Every Trick in the Book (35 page)

I cleared my throat and began. “I set up this meeting because the day after tomorrow,
the Taste of the Town festival begins in Inspiration Valley. As you know, our agency’s
portion of the festival, Books and Cooks, commences at the same time. And I wanted
to ensure that everything is in place so that it all runs smoothly.” Pointing at the
chart on the whiteboard, I continued. “If I could get your status on the areas for
which you are each responsible, we can move on from there.”

Vicky, the office manager, spoke first. With her ramrod-straight posture and direct
approach, she gave the impression that she was much taller than a mere five feet.
Straightening her blue-rimmed glasses, she began. “I’ve booked rooms for all of our
celebrity guests and their
entourages at the Magnolia Bed and Breakfast, although a few of the underlings have
rooms at Bertram’s Hotel.”

“It’s a good thing our Bertram’s Hotel isn’t like the one in the Agatha Christie story,”
Zach interrupted. He waggled his eyebrows. “If it were, we’d be sending those people
straight into a group of criminals.”

Jude chuckled. Vicky stared at Zach for a brief minute, and then continued. “I made
sure that Klara Patrick’s room is on an entirely different floor from Doug Corby,
Leslie Sterling, and Charlene Jacques.”

“Hoo boy, that was smart, Vicky!” exclaimed Zach. “The Magnolia B and B would see
some fireworks if they were sleeping down the hall from Chef Klara.”

“Whatever do you mean, Zach?” Bentley asked. “Aren’t they all professionals?”

“Supposedly, but Klara is always undermining the other chefs, especially Charlene
Jacques, who has a show on the same network. And the food critic, Doug Corby, wrote
a scathing review of a meal Chef Klara prepared for the Food Fair in Baltimore last
month.” He feigned a throat cutting motion with his pointer finger. “Talk about the
pen being mightier than the sword. Ouch!”

“I remember that review.” Flora leaned forward on the table. “He called her veal ‘leatherlike’
and her sauce ‘as heavy as cement.’ Said he wouldn’t feed her dish to a stray dog.
Created quite an uproar at that food fair.”

Bentley frowned. “Well, let’s hope these people can manage to control their animosity
toward each other at our events. Carry on, Lila.”

I scanned my notes. “Vicky, will the chefs all be here for the tour and Bentley’s
catered supper tomorrow? Have you confirmed the pickup arrangements?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “Klara and her people are driving up in their limo, and three of
the chefs are coming in on the train tomorrow. Doug Corby will be on the Inspiration
Express on Friday morning. The television crew for Klara’s TV show arrived earlier
this week to set up.”

“Speaking of which,” Zach interrupted, “the setup crew made some trouble about the
stove at the Arts Center. It was wired for electric but not for gas, and several of
the chefs, including Chef Klara, insist on cooking
only
with gas. So to keep the culinary kings and queens happy, we piped it in. That cost
a wad of dough.” He rubbed his thumb over his fingertips. “Lila, can we bill Klara’s
company for that?”

I shook my head. “I doubt it. And I can certainly understand a chef preferring a gas
stove to electric. Especially one as talented as Chef Klara. I find the heat on a
gas stove easier to control. Franklin, is everything in place for the release party
for Klara’s new cookbook?”

Franklin stroked his hand over the dome of his head. “Sure is. It will kick off after
the filming of the television show. There’ll be delectable food for people to sample
and a display table for her new cookbook as well. She can sign books for her fans
for as long as she likes.”

“That’s not to be confused with the signings scheduled at the Constant Reader,” Jude
interjected.

Franklin shook his head. “No, those are separate. Although Klara expressed a desire
to do a signing at the Constant Reader after her panel on Saturday morning. Can we
schedule that in, Lila?” At my nod, Franklin continued. “The Cooks and Books chef
signing session on Saturday afternoon at the Arts Center is for all the chefs other
than Klara, and their latest cookbooks. The other Constant
Reader signings are for books about food, but not necessarily cookbooks.”

“Like Doug Corby’s
A Foodie’s Diary: Meals Worth Remembering (and some not so much)
,” Vicky said. “I found that an intriguing read.”

Flora giggled. “That man can be nasty,” she said. “In a funny kind of way.”

“I just hope Joel Lang’s new Asian Fusion cookbook won’t be too overshadowed by all
the focus on Klara.” Franklin sighed. “It releases the same day, you know. I don’t
know why publishers do that.”

Zach vigorously shook his head. “No way, man. There’s been as much buzz about his
cookbook on TV as Klara’s. He’s booked solid on the area morning shows for the next
couple of weeks. Even with all of the prepublication hype Klara’s been getting, Joel
will still be a very popular dude. He might even steal her limelight.”

Franklin raised his eyebrows. “Nobody needs to steal anyone’s limelight, Zach. We
want the pair of them to do well. They’re both clients of Novel Idea, remember.”

“Then let’s get two clients on the
New York Times
list at once.” Zach snapped his fingers in sequence. “Batta bing.”

“How about your ‘Food in Children’s Literature’ session, Flora?” I asked after I’d
updated the whiteboard data. “Is that on track?”

“Yes, dear, it certainly is. It should be a tasty exhibition, to be sure. Ed from
Catcher in the Rye and Nell from Sixpence Bakery helped with the sample list. Even
How Green Was My Valley got on board. Let’s see.” She perused her notes. “On the menu,
we have Stone Soup from the famous folktale, Marilla’s Raspberry Cordial from
Anne of Green
Gables
, Pippi’s pancakes from
Pippi Longstocking
, Dr. Seuss’s green eggs and ham—”

“Whoa! How are they making those eggs green?” Zach interjected, cutting short her
recitation.

Flora’s cheeks flushed pink. “I’m not exactly sure, Zach. We’ll have to ask the chef.
Should I continue?”

“Let’s leave the rest for us to discover at the event, Flora. It all sounds great.”
I glanced at the chart. “That about covers it, except for the short story contest,
‘Stories about Food.’ The deadline is Thursday, but I’ve already received several
submissions. Jude and Bentley, do you want me to give them to you now or shall I wait
until after the deadline, when we have all the entries?”

“Give them to me now,” Bentley replied. “So I can get started.”

Jude nodded. “Me, too.”

“Okay. Thanks for volunteering to be judges for the contest, by the way. It takes
some of the pressure off me.”

Bentley inclined her head in acknowledgment.

“My pleasure,” Jude said. “There’s always a chance we’ll find a gem.”

“Everything is set for the banquet as well.” I passed pages around the table. “Here
is the menu. And thanks for all your suggestions on which literary foods we should
serve.”

“Sweet!” Zach hit the table with gusto. “My suggestion to add the clam chowder from
Moby Dick
was picked as the first course! The Zachmeister rules.”

“I’m glad, too,” Franklin said. “I love a good clam chowder. But I’m surprised you’ve
read Melville’s masterpiece thoroughly enough to remember that soup,” he added with
a twinkle in his eye.

Zach leaned forward. “Are you kidding? I
love
that book. Melville goes on and on for almost a whole chapter about that chowder.”

“Ahem,” Bentley interceded. “Back to the banquet?”

I shot Bentley a grateful smile. “We have ballots for people to guess what literary
works they believe each menu item is from, and there will be door prizes, too. Should
be a great evening.” I looked around the table. “Other than that, we’re good to go.
The first wave of chefs arrives tomorrow and then Taste of the Town, and our Books
and Cooks will be under way.”

“Well, Lila, you seem to have everything under control,” Bentley said, gathering her
papers together. “Let’s hope that these capricious cooks behave themselves. After
all, we’ve filled the Arts Center kitchen with an array of very sharp knives.”