“What about finishing sauces and spice mixtures that go with the recipes in the book. Stuff you just dump over the meat or vegetables that matches the recipe without really having to do anything. And maybe an app that sends the shopping list for each dish to your phone and can compile ingredients for more than one recipe. Make it so that all I have to do is buy what the app tells me, throw it all together and add heat.”
“Like a kind of interactive cookbook,” said the man who had been quiet up to that point.
“Exactly,” said Julie. “I may not care about learning to cook, but I do want to eat well.” Eric made the French noise again, and she cut her eyes at him. “And I want to impress company. Make something that would help me do that, and I’ll not only buy it, but I’ll talk about it too.”
“You’d tell the people you’re trying to impress that you dumped their dinner out of a jar?” asked the dark haired Eric loving woman, obviously disgusted.
“Not them,” said Julie, managing to keep theyou judgmental bitchsilent but sliding some of her own condescension into her tone. “But I’d tell my girlfriends, yes, and I’ll feel good about it and want to do it again.”
“Well,” said Josephine, leaning back in her chair. “You’ve certainly given us a lot to think about. “What do you think, Eric?”
Julie watched Eric draw in a breath, his fingers steepled against his lips. She really shouldn’t be watching his lips. Not when he must be reconsidering letting her come along with him. She’d driven the whole production meeting off the rails.
“I’d like to pursue it,” he said. “The whole prepared food market concerns me and the quality would have to be impeccable and fool proof. But I believe the idea is worth some more thought. Especially the interactive cookbook app. I can see people who enjoy cooking using that as well as those who don’t cook.”
He smiled at Julie and something in her chest unclenched. He wasn’t mad. At least not outwardly.
“I’ll get back to you with a direction for the next cookbook by the end of the week. Unless you have anything else, I think we’re done here.” He rose, and the other men and woman scrambled to their feet. Eric nodded his thanks before turning his attention to Josephine who was rising gracefully from her chair. “It was a pleasure as always,” he said, taking her hands as she came around the table.
“I assure you the pleasure was mine. Thank you for your insight, Julie. You’ve given my team a great deal to think about.”
“I’m sorry,” Julie said, feeling her cheeks heat. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Nonsense. Whether we use your idea or not, it’s good to be challenged and forced to think outside of what is comfortable. I can see that you do that for Eric.” Josephine shook Julie’s hand before taking Eric’s one last time. He pressed an affectionate kiss to the older woman’s cheek and then ushered Julie down the hall to the waiting elevator.
She started her apologies as soon as the doors slide closed behind them.
“Don’t be silly, cher,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “Josephine asked your opinion and you gave it. I wouldn’t have expected you to do anything else.”
Julie slid her arms under his jacket and breathed in the spicy scent of him. His back was warm under her hands, and she could feel his muscles bunch through the polished cotton of his dress shirt as he pulled her closer.
“Although,” he said, his lips pressed against her hair. “As a world renowned chef, it is a bit humbling to have the woman you love tell people she doesn’t care about learning to cook.”
She knew he loved her, but it still gave her a thrill to hear him say it. “It’s just because you’re so good at it,” she said, grinning into his chest, and felt his lips curl on the top of her head.
“Food porn?” he said with a laugh.
“Not my phrase. I just copied, but it’s true.”
“I think we’re going to have to expand the definition,” he said before tipping her face up and slanting his mouth over hers in a kiss.
