really in there?" Grandma said. Stiva had his undertakers smile on but it looked forced. I grabbed on to her arm.

"Come on, Grandma, it's time that we go. Bye everyone," I said, steering her out towards the door. I finger waved to Joe as we went past and he winked.

There was no chocolate pudding in my future.

By the time I got Grandma into the car and we pulled up outside the house, my mother was waiting in the doorway, arms crossed, looking unhappy. She must have gotten a phone call already. The Burg grapevine works fast. Definitely no chocolate pudding for me.