Part 1 (1/2)
Just Desserts.
Lyn Cash.
Dedication.
For Ann Wesley Hardin who told me I could do this and showed me how; The Belfry Collective who made certain I did it-especially Ann, Alexis Fleming, Gerrie Shepard, Catherine Berlin, Merry Stahel, Bronwyn Parry, and Christine Zubko who patiently critiqued me the most; and editor Nick Conrad who said ”welcome” and made my dream of publis.h.i.+ng with Ellora's Cave a reality.
Chapter One.
Pelican Point Summer Tea.
Ingredients:.
6 cups strong tea.
1 cup sugar (add to tea while tea is hot).
1012 ounces frozen lemonade.
1012 ounces water.
2 1/2 cups pineapple juice.
Mix, freeze, serve as a slush, garnish with maraschino cherry.
”Mr. Delacroix...” Marilyn felt her crotch grow wet just saying his name as she looked at the book jacket photo, imagining what it would be like to have the arrogant author's lips against hers.
”It's p.r.o.nounced 'Dell-uh-qwa', chere, but call me Jack, please.” The deep voice on the other end of the line was a nice, rich baritone, more than hinting of the owner's Creole roots.
”As I was saying,” Marilyn Mason O'Malley continued, ”as your new editor, I must insist that you accept this challenge. Cookbook authors from around the country will be entering this cooking contest. Surely, out of five best-selling books you can come up with at least one menu to compete with theirs!”
Jack hesitated before replying, ”I think it's wonderful that Larabee Industries has agreed to supply the cookware-I mean they're as synonymous with good cooking as Williams-Sonoma, but I still can't enter the contest! I gar-ahn-tee you my schedule won't permit it!”
You gar-ahn-tee? Momentarily distracted from the frustration, both s.e.xual and otherwise, building inside her, Marilyn bit down on the laugh that threatened to erupt as she listened to her client's Cajun-Creole-whatever the h.e.l.l South-of-the-Mason-Dixon-line accent he had.
”Mr.-Jack, I don't think you quite understand. Larabee is paying for everything! Larabee is one of your main sponsors. It's because of their backing that we've been able to keep printing your books! We are a small publis.h.i.+ng firm, and we rely on sponsors who help us produce and promote our nonfiction department! If you'd just agree to a few more spotlights! There's that Celebrity Chef television series in New York-you could enter one of their-”
”Absolutely not!”
”There's always local television programming. We've had hundreds of letters on your cookbook of home remedies for health!”
”There's simply no way,” Jack insisted.
”Then enter the Larabee Cook-Off-”
”Marilyn, again... I appreciate your position, but I must decline, chere. I have way too much to do here at home helping my brother run the family business. I simply cannot leave, not even for a week. I'm sorry.”
”But what about the telephone interview with your grandmother?” She pressed the issue. ”Surely, you can at least grant us that much...”
The click at the other end of the line made Marilyn stiffen her spine and stare at the phone as if it were a snake.
”You pompous river rat!” Marilyn slammed the phone down and slumped back into her chair. ”He hung up on me!”
Marketing director Colette Francis, who'd witnessed the New York half of the conversation while sitting opposite Marilyn, shook her head and returned her employer'
s worried look.
”I don't know what we can do about that one.” Colette winced sympathetically.
”Do? I'm going to lose my job before I've even had it a month! Even though this is a family business, Dad and Uncle Dave have told me, nail this guy down, or they'll drop either him or me! And he's making them money-so far I'm not!” She growled and gave an ironic laugh. ”I'm hopping on the next plane from New York to Oklahoma, and I'll force him into letting me interview his grandmother who gave him those recipes! I gar-ahn-tee it!” Marilyn tried shaking off his s.e.xy voice in her ear.
”But what about the cook-off?” Colette asked.
”I'll have one of our senior editors get hold of Larabee Industries. Surely there's a way to include our best cookbook author in their contest! We can't afford to offend our largest sponsor just because Mr. Delacroix wants to be such a prima donna!”
”What about Ben?” Colette drew out the name of Marilyn's fiance as she spoke. ”Don't you think he'll mind if you're gone next week?”
”s.h.i.+t. I forgot all about Ben's company banquet. He wanted to introduce me to his regional manager. d.a.m.n!” She picked up the telephone to call her fiance then cradled it, changing her mind. ”I'll work on Ben tonight.”
”And if he says he doesn't want you leaving town?”
”Then he'll just have to get over it. I'm not one of Ben's land holdings or oil wells or blue chip funds. He knows how important this job is to me.” Besides, she thought to herself, one good b.l.o.w.j.o.b and Ben was as good as putty in her hands.
Marilyn tapped her fingers against the back jacket copy of one of Jack's previous books, This Won't Hurt A Bit, her nails stabbing at the handsome author. If his face alone wasn't enough to shatter her self-confidence as his editor, his self-a.s.sured voice was the proverbial last straw. The man was insufferable! He could've made her job a lot easier if he'd just agreed to an interview, much less the cook-off sponsored by one of the country' s top manufacturers of cookware and kitchen aids.
The press would've eaten him up. Plus, Larabee Industries had been pus.h.i.+ng Birmingham and O'Malley Press to place Jackson Delacroix on the popular television show they'd sponsored for several years. It wasn't good enough that he endorsed their products in his books-they wanted higher visibility from the reclusive writer, and if Jack wouldn't give it to them, they'd soon find somebody who would.
”Men are so difficult,” Marilyn groaned. ”You're the marketing director who started this whole cookbook publis.h.i.+ng gig. What do you think?”
”I'll check under the part of his contract regarding Larabee products.” Colette pursed her lips. ”Hmm. Seems like he has to either mention them in his books so many times or on a television ad, of which he's done none.”
”Does Robert Neal have the same requirements as Jack?”
”When we first thought of adding cookbooks to our line, your uncle picked Robert, your dad picked Jack and both men received pretty much the same contract at first. Then as Jack's popularity grew, so did his advances and his perks...such as the Larabee endors.e.m.e.nts.”
Marilyn nodded. ”And with all of that, Dad and my uncle wound up being rivals over yet one more thing. I'd like to put a stop to this juvenile nonsense, so see what you can do.”
Colette touched her finger to her forehead in a mock salute. ”I'll be right back!”
Marilyn looked into the eyes of the man staring back at her from the book jacket, and her fingers traced the rough outline of his jaw and the sensuous lips that hinted of a sardonic curl. She took a sip of the slushy tea sitting on her desk, one of Jack's recipes in his latest book, and rolled the liquid in her mouth.