Last Bite: A Novel of Culinary Romance by Nancy Verde Barr Read Free Book Online Page B

Mary. He’s an opportunist. But I will see him again and again. I have to work with him, and he’s asked us all to a party at his restaurant this Thursday night.”
    “Are you going to go?”
    “Yeah. I’m pretty sure Sally is going to want to go. She hasn’t been to Oran Mor and she hates not being up on what’s hot. That means I’ll go. Why don’t you come with us?”
    “You don’t have to ask me twice. I use all the connections I can to go everywhere. Wait right here.”
    Mary left and returned in a minute with a little black dress that was clearly not designed for warmth. “Here try this on.”
    “Try what on? I don’t see anything but a black handkerchief.”
    She pushed it toward me. “Try it!”
    Had God been sitting in the dressing room, he would have listed the dress as the eighth deadly sin. It was a soft, smooth silk, and its only shape was my body. Thin spaghetti straps met a bodice cut so low you would see China if I bent over. It stopped about two inches above my knees and would stop my Nonna’s heart if she saw me in it.
    “You look incredible. You
have
to wear that to the party. Wear the black Jimmy Choo heels you bought in Nantucket last summer.”
    “Are you crazy? I’ll get arrested, or at least propositioned on Second Avenue.”
    “You’re not going to be on Second Avenue. You’re going to be in the high-rent district, and this is what people are wearing.”
    “Not my people.”
    “No. You’re right about that. Your people are wearing baggy pants with fruit all over them, white coats with little kerchiefs tied around their necks, and funny hats. Trust me, Casey. You look amazing. Chef Danny will see what’s really cooking.”
    “I told you. I’m not interested.”
    “Well, that’s the point. You want him to crave you for you, and then you can reject him for using you. Payback.”
    She had a point. Revenge goes with our heritage. I took another look in the mirror. The dress was skimpy, but it didn’t reveal parts of me that I’d been taught to hide. After making sure the dress was shrinkproof in case of rain, I bought it, along with several stylish pieces for the trip. If you didn’t count the sexy payback dress, the entire wardrobe barely set me back a week’s pay.

Chapter 4
    Cookin’ good.
—Nancy Apple
    W ednesday morning I ignored the pastries on the breakfast buffet and took a plain yogurt. No sense in risking a bulge in my little black dress. I ate half the yogurt and then started to unpack the organic groceries. Mae came in as I was trying to decide if tempeh really deserved a place in this world. I didn’t have to guess where she would stand on the question. I hadn’t seen her look that happy since, as my dad would say, “the pigs ate her little sister.”
    “Is she here yet?” she asked, dropping her backpack on a stool. “Sara, I mean.”
    “Mae, I have really bad news for you. They rushed Sara to the hospital with a severe case of additive deficiency. They’re feeding her liquidized Chee-tos and pepperoni pizza through a tube, and she is responding well. She’s begun to ask for take-out from Wendy’s.”
    Mae lifted her arms into a cross as if to ward off evil spirits. “You shouldn’t even contaminate the room with the name of that place. Trust me, you’ll be eating your words as soon as youmeet Sara and taste her cheesecake.” Cheesecake made me think of the cheese Danish I had passed on earlier that morning. I figured one couldn’t hurt and headed back to the buffet.
    Our vegan chef, Sara Paul, turned out to be a delight, and her tofu cheesecake was as delicious as Mae had promised. We were even able to get all four Tonys to taste it. They declined offers of the tempeh fajitas, however, and although I did taste them, I didn’t think the local beef-heavy, Tex-Mex restaurant had to worry about being replaced. The morning’s only dicey moment was when I took Sara up to makeup and she asked if the products had been tested on animals and no one