“Someone other than family.”
“Well, I’ve served the recipe to some of my customers in the past.”
“That’s what I’m talking about. Will any of them have seen the original recipe in your grandmother’s hand?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember ever showing it to any of them, although I’ve served the cake in the restaurant from time to time, and they all seemed to enjoy it.”
Susan ate another piece of brownie and stood. “I have to get back to the station. But see if you can find the recipe or if any of your customers remember seeing it. If you can get a few credible witnesses, I’m willing to give you airtime to tell your side of the story. If you’re telling the truth, it could clear your good name and your restaurant’s reputation with it.”
Bethany sighed and tried on a smile, but she couldn’t make it stick. In all her imaginings of the worst that couldhappen, she had not imagined this. Not only had she failed to win the contest, but her personal integrity had been destroyed along with that of her business. There was no way she could ever recover. She and Travis must close the doors to Grandma Lou’s.
Her lip quivered. “Thank you, Susan. I appreciate your willingness to share both sides of the story.”
“Here’s my card. Call me when you’re ready.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Hank shifted in the driver’s seat of his Porsche and did his best to keep the anger from his voice. “Bethany Parker wouldneversteal a recipe and enter it into a contest. She’s the most honest, respectable, kind, and considerate woman I’ve ever met. You’re making a mistake.”
The Fresh & Easy representative Pamela had managed to track down for him after he’d left the studio was apologetic, yet unwavering. “Sir, we appreciate your support of Bethany Parker, but I’m afraid the rules of the contest are quite firm. The winning recipe must be an original. The fact of the matter is Desmond Mitchell shared the same recipe for chocolate cake with buttercream frosting on a nationally aired television production monthsbeforethe entry was submitted by Bethany Parker in our contest.”
“Yes, because hestolethe recipe from her.”
“Can you prove it?”
“If I can, will you reinstate her entry as the winner? This accusation of plagiarism will destroy a good, honest woman’s reputation and the reputation of her business.”
“If you have concrete evidence, of course we willreconsider. We’ll delay announcing her replacement for a few days, so you have time to submit your evidence. Can you do it?”
“I’m sure going to try,” Hank said, clutching the wheel. “I’ll be in touch.” He hung up the phone as the light turned green and stepped on the gas, only to apply the brakes a few minutes later. Los Angeles traffic was its usual tangled mess.
He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and studied the brake lights on the car in front of him. There was no way Bethany had cheated on her contest entry. Desmond had to have stolen it.
He squeezed the wheel like he wished he could squeeze the life out of the Chef King right now. If he had known the extent of his treachery, Hank would have tossed the jerk out on the street the minute he’d spotted him annoying Bethany. He should track the thief down now and teach him a lesson or two. It wouldn’t help Bethany restore her reputation, but it sure would help Hank release his pent-up anger.
Traffic began to move again but crawled along at a snail’s pace. It took almost an hour before he pulled into the exclusive gated neighborhood where he lived in the Hollywood Hills. Hank used the time to call Blackie, the producers, and a private investigation firm that had a reputation for getting answers fast. He’d worked himself into quite a stew by the time he arrived home.
The first thing he noticed was Connor’s Honda Civic in the driveway with Elizabeth’s shiny red Mini Cooper parked next to it.
Hank entered his house from the garage to hear raised voices coming from the great room. He paused in the entrance to listen.
“You should be happy,” Elizabeth was saying. “Hank’sgot his dream role now, and you’ll continue to be able to mooch off him for the rest of your college expenses.”
Connor’s voice rose a notch. “Sure, he’s helping me with school, but I’m not mooching. I intend to pay every penny back when I graduate. My point is, he’s not happy.”
“How would you know if he’s happy or not? You’ve only known him for a year. I’ve been with him for almost fifteen. I think I’m a better judge of his happiness. Trust me, landing the role of his dreams makes him happy.”
He was about to enter the room, but Connor’s next words stopped him cold.
“Can’t you see he’s in love with her? That’s why he’s been moping around and giving one syllable answers to everything he’s asked. The big guy’s in love, and he doesn’t even know it.”
For some reason, Connor’s assertion, which he would have scoffed at a few months ago, had him shaking in his custom-made Oxford shoes.
“Hank in love,” Elizabeth said with a laugh. “Never. Your brother’s left a trail of broken hearts a mile in every direction. But he’s neveroncebeen in love. You of all people should know why.”
“What do you mean?” Connor asked, sounding puzzled.
Hank found himself moving forward to make sure he heard whatever rationale Elizabeth would give.
