Menu for Romance, page 11
This seemed to please everyone, and Meredith herded them back to the elevator.
“Are we still on for two o’clock tomorrow afternoon?” Anne asked, slowly bringing up the rear of the group.
“Yeah.” Major frowned. Something was definitely wrong with Meredith. Was she afraid he was going to ask her about her date Friday? “I’ll bring the cost analyses for the menus we talked about.”
Anne nodded. “All right. I’ll see you then.” She glanced over her shoulder at Meredith, who was engrossed in listening to something one of the grandmothers said. “Yes, we have a lot to talk about.” The elevator whisked her away before Major could ask her to clarify that last statement.
Shaking his head, he went back to the kitchen. Steven and Jana came out of his office laughing, though their amusement died as soon as they saw him.
“Great interview, Chef.” Steven smirked.
Jana elbowed Steven hard enough to send him off balance. “It was a good interview. But why didn’t you tell us you’re starting a restaurant?”
Major groaned. So much for asking Alaine not to include that part in what she aired. “It’s not a done deal. I’m still thinking about it.”
“What’s to think about?” Jana’s eyes widened. “Chef, it’s a great opportunity. You’d be wonderful at running a restaurant. And there are a lot of folks here who’d love to work in a restaurant owned by you.”
Major studied Steven’s face. Was his second in command thinking about the day when he’d be running this kitchen? A chill ran down Major’s spine at the thought. Though Steven was a good chef, his people-management skills left a lot to be desired.
He looked back at Jana. In a restaurant environment, she could make three or four times as much money as she did working this lunch service every day. Everyone in the industry knew that people didn’t spend as much or tip as well at lunch as they did for supper—even when ordering off the same menu. Yes, he would definitely take Jana with him.
“As I said, nothing has been decided yet. Believe me, when the decision is made, y’all will be amongst the first to know.” He stepped aside. “Now, please get back to work so I don’t have to fire you for slacking off.”
Sitting at his desk, Major stared at the blank TV screen, wondering if he really wanted to watch the recording of the program when he got home tonight. Just what had he gotten himself into, agreeing to appear on television? Not just the interview, but every week. Would the potential for publicity really be worth the public humiliation?
* * *
“Hey. I’m not late am I?”
Meredith jumped at Major’s voice, her pen striking a blue mark across the page before her. “N–no. I’m just making a list of everything we need to get done today.”
A soft smile hinted at his dimples; Meredith ignored her squirmy stomach—just as she tried to ignore the fact that the dark green shirt he wore made his eyes a vivid violet-blue.
“So, what’s on the agenda?”
What? Oh, right. Meeting. “Hearts to HEARTS: menu and final food budget, staffing requirements, space planning...” She let her voice drift when her mother appeared in the doorway.
“Oh good, Major, you’re here already. Would you both step into my office?”
“Of course.” Meredith glanced at Major, who looked as if he shared her confusion. She took her pen and legal pad with her. At the threshold to her mother’s elaborate office, Meredith hesitated, and Major bumped into her.
One of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen sat in front of her mother’s desk. Black hair lay tumbled in voluptuous curls around the woman’s shoulders—the kind of curls Meredith had prayed for every time she’d subjected her own poor fine, limp hair to perms back in her teens.
Pushing envy aside, she slapped a smile on, armed herself with professional confidence, and strode into the office. The woman stood and extended her right hand.
“Alaine Delacroix,” Mom said, beginning the introduction, “this is Meredith Guidry, our executive director of events and facilities.”
“It’s very nice to meet you.” The name clicked in Meredith’s memory. “Alaine Delacroix—from Channel Six?”
Perfect, full lips parted to reveal dazzling white teeth. “Yes. It’s nice to meet you, too. I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you—about how you’re practically a miracle worker when it comes to planning these social events everyone wants to attend.”
Dreaded heat tingled in Meredith’s cheeks. She hated that compliments still made her blush at her age.
Alaine looked over Meredith’s shoulder, and her nearly black eyes sparkled like diamond-studded onyx. “Hello, Chef.”
Meredith’s heart crashed into an iceberg and succumbed to hypothermia. Stepping aside, she avoided looking at Major, not wanting to see the drool hanging from his mouth at the reporter’s overly warm greeting. She followed her mother to the table and sat.
Ever the gentleman, Major waited to sit until all three ladies had taken their places.
“Alaine is here”—Mom looked from Major to Meredith—“because she has come up with an idea that I’m really excited about. Alaine, why don’t you explain it?”
“I’d be happy to, Mrs. Guidry.”
“Oh, please, it’s Mairee.”
Alaine’s smile beamed at Mom. Meredith thought she might be ill. She could handle when her mom turned on the fake charm for gold key clients. But she wasn’t sure she could stomach these two women fawning over each other.
“The idea actually came to me because of meeting you, Chef O’Hara.” The dark eyes twinkled at Major again. “I thought it would be a good idea to create a news special on all of the planning that goes into the Hearts to HEARTS banquet. Kind of like the shows they do on the food channel—but not just about the food. About everything that goes into the event.”
“That’s where you come in, Meredith.” Mom leaned forward, more excited than she’d been when Meredith landed the contract for Senator Kyler’s inauguration ball. “Alaine is going to set up a time to talk to you so you can explain everything you’ve already done. And she’s brought her cameraman with her today so that they can observe your planning meeting.”
Meredith balled her hands together in her lap and tried to maintain a neutral expression. “I’ll do whatever I can to help.” A reporter following her around, scrutinizing every decision she made? Great. Just great.
“Now, Major, the other part involves you,” Mom continued. “Alaine is to be given access to the kitchen during the week before the event so she can get footage of y’all making everything, so you’ll need to let her know that schedule. Oh, and you two still need to work out the schedule for the weekly cooking segment on her program.”
Meredith swallowed hard, gritting her teeth against the desire to ask why she’d ever been made an executive director if Mom and Dad were going to continue making these kinds of decisions without consulting her. Meredith was beginning to believe Anne hadn’t been completely honest about why she’d decided to leave B-G and start her own business.
“Major, if you can come back when you and Meredith finish your meeting, we’ll discuss the details.” Mom placed her palms flat on the tabletop and stood. “I know you have a lot of work to do, so I’ll let you get to it. Alaine, Major, if you’ll go ahead, I need a few words with Meredith.”
Partially out of her chair, Meredith sank back into it, pulse thudding. Had she not done a good enough job hiding her reactions to her mother’s pronouncements?
Mom made sure the door closed firmly behind Alaine and Major before rejoining Meredith at the table. “I have a couple of questions now that I’ve had time to dig into your report.” She flipped open her thick planner.
Meredith cringed. If Mom took the time to write everything down, this would be no quick chat.
“First, you sort of glazed over this in our meeting earlier, but the final financial report ... I noticed the expenditure was nearly twenty percent below last year’s. What happened?”
Any other employer would have been praising Meredith for saving the company money, not questioning her as if she’d done something wrong. “I spent a lot more time this year negotiating rates and working out trade agreements.”
“No cutting corners anywhere? Nothing that takes advantage of anyone?”
Disbelief and shock pulled at Meredith’s bottom jaw, and she stared at her mother. “I would never compromise my integrity—nor B-G’s—like that.”
“Calm down. I’m not saying you did. I was just confused by how the final number could have been that much lower.” Mom looked back down at her list, asked about some of the complaints detailed in the report: valet parking attendants too slow; tables bussed too fast; band too loud; lights too dim—“Pretty much the same complaints as at every event, so just keep working on that.”
Same complaints ... probably by the same people. Meredith scrawled something illegible on her notepad as if taking it seriously.
Mom studied her notes for a moment then closed the planner. “It’s come to my attention that you’ve been keeping something from me.”
Ward. Of course. The receptionists had no doubt blabbed about his coming here to pick her up. She hated the idea that her personal life was fodder for watercooler gossip around the office. But she also knew her mother’s way of getting information out of people. “What are you talking about?”
“Jenn told me you’ve hired a contractor for your house.”
Defensive words gathered in a ball in the back of Meredith’s throat. “What? Oh, yeah—well, I haven’t officially hired him. I ran into him at the hardware store last Monday and asked for a bid.”
“I can’t tell you what a relief that is to me.” Mom smiled—the first real smile she’d shown since Meredith entered the room. “I probably haven’t told you, but the only reason I counseled you against buying that house is because I thought you would be stubborn and insist on doing everything yourself. I can’t wait to see it when it’s finished.”
Relief tripped up Meredith’s thoughts. “Thanks, Mom.”
“You’re welcome. Now, best not keep Alaine and Major waiting any longer.”
“Right.” Meredith took her notepad and returned to her own office, smiling. But her good mood vanished as soon as she walked in. Alaine sat in Meredith’s regular place at the table, having what looked like an intimate conversation with Major.
“How’s that? Can you see both of our faces?” Alaine asked.
The guy behind the camera gave a thumbs-up, and Alaine stood.
“Oh, Meredith, I didn’t hear you come in. We’re ready to get started whenever you are.” Alaine waved Meredith toward the table. Toward Meredith’s table in Meredith’s office.
Meredith turned around, pretending to look for something on her desk. She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, reaching as far down inside as she could to draw upon whatever confidence she could find in this situation. She couldn’t let this woman’s beauty and command of the situation rob her of what little professionalism she had left. She caught sight of the tube of her favorite tinted lip balm next to her phone and quickly swiped a little on.
“We’re mostly here to get footage of you two working together. That will become part of a montage with a voice-over, most likely. Meredith, if you don’t mind, after you’re finished, I’d love to do an on-camera interview with you to get caught up on everything you’ve already done.”
“I don’t mind.” Good. Her voice hadn’t sounded as if she’d been inhaling helium. She took her seat and avoided making eye contact with Major. She couldn’t let him see how much this was getting to her.
“Remember, just pretend like we’re not even here.”
“Right.” Meredith scooted her stack of files closer. “Okay. Menu and final food budget...”
Even though Major seemed to have no problem ignoring Alaine and the camera and the big, fuzzy microphone catching every word they uttered, Meredith had never been so uncomfortably aware of her body in her life: her hands, her legs—should she cross them or just her ankles?—her facial expressions, her posture.
“Next week, the board and Mrs. Warner are coming in for the tasting so we can finalize the menu.” Great. Now she was saying things Major already knew because she was thinking about that microphone hovering below the edge of the table. “What have you decided to make?”
Major pulled out a stapled-together packet and handed it to her. “Everything we discussed, and I added a few things at your suggestion.”
Beyond the camera, Alaine Delacroix scribbled something on her steno pad.
“Uh, okay. Great.” Meredith hadn’t been this nervous since the oral presentation of her master’s thesis. Major handed her another piece of paper. She read, scrawled in his bold handwriting, Hang in there, you’re doing fine.
Some of the anxiety ebbed away. She looked up in time to see a bead of sweat trace its way down his hairline and along his jaw then disappear under his shirt collar. The confirmation that Major wasn’t as cool and collected as he appeared filled Meredith with the first traces of genuine confidence. She delved into his tasting menu, and soon she had almost forgotten anyone but she and Major were in the room.
When they turned to determining how many staff Major would need—kitchen porters, servers, cleanup crew—Meredith went to the small fridge built into the wall unit behind her desk and retrieved four bottles of water. Without interrupting Major’s monologue of calculations, she gave Alaine and the cameraman two of the bottles and the third to Major.
“Thanks.” He opened it and took a long swallow. “So that’s two servers per table of ten, one per eight-top, and one per two four-tops.”
“And we need to get them all to bring in their black pants a couple of days ahead of time to make sure none of them are stained or faded and that we don’t end up with anyone in chinos again.” The cold water soothed the dryness of nerves and extensive talking in Meredith’s throat.
“Agreed.” He made a note in his binder. “And as soon as Jana gets the schedule confirmed, I’ll have her get the sizes to Corie so we can make sure we get the shirts ordered early this time.”
“Don’t fancy a drive to Baton Rouge to pick them up the morning of the event?” Meredith teased. The sound of a pencil scribbling madly etched through her jollity.
“Not particularly, no.” Major winked at her then returned to talking through the number of employees he’d need on the schedule.
At three thirty, the facilities supervisor for Vue de Ceil came in with a copy of the floor plan so they could work out the arrangement of the room—tables, dance floor, and stage.
“Oh! Do you mind if we reset the camera so we can get more of an overhead of y’all working on that?” Alaine piped up for the first time since the meeting started.
Meredith glanced at Major and Orly. Both men shrugged. She nodded at the reporter then returned her attention to the large sheet of paper covering her table. “I don’t want it set up just like we did at New Year’s. Too many of the same guests are expected, and I want it to look distinctly different.”
Orly slid another roll of paper out of the plastic tube he’d brought with him and spread it out on top of the blank one. The heavily notated and revised plan from New Year’s. Meredith stood and leaned over the table, resting her right knee on the seat of her chair.
Almost as if someone covered her back with a blanket, she felt Alaine’s presence behind her, trying to get a look at the plan. But the reporter didn’t interfere, didn’t come in closer, didn’t say anything. Grudgingly, Meredith admired her restraint.
After quite a bit of discussion, the location of the dance floor was set. Major and Orly started sketching in tables, determining the proper distribution of sizes and the spacing so the servers could easily move around them.
The room went suddenly dim. Meredith, Major, and Orly all stood and turned to see the cameraman taking his equipment apart.
Alaine had the good grace to look apologetic. “I’m sorry. It’s four thirty, so he has to get back to the studio.”
Meredith checked her watch. “I hadn’t realized it was so late. I guess we’ll just have to set up another time for that interview?”
“Yes. I’ll call you in the morning to schedule it.” Alaine helped wrap up cords and pack everything into large canvas bags.
“I can have my assistant call one of the building maintenance staff to help you carry all of that out.” Meredith took a few steps toward the door to the outer office.
“Oh no, it’s not necessary.” The cameraman waved her off. “I’ve got it.”
He did indeed manage to heave everything but one small bag up onto his large shoulders and carry it from the office.
“Do you mind if I come back up and continue taking notes?” Alaine asked. “After I help him take this to his car?”
“That will be fine.” Meredith returned to the schematic and pretended to be oblivious to the fact that Major and Orly both watched Alaine leave the room. “Okay, let’s see if we can at least get the preliminary layout finished by five o’clock.”
When she returned, Alaine stood beside the fourth chair at the table, notepad in hand, making occasional notations while Major and Orly drew in tables, then erased them, then drew them in somewhere else. If Meredith moved just a foot to her right, she might be able to see what Alaine was writing.
“Miss Guidry?” Corie appeared at the main door to the office. “Do you need anything before I go?”
Meredith almost laughed at her assistant’s formality. “No, Corie. Thanks. Have a good evening.”
“You, too.” The young woman grinned and closed the door behind her.
At five fifteen, Orly finally rolled the schematics and stuffed them in the tube. “That’s a good start, I b’lieve.”
“I think so. Putting the bandstand in front of the east windows will give us a lot more room, even though it means losing the view from that side.” Meredith pressed her hands to the small of her back and stretched away the stiffness from two hours’ leaning over the table.
“Guests are always happier when there’s more room between the tables.” Major stacked his papers and files. “And the servers are as well.”
