“Well, Sis, it turns out that Cotati is in a great area for antiques. You’re not the only one under pressure, you know. Thanks to Caesar’s mushrooms I’ve had to rearrange my buying trip, so for once it’s your turn to do something for me.”
Godiva tried to look insulted, but Goldie didn’t buy it.
“Don’t give me that look! You manipulate all the time. This time it’s my turn. Besides, no one loses—your columns will get written, I might pick up some good antiques and we’ll make Mom happy.”
“Well I don’t know...”
Flossie jabbed a bony finger at Godiva’s breastbone. “Well I do! I think Caesar’s right! Wellington’s trying to sabotage him and it’s a dangerous game. Thank goodness you didn’t eat enough of those poisonous mushrooms to, well, kick the bucket.”
“Okay, Mom, you win. We’ll check it out. Maybe you’re right after all.”
“Right about what, Grandma Flossie?” Chili stood in the doorway of the kitchen shaking her head while watching her grandmother win another argument.
“Yesterday, when Grandma was entertaining at the Home, her friend Darla Darling told her a story about a rotten kid who beat up Darla’s little boy years ago.” Godiva shivered with disgust. “The boy wound up in the hospital with a broken leg. Guess who the bully was? Biff Wellington! Darla convinced Grandma that he’s really dangerous. Now she’s afraid something bad might happen to you or Caesar so she just talked us into going to Wellington’s hometown to snoop around.”
Torch sailed into the kitchen and snagged Chili for an evening out on the town, designed to show her off to his friends. As they were headed out the door, Romano walked in, his arms laden with white paper boxes from the
Ming Dynasty on Beverly Drive.
Guadalupe immediately began scooping the savory meal into serving dishes while Godiva motioned for everyone to sit at the kitchen table. Even before they sat down, Godiva blurted out that she and Goldie were going to Wellington’s hometown to investigate his past.
Flossie jumped in front of her daughters and took center stage. “Caesar, wait till I tell you what my friend Darla said yesterday.” Eyes sparkling, she revealed her gossip, taking credit for convincing the twins to go on an under-cover mission.
Romano stroked the ends of his spectacular moustache. “So, ladies, what do you expect to find in Cotati?”
Goldie laid her cards on the table. “Well, it’s a small town and people love to gossip, especially when there’s a celebrity involved. Since this is going to be a buying trip for me, we’ll just ask a few questions while we’re shopping for antiques. Turn over a few rocks...you never know what you might find.”
Sterling slammed his coffee cup down on the table. “Maybe you guys are barkin’ up the wrong tree. Is there anyone else who would want to harm you or your show, Caesar? Whenever I read one of those whodunits the real culprit is never the one you think it is. You say that this Wellington is a jerk, but it doesn’t feel right that he would be so obvious. He can’t be that stupid, can he?”
Flossie chuckled. “You might think he’s got
schmaltz
for brains, but he could be crazy like a fox. Don’t forget, he was clever enough to lure that cute little Candy away from Caesar. So, let’s not write him off yet.”
Godiva ran her fingers through her hair. “But, on the other hand, Uncle Sterling could be right. What are we missing?” She turned to Flossie.
“Your father, he should rest in peace, always said the reason magic worked was because the magician could get the audience to focus on the blind. That way they didn’t notice what was going on right in front of their faces.”
Caesar nodded. “That’s true, Flossie. You know, until I talked to all of you I questioned whether it was only in my mind, but now I’m sure it’s not just my imagination.”
“Maybe we should go to the police before someone really does get killed.” Goldie reached for the telephone on the wall.
“Wait, wait!” Romano got up and paced around, gesturing with a fried wonton. “Let’s think this through. At this point, its just speculation. If we go to the police now and it gets out in the press right before the tournament, it could really hurt me. Wellington could turn it around and make it look like I’m creating a story to discredit him. I don’t need that.” Godiva flinched as the wonton crumbled in his clenched fist. “Don’t worry, Goldie. Chili is safe. It’s me he’s after. And my title.”
“You’re probably right, Caesar, but as long as Chili’s part of the show I’m worried.”
Godiva walked around the table to stand behind Romano and gently massaged his muscular shoulders trying to ease away his tension. She ignored the rest of her family’s raised eyebrows.
CHAPTER 11
“Mom, what if I can’t do this? What if I get so nervous I hurl all over the stage?” Chili was shaking her hands and prancing around the dressing room doing a livelier
cha-cha
than the spry old ladies on her father’s cruise ship.
“You’ll be marvelous, sweetheart. This isn’t the first time you’ve prepared food in front of a crowd.”
“Yeah, I know, but remember what happened at the Cook Inlet Cookoff when I saw the AlaskaOne cameras?”
“I remember, darling, you ran to the bathroom and lost your lunch! Don’t worry, Caesar’s a real pro. He’ll cover for you if anything goes wrong.” Goldie tucked a wayward copper ringlet behind Chili’s ear. A light flashed on and off over the dressing room door. “All right, Chili. That’s the signal. Time to get out there and wow the crowd. Show these Hollywood phonies what a real Alaskan can do.”
Goldie grabbed the doorknob while Chili screwed up her courage. They both whipped through the doorway, where Goldie collided with an unsavory-looking janitor who was pushing a cleaning cart.
“
Lo siento mucho, senora
.”
Not understanding what he said, a weak smile wobbled across her face. “Oh my, I am so sorry! It’s my daughter’s debut, so I’m a bit nervous, you know?”
He answered in English. “No, senora, it is I who apologize to you. I saw the lights flashing. I should know to move out of the way.” He waved at the red light bulb over the door, turned to Chili and dipped a swarthy hand under the collar of his stained gray coveralls. He pulled out a large gold cross and brought it to his puckered mouth. “For you, senorita, I would send a prayer
muy especial
to wish you good luck.”
Goldie stared at the exquisitely detailed crucifix as he dropped it back into place.
Must be a family heirloom.
A stagehand barreled through the swinging double doors at the end of the hallway, followed by a small entourage. “Miss Pepper! Five minutes!” Chili looked at Goldie, took a deep breath and headed toward the stage. The corridor was clear now except for the janitor and a lone fellow pushing a mail cart, his frantic hands waving in the air as he confronted the custodian. As Goldie passed them on her way out she heard a snippet of their heated conversation. It sounded like the little guy said something about a muddy room. The janitor just shrugged and stalked off.
Goldie joined the rest of the family in the audience. Instead of layers of vintage clothing, today she was wearing one of her sister’s fabulous designer suits, which she carefully smoothed out before sitting down.
Loud whispers floated through the audience.
A lady wearing impossibly tight purple jeans jumped up and pointed to the twins. “Look. There’s G.O.D.”
“No way! God doesn’t come to cooking shows.”
“Well this one does. She writes that new column in the
Times
. You know, they have her picture at the top.”
“Yeah. But there’s two of her. Which one is she?”
“Damned if I know.”
An elderly couple approached them, the woman holding out a piece of paper. Ready to sign an autograph, Godiva reached into her purse for her gold Mont Blanc. The couple marched right past her and fixed their sights on Flossie and Sterling instead. Godiva dropped the pen on the floor as she tried to slip it back into her purse. Chuckling to herself, Goldie picked it up and handed it to her sister.
“We are so sorry to bother you. We saw your act last year at the Hollywood Has-Beens benefit.” They flashed their dentures at the old timers. “Would you mind terribly giving us your autographs?”
“Why, it’s no trouble at all!” Flossie reached over, snatched the pen from her daughter’s well-manicured fingers and scrawled her name on the back of the envelope the woman handed her. Sterling added his own John Hancock, and then clicked the pen shut and pocketed it.
“Oh, thank you.” The man clasped Sterling’s hand in a hearty shake. “You know, we actually caught your magic act in Vegas back in ’63 when your brother Harry was still alive. What a great magician he was. But you two still put on a pretty darn good show.”
Everyone turned as Caesar entered and strutted down the aisle accompanied by his theme song. Touching his curled fingertips to his lips, he blew a kiss to the audience. “
Buon giorno
, welcome to
Flirting With Food
.” I’m Chef Caesar Romano.” The vigorous clapping nearly drowned out his words. “Today I have the pleasure of introducing a young lady with a hot name from the frozen North. Let’s hear a round of applause for my new assistant, Miss Chili Pepper, all the way from Juneau, Alaska!” The audience responded on cue. He gestured to Chili, who beamed with the sparkling smile she’d been practicing all week.
A young woman behind Goldie whispered to her friend, “Oh wow. That redhead is gorgeous. A lot classier than Candy Vanderloop.”
“Yeah, she was crazy to leave Romano.” her friend replied, “He’s sooo sexy.”
The chef continued in a rich baritone, “This girl really knows her stuff. She comes to us straight from the cruise ship
Aurora Borealis
. Let’s welcome her to sunny Southern California.” The studio resounded with applause.
“Today, to make Chili feel right at home, we’re preparing Iceberg Salad with Roasted Red Pepper Vinaigrette, Poached Alaska Wild Salmon with Saffron, and for dessert—what else? Baked Alaska!” The audience clapped and whistled.
For the next several minutes Chili helped Romano whisk the balsamic vinegar, garlic and olive oil for the salad, cut the top quarter off the tomatoes and scoop out the seeds. Then she stood by as he tossed the baby greens with the dressing and artfully arranged them in each tomato like bouquets in a vase.
She helped prepare the stock for the salmon and sliced paper-thin semi-circles of lemon for Romano to garnish the bright fillets. As he removed the duplicate dish that had been baked in advance from the oven, Chili drizzled some of the saffron sauce on the plates before he placed a fillet on each one.
Flossie leaned close to Goldie. “Doesn’t our little Sweetpea look like she was born for the stage?”
Goldie nodded, momentarily forgetting her concern for Chili’s safety. “She sure does, Mom. I’m so proud of her.”
Chili glowed with excitement and Romano was at his best...suave, handsome and definitely in charge. They were a good team. Everything was clicking.
This was turning into one of the best segments in the history of the show. With a theatrical flourish Romano lit the Baked Alaska as the audience oohed and aahed.
A split second later the creatively arranged pears ringing the platter erupted in a volcanic explosion, shooting flames five feet in the air and frizzling Romano’s eyebrows. Ice cream lava rolled off the platter and the startled cameraman managed to catch an image of Chili with her red hair haloed in flames. As smoke alarms blared, the sprinkler system rained down torrents of water drenching the studio and everyone in it.
Caesar was punching at the air in disgust and bellowing, “Wellington! It’s him again. I’ll finish him. I’ll crush him! This is war!”
Godiva restrained Goldie from rushing to the stage to check on her baby, “She’ll be fine, just watch,” she said pointing at her niece.
Chili’s theatrical genes kicked in as she stepped up to the plate and looked directly into the camera, grinning. “Um, like, Wow! I know this is supposed to be like a tribute to my home state, but man, these sprinklers are worse than the rain in Juneau!”
Everyone in the studio laughed. When she saw Romano following Chili’s lead, Goldie finally began to relax. “Please remain calm, ladies and gentlemen. You are not in danger. I suspect we can thank the Aerobic Chef for the fireworks.” He raised a fist to the camera. “It will be a duel to the death when we meet in the Kitchen Coliseum!” Water dripped off his hair and moustache. He beat his soggy chest. “I, Romano, will always reign as the Greatest Gourmet Gladiator of them all!”
Applause burst forth. The audience began chanting “RO-MAN-O...RO-MAN-O” as the camera crew panned the sodden cooking equipment and bedraggled fans. “Pretty Boy” Romano had just issued the ultimate challenge to Biff “The Hulk” Wellington in front of a live TV audience. Viewers all over the world would see it. Goldie had to hand it to Romano. He’d taken a potential disaster and turned it into publicity stunt gold.
As soon as the cameras stopped rolling, Torch dashed up to the set and spooned some samples of the incinerated Baked Alaska into a napkin. Flossie was trying to sign a soggy piece of paper thrust under her nose by Edith, the old fan, who complained that the deluge had washed away her autograph. Sterling joined Romano and the floor director in an effort to calm everyone down.
Godiva elbowed her way past Goldie who just stood there dripping and stunned. “Oh honestly”, she said wringing out her once gorgeous dress, “this studio is wrecking my wardrobe.”
“I’m sorry about your dress,” Goldie said looking down at her waterlogged jacket and Godiva’s sagging silk skirt. “I should have known something would go wrong. After all, Chili was starting the show with Mars on her Moon. That always means aggravation and what am I going to tell Red? When he sees the show, he’ll probably want Chili to leave and go back to safe little Juneau.
That evening in Godiva’s comfortable family room everyone, including Romano, waited to see if the ferocious flambé made the evening news. Sure enough, the image of Chili standing in front of the exploding Baked Alaska with flames seeming to radiate from her red hair became the highlight of a slow news day.