“Thanks. Have fun tonight,” Alice said as she gave a courtesy knock on Mitchell’s door before slipping inside his office. The shades were drawn to block out the late afternoon sun. He sat in an overstuffed office chair, his huge mahogany desk cluttered with stacks of papers, scripts, old coffee cups, and stale-looking pastries he refused to let his assistant take away. Although Alice couldn’t see it, she knew from the sound of his frantic typing that his laptop was wedged behind a mound of magazines. He looked up at her entrance.
“It took you long enough,” he said. His flabby cheeks were ruddy and his greying hair was wild. A well-known broadcast guru, the sixty-something Mitchell was a powerhouse in the industry. Some called him a genius. Alice thought him nuts. But he headed up the Epicurean Network, and she didn’t.
“It’s been”—she looked at her watch—“less than five minutes since your IM.”
“One minute too long.” He stood up and stepped out from behind his desk, his small, rounded frame vibrant with energy despite him being visibly out of shape. “I read the proposal you sent me about the Easter special and I like it. You have good instincts, Alice.”
Alice bit back her sigh of relief and pushed forward. She needed to get a commitment from Mitchell on this project and quick. Time was of the essence and she’d have to plan accordingly. “Did you watch the interview footage I forwarded from Grace Chen on Niko Stavo?”
“Chen.” Mitchell bit her name out, his eyes narrowing. There was no love lost between Mitchell and Grace after she’d told him to go to hell and left her hosting job at 3Square to start her own show in Seattle. “I watched it. I guess she did a decent job.”
Moving to the window, Alice pulled back the heavy blue drape. Mitchell knew full well Grace had done a stellar job on the piece. “Yes, and you can thank her for bringing Stavo and his niece to our attention. I read the application. Did we receive approval from the legal department to approach the contestant?”
“Yes and I have to admit, I was touched here.” He tapped at his heart, or the place where most humans had hearts. “By the answers on the application. Every application has one key question—one of my more brilliant ideas—and that answer was a doozy. Sick kid’s last wish to see the uncle on the show, brilliant.”
She closed her hands into fists, nails biting into her palms before she flexed her fingers. More like sad, tragic, unfortunate that a little girl is dying, but never brilliant. “Since Stavo is a chocolatier, we’d have to revamp the format to showcase desserts. People associate Easter with chocolate so it’s the perfect air date.” Easter would give her enough time to do some investigation on her own. Enough time to find out the truth about Chloe.
“It can’t wait that long. We’ve got to get on this right now. I’m thinking a live show on Christmas Eve. White Christmas all the way. Yep, Christmas Eve will do the trick.”
“A live show on Christmas Eve?” Alice heard the breathiness in her own voice and cleared her throat. Panicking wouldn’t help anyone. She must remain calm and convince him through logic that this idea was utterly insane. She turned her back to the fading sunlight and crossed her arms. “It’s three weeks before Christmas, Mitchell—”
He waved a dismissive hand. “The kid says she was born on Christmas Day. You can’t write this shit. And we’ll need a set big enough to have a Christmas tree and kids sitting around a roaring fire, you in the middle, snow in the background. Hot chocolate all-around…blah…blah…blah…”
“Me in the middle?” she asked, her jaw throbbing from clenching it. This was getting out of hand. “I’m a producer. I don’t get in the shot.”
“You’re a real looker, Alice, and unless you can find another host, it’ll have to be you. Pete’s in the hospital, something about a gallbladder…appendix…doesn’t matter, he says he can’t make it.”
“He’ll be out for six weeks. Even if he were available, he and the crew have plans for the holidays.” Get a handle on this before it blows up in your face. Yes, she’d wanted to film the special for reasons unrelated to work. But not now. Not until she knew. She had to stall Mitchell, to convince him to wait.
“Then call me the miracle maker.” He hiked up his baggy pants and jiggled the change in his pocket, an annoying habit that set her teeth on edge. “Because it’s already done. I offered double time to your crew, and the bastards jumped at it. Your bonus is the Emmy this little gem is going to earn you—”
No. No. No. This isn’t happening. The timing of the special was critical to Alice’s donation to the bone marrow program. With the advances in modern technology, she could’ve taken the tests anywhere but she’d chosen Seattle because she needed a place to recuperate after the procedure and Grace was the only one who knew her secret. And Chloe was there.
“—I tell ya, Alice, this’ll finally cement you that Emmy.” He beamed at her, pleased with himself.
“I don’t even know if Mr. Stavo can be on the show with this short notice.” Alice’s stomach dropped she shifted on her feet, toes curling into her shoes. “We can’t pull this off during the busiest season of the year. We have no venue, no contestants, no judges, no host, although I might be able to talk Grace Chen into hosting,” she said, her mind spinning. The holiday special was Grace’s idea, after all. “I can tell you right now, Seattle doesn’t get a lot of snow. If you want a White Christmas theme, we’ll need to find a snow-making machine. But no matter how much we accomplish, we can’t have a show without contestants.”
He picked up his phone and scrolled through it. “Says here we have 1,117 contracts in Seattle, contracts that state a contestant has four hours to prep for a three-course meal, any time, and any day. They signed up for it, so you have plenty of talent to choose from, and I bet my left hand some of them are like the uncle, Ned…Rick…doesn’t matter—a cook with a sad story to tell. Now make it happen, Alice. Kids, snow, chocolate…oh, and puppies, get some puppies. People love puppies. Kids feeding puppies chocolate, that’s even better.”
“Dogs can die from eating chocolate.” Alice was unsure whether to laugh or cry at the ridiculousness of the conversation.
“Damn dogs.” He scowled as if the fault lie with her. “Fine, nix the dog and chocolate thing. Keep the puppies. They’ll add a nice touch. Now, this two-hour special, it’ll be live on Christmas Eve and we’ll air it all day Christmas Day, and daily afterward until New Year’s, when it’ll play every two hours. You’ll be interviewing the four chefs like normal, but I want you to spend the most time on the sick kid’s uncle. You’re the best at this kind of shit, Alice.” He was blowing smoke up her ass because as executive producer, he expected her to be the best at everything.
“Two hours isn’t enough time to film the entire show, and you’re forgetting about our biggest obstacle, a venue in the busiest banquet season of the year. Even if I find a venue, what if Niko Stavo refuses to be on the show? Then we’re screwed.”
Jingle…jingle went the change. “We have a contract from Chocolate Gastronomy. He’ll say yes or we’ll sue.”
“His niece is dying.” The words nearly stuck in her throat. “Suing him isn’t exactly the humane thing to do.”
“Then make him want to be on the show.” Mitchell frowned, rubbed his forehead, and then straightened. From the intense gleam in his eye, he wasn’t backing down. “Make it happen, Alice.”
Her temples began to throb. She prided herself on her organizational abilities, but she wasn’t a magician. “Mitchell, we can’t film a live show in two hours. Bakers will need at least an hour and a half per round. Maybe we do two shows. Record the first two rounds and broadcast the last round live—” And I’ll be forced to put aside my plans and fly back and forth to Seattle, not an ideal situation.
Mitchell waved her away as he rounded the desk. “Do what you have to do but get it done. Time’s a-wasting.”
Chapter Two
Alice stepped over the threshold of Chocolate Gastronomy and into controlled chaos. The shop was packed full of people, and the décor was a throwback to a 1940s diner, complete with turquoise booths and chrome-edged tables. The bittersweet scent of chocolate enveloped her, and she began to salivate. She loved the stuff, but stayed well away from it. Alice learned long ago the consequences of letting herself get out of control in the pursuit of pleasure. One bad decision led to the next. And the next. And before you knew it, you’d made a mistake you couldn’t undo and would always regret.
