The Key Ingredient Read Online Free PDF Page B

moments I hope to find for the show, when something unexpected and utterly charming presents itself. I can picture exactly how I would film and edit the scene, scoring it to highlight the farmer’s surprise and delight when he tastes the fruits of his labor.
    Now, as we’re muddling through today’s filming, I’m not sure about anything. A feeling of devastation curls around my heart.
    Martin is taking a break at the catering table now, chatting with the local caterer contracted to keep the crew fed during the shoot. The two women aren’t much younger than I am, yet they seem like children as they babble and practically faint in the presence of Martin Harlow.
    Although I’m standing nearby, they don’t even see me. During filming, if you’re not the star or director, you’re invisible. So I just hang around and observe. By now, I’m used to Martin’s good looks and charm, but I do remember seeing him for the first time and being struck by his Texas-­born-­and-­bred handsomeness and the utterly magnetic pull of his charm when he makes eye contact with you and smiles.
    â€œI’m always starving after a long trip,” he confesses to the catering girls. “This spread looks amazing.”
    There’s an urn of fresh coffee from a local roaster and a tray of caramelized delicata squash with burrata cheese lightly drizzled in balsamic, an abundant bread basket, smoked trout and a salad of organic greens.
    I’ve always believed hunger can mean different things. Sometimes you’re just hungry, like after cardio training. That’s when you crave carbs—­fettucini covered in parm, pommes Anna made with paper-­thin potato slices, butter and herbs, or salted rosemary sourdough with a wedge of cheese.
    Then there’s the hunger that can’t be filled by food. The cravings of the heart and spirit are not so easily satisfied.
    One of the caterers talks about her studies at the U in Burlington. “I’m a nursing major,” she says. “I want to specialize in critical care.”
    â€œWow. Makes my job sound pretty lightweight in comparison.” Self-­effacing charm. That’s his specialty.
    â€œYou’ve got millions of fans on YouTube who’d disagree with that,” she says. “That’s why I signed up for working this event. I wanted to meet you in person.”
    â€œHey, really? You don’t say. That’s cool.” The aw-­shucks delivery is totally natural. Back when we first met, I couldn’t get enough of it. I still can’t, come to think of it.
    â€œI’ve been checking out the show’s website. I love the whole concept behind it, the way you’ll be highlighting the key ingredient of each episode and building the story around it.” She’s almost but not quite gushing. Is gushing even allowed on set?
    â€œThat’s our special sauce,” he says, appropriating a phrase I’d used in pitching the show to the production company. “We’re hoping it will become the thing that sets us apart from all the other stuff that’s out there. Glad you like it.”
    â€œIt’s great. It’s going to be so different from run-­of-­the-­mill cooking shows.”
    â€œI’m all about keeping it fresh,” he declares. His assistant comes over and steals him to get him miked up again for filming.
    The caterers keep talking.
    â€œ . . . almost instantly became a YouTube sensation,” one of them says. “That’s what I heard. With looks like that, you don’t have to wonder why he got so many views.”
    The caterers have no idea I’m the show’s creator, so they speak freely in front of me. They don’t even seem to notice me. I’m a ghost.
    â€œ . . . those videos online. They’re addictive, aren’t they?” says one of them.
    â€œWhat I heard was that some talent scout spotted the