Tags:
Fiction,
General,
Suspense,
Romance,
Contemporary,
Adult,
Women Authors,
Georgia,
Murder,
secrets,
Scandals
paused for an unnecessarily lengthy time, âIâll bite. What are you talking about?â
âI had an interesting offer for you after the interview aired.â
Chelsea thought about Nelsonâs ongoing argument that she belonged on television. âIf itâs from the network, suggesting I replace Joan Lundon, tell them the answerâs no.â
âActually, the call was from Roxanne Scarbrough.â
That was a surprise. âWhat in the world could Americaâs Diva of Domesticity want with me?â
âSheâs looking for a biographer.â
âNo way.â Chelsea folded her arms across the front of her silk jacket. In defiance of the weather, her suit was a splash of bright, sunshine yellow. âIâd rather swim naked in the East River with a bunch of killer sharks than work with that woman.â
Mary Louâs eyes narrowed, revealing surprise at Chelseaâs adamant refusal. âAm I missing something here?â
âLetâs just say that Roxanne Scarbrough and I had a slight personality clash and leave it at that.â Actually, it had been dislike at first sightâas clear and strong as one hundred proof grain alcohol.
âRoxanne thinks the world of you.â
Chelsea seriously doubted that Roxanne thought of anyone but herself. It also did not escape her notice that her agent and Roxanne Scarbrough seemed to be on a first-name basis.
âTell me youâre not that Steel Magnolia from hellâs agent.â
It was no secret that Mary Lou Wilson had migrated to Manhattan from somewhere in the deep South. Indeed, the agent, while outwardly appearing the epitome of New York chic, went out of her way to cultivate her image as a publishing outsider. Chelsea had noticed, on more than one occasion, that the more prolonged the contract negotiations, the more Mary Louâs voice took on a sultry slow cadence of the South, causing more than one misguided editor to let down her guard. Which with Mary Lou, Chelsea reminded herself now, was always a mistake.
âAs it happens, Roxanne is one of my oldest clients,â Mary Lou confirmed.
âAnd one of the most profitable, too, Iâll bet,â Chelsea muttered.
She glanced around the professionally decorated office, seeing it with new eyes, now that she realized the attractive furnishings sheâd always admired had undoubtedly been selected by the most vicious mouth in the South.
âYou know I never discuss other clientsâ earnings,â Mary Lou said mildly.
âI canât believe you can even stand to be in the sameroom with that woman.â Chelsea studied the exquisite Ming vase on its ebony pedestal sheâd always admired and wondered if it had been purchased with Mary Louâs fifteen percent of Roxanne Scarbroughâs latest bestselling cookbook, Just Desserts.
âRoxanne is a bit of a challenge from time to time,â Mary Lou admitted with what Chelsea decided had to be the understatement of the millennium. âBut sheâs garnered the major percentage of the life-style market, and her fans love her.â
It crossed Chelseaâs mind that were she to write the truth about the beloved life-style maven, all those fans would disappear like Roxanneâs famous beer-battered popcorn shrimp at a Super Bowl party.
Although sheâd throw herself off the top of the Empire State Building before admitting it, sheâd actually tried the recipe at her last party and earned raves from all the guests. Even Nelson, who considered himself a gourmand, had been impressed.
âWhy doesnât she have her usual cowriter do the book?â
âGlenda Walker is excellent at interpreting Roxanneâs creative vision to the written word. But something like an autobiography is, quite honestly, beyond her talents.â
âYou know I donât want to ghostwrite.â And even if she did, Roxanne Scarbrough would not be on the top of her list of