by JoAnn Ross
“Well, you’re still young,” Birdy pointed out. “Of course, your husband’s quite a bit older, but age isn’t such a big deal for men. They’re not the ones with their eggs getting older by the day.”
And wasn’t that a fun thought?
It didn’t take long for Jebediah and his partner to pull them out of the snowbank, and within fifteen minutes the SUV was crunching its way across the mall parking lot.
“The nice thing about winter,” Birdy said, her optimism once again reminding Madeline of the grandmother who’d played such an important role in her life, “is that the snow fills in all the potholes.”
The kitchen setup in the store was as good as promised. As she entered the area to the enthusiastic applause of all the women—along with a few men—who’d braved the weather to show up, Madeline felt almost like a rock star.
Birdy had warmed up the finished dish Madeline had sent ahead, sending the rich aroma of wine gravy and braised meat wafting throughout the store.
“That scrumptious smell’s goin’ to be drawing them in from all over the mall,” Birdy predicted.
Which appeared to be true, as the crowd grew while Madeline demonstrated how to caramelize meat in a sauté pan from the company with whom her agent had negotiated an endorsement deal. Birdy had gone all out, setting up a camera that allowed those in the back of the crowd to watch on a large-screen television.
“Sizzling is good,” Madeline said as the olive oil danced. “This part takes patience because you want the meat to be nicely colored on all sides. That’s what elevates your dish to perfection.”
She took the ribs out of the pan and put them on a plate. “Now we’ll sauté our mirepoix—which is simply a fancy French name for a mixture of cut celery, carrots, and onions—in the drippings from the meat.”
Again, the assistant had come through with the prep work.
“The fat in the pan is bringing up more meat flavors into the veggies,” Madeline said as she stirred them. “We’ll cook them just until they’re tender. An interesting little bit of trivia is that mirepoix is named for a duke who was a field marshal for King Louis the Fifteenth. According to the stories, despite being incompetent, he was given the post of ambassador because the king appreciated his wife’s charms.”
As always when she shared it, the rumor of alleged infidelity raised eyebrows.
“Whatever Mirepoix’s failings, the man could definitely cook. He gave his name to lots of different sauces, but this one has become the standard.”
As she went on to demonstrate how to deglaze with basalmic vinegar and red wine, Madeline at first thought the eighteenth-century courtly gossip was the cause of the murmurs humming through the crowd.
Then she noticed a couple sharing an iPhone, while others around them had begun busily tapping into various smart phones.
Curious, she glanced over at Birdy, who, after looking up from her own phone’s screen, went as pale as the onions sautéing in the pan.
The older woman hustled over to Madeline. “Now that Chef Madeline’s been good enough to share her wonderful culinary tips with us, Julie will be serving the final result,” she announced. “And I know you’ll all enjoy it.” She took hold of Madeline’s arm and dragged her behind a tall counter filled with shiny upscale coffee makers. “What’s wrong?” Madeline asked.
“I don’t know how to tell you this, dear, but one of the women in the crowd apparently hit on a YouTube video while Googling your name. My guess is she’s a shopper who didn’t know about you being here today and went online to find out more about you.”
“Which video?” The network kept several of her past shows on their Web site.
Birdy winced. “It’s hard to explain. Maybe I’d best just show you.” She handed Madeline her phone.
The screen was small and a distracting glare from the store’s bright overhead lights at first made it difficult for Madeline to make out what she was seeing.
It appeared to be a man and woman having sex. Energetic, hot, sweaty sex. Fortunately, the phone’s sound had been muted.
Madeline was still wondering what this had to do with her when realization struck like a meat mallet to her head.
It wasn’t just any man. The crescent-shaped birthmark at the base of his spine gave him away.
It was Maxime.
Her husband.
Proving, Madeline thought as white spots like snowflakes began to dance in front of her eyes, that not everything that happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas.
New York Times bestselling author
JoAnn Ross
THE HOMECOMING
A Shelter Bay Novel
Former Navy SEAL Sax Douchett returns to his home
town and is hailed as a local hero. But starting over is
difficult when he unearths a long-buried secret that
reunites him with a past he’s never forgotten.
Part of that past is Sheriff Kara Conway, a girl who’s
always held a special place in his heart. But as he
cautiously reconnects with Kara and bonds with her
young son, another long-held secret in Shelter Bay
threatens their second chance at a life together...
“Ms. Ross just keeps getting better and better.”
—Fresh Fiction
Available wherever books are sold or at
penguin.com
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Also by JoAnn Ross
Shelter Bay Novels
The Homecoming
High Risk Novels
Freefall
Crossfire
Shattered
Breakpoint
