Disbelief and shock pulled at Meredith’s bottom jaw, and she stared at her mother. “I would never compromise my integrity—nor B-G’s—like that.”

“Calm down. I’m not saying you did. I was just confused by how the final number could have been that much lower.” Mom looked back down at her list, asked about some of the complaints detailed in the report: valet parking attendants too slow; tables bussed too fast; band too loud; lights too dim—“Pretty much the same complaints as at every event, so just keep working on that.”

Same complaints ... probably by the same people. Meredith scrawled something illegible on her notepad as if taking it seriously.

Mom studied her notes for a moment then closed the planner. “It’s come to my attention that you’ve been keeping something from me.”

Ward. Of course. The receptionists had no doubt blabbed about his coming here to pick her up. She hated the idea that her personal life was fodder for watercooler gossip around the office. But she also knew her mother’s way of getting information out of people. “What are you talking about?”

“Jenn told me you’ve hired a contractor for your house.”

Defensive words gathered in a ball in the back of Meredith’s throat. “What? Oh, yeah—well, I haven’t officially hired him. I ran into him at the hardware store last Monday and asked for a bid.”

“I can’t tell you what a relief that is to me.” Mom smiled—the first real smile she’d shown since Meredith entered the room. “I probably haven’t told you, but the only reason I counseled you against buying that house is because I thought you would be stubborn and insist on doing everything yourself. I can’t wait to see it when it’s finished.”

Relief tripped up Meredith’s thoughts. “Thanks, Mom.”

“You’re welcome. Now, best not keep Alaine and Major waiting any longer.”

“Right.” Meredith took her notepad and returned to her own office, smiling. But her good mood vanished as soon as she walked in. Alaine sat in Meredith’s regular place at the table, having what looked like an intimate conversation with Major.

“How’s that? Can you see both of our faces?” Alaine asked.

The guy behind the camera gave a thumbs-up, and Alaine stood.

“Oh, Meredith, I didn’t hear you come in. We’re ready to get started whenever you are.” Alaine waved Meredith toward the table. Toward Meredith’s table in Meredith’s office.

Meredith turned around, pretending to look for something on her desk. She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, reaching as far down inside as she could to draw upon whatever confidence she could find in this situation. She couldn’t let this woman’s beauty and command of the situation rob her of what little professionalism she had left. She caught sight of the tube of her favorite tinted lip balm next to her phone and quickly swiped a little on.

“We’re mostly here to get footage of you two working together. That will become part of a montage with a voice-over, most likely. Meredith, if you don’t mind, after you’re finished, I’d love to do an on-camera interview with you to get caught up on everything you’ve already done.”

“I don’t mind.” Good. Her voice hadn’t sounded as if she’d been inhaling helium. She took her seat and avoided making eye contact with Major. She couldn’t let him see how much this was getting to her.

“Remember, just pretend like we’re not even here.”

“Right.” Meredith scooted her stack of files closer. “Okay. Menu and final food budget...”

Even though Major seemed to have no problem ignoring Alaine and the camera and the big, fuzzy microphone catching every word they uttered, Meredith had never been so uncomfortably aware of her body in her life: her hands, her legs—should she cross them or just her ankles?—her facial expressions, her posture.

“Next week, the board and Mrs. Warner are coming in for the tasting so we can finalize the menu.” Great. Now she was saying things Major already knew because she was thinking about that microphone hovering below the edge of the table. “What have you decided to make?”

Major pulled out a stapled-together packet and handed it to her. “Everything we discussed, and I added a few things at your suggestion.”

Beyond the camera, Alaine Delacroix scribbled something on her steno pad.

“Uh, okay. Great.” Meredith hadn’t been this nervous since the oral presentation of her master’s thesis. Major handed her another piece of paper. She read, scrawled in his bold handwriting, Hang in there, you’re doing fine.

Some of the anxiety ebbed away. She looked up in time to see a bead of sweat trace its way down his hairline and along his jaw then disappear under his shirt collar. The confirmation that Major wasn’t as cool and collected as he appeared filled Meredith with the first traces of genuine confidence. She delved into his tasting menu, and soon she had almost forgotten anyone but she and Major were in the room.

When they turned to determining how many staff Major would need—kitchen porters, servers, cleanup crew—Meredith went to the small fridge built into the wall unit behind her desk and retrieved four bottles of water. Without interrupting Major’s monologue of calculations, she gave Alaine and the cameraman two of the bottles and the third to Major.

“Thanks.” He opened it and took a long swallow. “So that’s two servers per table of ten, one per eight-top, and one per two four-tops.”

“And we need to get them all to bring in their black pants a couple of days ahead of time to make sure none of them are stained or faded and that we don’t end up with anyone in chinos again.” The cold water soothed the dryness of nerves and extensive talking in Meredith’s throat.

“Agreed.” He made a note in his binder. “And as soon as Jana gets the schedule confirmed, I’ll have her get the sizes to Corie so we can make sure we get the shirts ordered early this time.”

“Don’t fancy a drive to Baton Rouge to pick them up the morning of the event?” Meredith teased. The sound of a pencil scribbling madly etched through her jollity.

“Not particularly, no.” Major winked at her then returned to talking through the number of employees he’d need on the schedule.

At three thirty, the facilities supervisor for Vue de Ceil came in with a copy of the floor plan so they could work out the arrangement of the room—tables, dance floor, and stage.

“Oh! Do you mind if we reset the camera so we can get more of an overhead of y’all working on that?” Alaine piped up for the first time since the meeting started.

Meredith glanced at Major and Orly. Both men shrugged. She nodded at the reporter then returned her attention to the large sheet of paper covering her table. “I don’t want it set up just like we did at New Year’s. Too many of the same guests are expected, and I want it to look distinctly different.”

Orly slid another roll of paper out of the plastic tube he’d brought with him and spread it out on top of the blank one. The heavily notated and revised plan from New Year’s. Meredith stood and leaned over the table, resting her right knee on the seat of her chair.

Almost as if someone covered her back with a blanket, she felt Alaine’s presence behind her, trying to get a look at the plan. But the reporter didn’t interfere, didn’t come in closer, didn’t say anything. Grudgingly, Meredith admired her restraint.

After quite a bit of discussion, the location of the dance floor was set. Major and Orly started sketching in tables, determining the proper distribution of sizes and the spacing so the servers could easily move around them.

The room went suddenly dim. Meredith, Major, and Orly all stood and turned to see the cameraman taking his equipment apart.

Alaine had the good grace to look apologetic. “I’m sorry. It’s four thirty, so he has to get back to the studio.”

Meredith checked her watch. “I hadn’t realized it was so late. I guess we’ll just have to set up another time for that interview?”

“Yes. I’ll call you in the morning to schedule it.” Alaine helped wrap up cords and pack everything into large canvas bags.

“I can have my assistant call one of the building maintenance staff to help you carry all of that out.” Meredith took a few steps toward the door to the outer office.

“Oh no, it’s not necessary.” The cameraman waved her off. “I’ve got it.”

He did indeed manage to heave everything but one small bag up onto his large shoulders and carry it from the office.

“Do you mind if I come back up and continue taking notes?” Alaine asked. “After I help him take this to his car?”

“That will be fine.” Meredith returned to the schematic and pretended to be oblivious to the fact that Major and Orly both watched Alaine leave the room. “Okay, let’s see if we can at least get the preliminary layout finished by five o’clock.”

When she returned, Alaine stood beside the fourth chair at the table, notepad in hand, making occasional notations while Major and Orly drew in tables, then erased them, then drew them in somewhere else. If Meredith moved just a foot to her right, she might be able to see what Alaine was writing.

“Miss Guidry?” Corie appeared at the main door to the office. “Do you need anything before I go?”

Meredith almost laughed at her assistant’s formality. “No, Corie. Thanks. Have a good evening.”

“You, too.” The young woman grinned and closed the door behind her.

At five fifteen, Orly finally rolled the schematics and stuffed them in the tube. “That’s a good start, I b’lieve.”

“I think so. Putting the bandstand in front of the east windows will give us a lot more room, even though it means losing the view from that side.” Meredith pressed her hands to the small of her back and stretched away the stiffness from two hours’ leaning over the table.

“Guests are always happier when there’s more room between the tables.” Major stacked his papers and files. “And the servers are as well.”

“We’ll get together again next week to finalize the plan after the board’s tasting. I’ll e-mail you both to set up a time.”

Orly raised the plastic tube in salute. “See y’all later.”

“How do you spell his name?” Alaine asked.

“It’s actually Orlando Broussard. But he goes by Orly—O-r-l-y.” Meredith dropped her stack of work on her desk with a thud.

“Thanks. I really appreciate you letting me do this, Meredith. This is going to be a great way to publicize the Hearts to HEARTS charity and hopefully raise a lot more money for the hospital.”

“I’ll do whatever I can to help.” Meredith smiled, though dreading the added stress having a reporter and cameraman around all the time would create.

“Mere, I’ll bring your take-out box back by on my way out if you’re going to be here for a little while.” Major hovered near the door.

“Yeah. I have some projects I need to write up for my staff, so I’ll be here another half hour or so.” She extended her right hand to Alaine. “It was very nice to meet you, and I look forward to working with you.”

“Same here. I appreciate everything. Really.” That high-wattage smile returned. It seemed much warmer than it had in Mom’s office.

Alaine turned to leave. “And Chef, I’m looking forward to seeing a lot more of you soon.”

“Why don’t you come up to my office, and we can look at my schedule.” Major motioned Alaine out the door ahead of him.

Her charitable feelings toward Alaine Delacroix vanished, crushed under a block of ice. Meredith had been right. Major would never feel that way about her. Ward seemed to like her, though she couldn’t quite figure out why. But how long would that last before he met an Alaine of his own?

Chapter 11

“I’m happy you had time in your schedule to meet with me today.” Alaine Delacroix finished fiddling with her camera and settled into the guest chair facing Meredith’s desk.

“I’m pleased to be able to accommodate you.” Meredith clasped her hands atop her desk blotter and tried to force her shoulders to loosen up.

“Chef O’Hara had so many wonderful things to say about you when I interviewed him last week—I couldn’t wait to come talk to the miracle worker myself.”

“I’m sure he was exaggerating.” Meredith didn’t know why she always felt the need to deflect compliments rather than just say thank you and move on. “So I take it the interview with him went well?”

“Yes—I aired a twenty-minute segment on today’s show as a promo for his cooking segment starting in a couple of weeks. And it made a nice follow-up to the part of the interview I aired on the New Year’s Eve Masquerade Ball.”