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Authors: Ellie Alexander
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something that she didn’t want anyone else to hear.
Elliot threw his head back in a half laugh and shot her a nasty look. He pushed to his feet and left Linda looking slightly stunned.
On his way out the door he took notice of Stephanie and me in the kitchen. His posture shifted, as he strolled to us and gave us both a toothy smile.
“Ladies, how goes it?”
Stephanie visibly blushed. That was a first.
“So this is where the magic happens?” He reached into the mixing bowl and snagged a taste of the cookie batter. Working the batter around in his mouth, he nodded. “Hmm. Interesting flavor combination. I taste amaretto, right?”
Stephanie wrapped a strand of hair around her finger. “Yeah. How’d you know?”
“Years in the biz.” He turned to me. “This isn’t extract, though; I’m thinking you used the real thing, right?”
I had to admit even I was a little impressed. I mean, I guess I’ve always been under the impression that most television hosts are hired for their looks and personality and less so for their culinary prowess. I had to give Elliot credit for having a good palate to accompany his good looks.
Before I could answer, Stephanie handed him the bottle of liqueur. He appraised it and placed it on the counter. “Good stuff. Nice. That’s the way we do things at my pop-up pastry shops. Nothing but the best. Baking should be sexy, you know.”
I thought Stephanie might actually swoon. Not that I’ve ever seen anyone swoon, but she fit the description. Elliot responded by layering on the charm. I understood why Sterling was irritated, and I was more than a little surprised that Stephanie of all people was gaga for the food star. There was something about his blinding smile that I didn’t trust.
“Not that I’m surprised to see such sexy baking from such lovely ladies. My money’s on your chocolate cake,” he said to me. “It was the star of the show last night for sure.”
“But you didn’t even taste it.”
Elliot caught Stephanie’s eye. “She doesn’t get sexy, does she?”
Stephanie twirled her hair and shook her head in agreement.
“Your cake looked the best.” Elliot spoke to me like he was addressing a child. “That’s baking sexy and all that matters when it comes to the show.”
He scooped another taste of the cookie dough. “You heard the news, right? About Chef Marco? Dude, total bummer. Now Philip has me running all around. Not in my contract, but hey, I’m the kind of guy who jumps in wherever I’m needed.” He snapped his fingers together. “I gotta run, but let’s hang later. I want to see more of your little town.”
Stephanie nodded. I figured this was because she didn’t trust herself to speak. Elliot left, completely aware that all eyes followed him out the door. One set of those eyes belonged to Linda Belle, who maintained her window seat. Her Southern smile had evaporated from her face, replaced by pursed lips. She hardened her eyes and watched Elliot leave.
Our eyes met across the room. She looked frazzled for a moment, but quickly returned to her usual demeanor, waved with her fingers and shot me a sugary grin. Then she picked up her handkerchief and hurried off in the same direction as Elliot.
I wasn’t sure what was going on with her and Elliot, but I couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with Marco’s murder.
Chapter Ten
The scent of my amaretto dream cookies baking in the oven filled the space. It was almost time for the lunch crowd to start funneling in, and I hadn’t started on specialty sandwiches yet. In the fall and winter locals flock to Torte and all the other restaurants in town during the lunch hour. When OSF is in full swing most locals avoid being anywhere near the theater between eleven and two, as it’s usually a mob of tourists trying to grab a bite to eat before catching the matinee.
I’d enjoyed reconnecting with people from town the last few weeks. Torte’s a great spot to linger over a
Elliot threw his head back in a half laugh and shot her a nasty look. He pushed to his feet and left Linda looking slightly stunned.
On his way out the door he took notice of Stephanie and me in the kitchen. His posture shifted, as he strolled to us and gave us both a toothy smile.
“Ladies, how goes it?”
Stephanie visibly blushed. That was a first.
“So this is where the magic happens?” He reached into the mixing bowl and snagged a taste of the cookie batter. Working the batter around in his mouth, he nodded. “Hmm. Interesting flavor combination. I taste amaretto, right?”
Stephanie wrapped a strand of hair around her finger. “Yeah. How’d you know?”
“Years in the biz.” He turned to me. “This isn’t extract, though; I’m thinking you used the real thing, right?”
I had to admit even I was a little impressed. I mean, I guess I’ve always been under the impression that most television hosts are hired for their looks and personality and less so for their culinary prowess. I had to give Elliot credit for having a good palate to accompany his good looks.
Before I could answer, Stephanie handed him the bottle of liqueur. He appraised it and placed it on the counter. “Good stuff. Nice. That’s the way we do things at my pop-up pastry shops. Nothing but the best. Baking should be sexy, you know.”
I thought Stephanie might actually swoon. Not that I’ve ever seen anyone swoon, but she fit the description. Elliot responded by layering on the charm. I understood why Sterling was irritated, and I was more than a little surprised that Stephanie of all people was gaga for the food star. There was something about his blinding smile that I didn’t trust.
“Not that I’m surprised to see such sexy baking from such lovely ladies. My money’s on your chocolate cake,” he said to me. “It was the star of the show last night for sure.”
“But you didn’t even taste it.”
Elliot caught Stephanie’s eye. “She doesn’t get sexy, does she?”
Stephanie twirled her hair and shook her head in agreement.
“Your cake looked the best.” Elliot spoke to me like he was addressing a child. “That’s baking sexy and all that matters when it comes to the show.”
He scooped another taste of the cookie dough. “You heard the news, right? About Chef Marco? Dude, total bummer. Now Philip has me running all around. Not in my contract, but hey, I’m the kind of guy who jumps in wherever I’m needed.” He snapped his fingers together. “I gotta run, but let’s hang later. I want to see more of your little town.”
Stephanie nodded. I figured this was because she didn’t trust herself to speak. Elliot left, completely aware that all eyes followed him out the door. One set of those eyes belonged to Linda Belle, who maintained her window seat. Her Southern smile had evaporated from her face, replaced by pursed lips. She hardened her eyes and watched Elliot leave.
Our eyes met across the room. She looked frazzled for a moment, but quickly returned to her usual demeanor, waved with her fingers and shot me a sugary grin. Then she picked up her handkerchief and hurried off in the same direction as Elliot.
I wasn’t sure what was going on with her and Elliot, but I couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with Marco’s murder.
Chapter Ten
The scent of my amaretto dream cookies baking in the oven filled the space. It was almost time for the lunch crowd to start funneling in, and I hadn’t started on specialty sandwiches yet. In the fall and winter locals flock to Torte and all the other restaurants in town during the lunch hour. When OSF is in full swing most locals avoid being anywhere near the theater between eleven and two, as it’s usually a mob of tourists trying to grab a bite to eat before catching the matinee.
I’d enjoyed reconnecting with people from town the last few weeks. Torte’s a great spot to linger over a
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