The Perfect Dish Read Online Free PDF Page A

guy’s body language said he took his job seriously.
    He flipped through the pages on the clipboard. “I don’t see that name.” His eyes narrowed down to slits, and she got the distinct feeling he thought they were party-crashing groupies. What kind of groupies wore four hundred dollar shoes?
    She straightened her shoulders and held up the book she’d brought for Kelly’s sister so the mouth breather could get a good look at it. “ Dr . Meredith Black.”
    Barely glancing at the book, he checked his list again. “Sorry, don’t see it.”
    A slow, angry fuse lit inside her. If the chef had wanted her to come, why hadn’t he put her name on the guest list? If she’d gone through all this torturous primping for nothing, she would find a way to give him a piece of her mind.
    Viv leaned over and whispered in Meredith’s ear. “Didn’t the cowboy give you a card?”
    “Oh. Yes. Just a moment.” She dug through the matching bronze bag Viv insisted she buy and pulled out the card Kelly had written on. “Here.” She handed it to the doorman.
    He looked at the back of it. Tipping his hat, he stepped aside and opened the door. “Sorry for the inconvenience, ladies. Enjoy your evening.”
    Celia raised her brows so high they disappeared beneath her bangs. “What was on that card?”
    “Just his signature.” Meredith shrugged. “He probably hands those out to lots of women.” Younger, perkier women but undoubtedly shod in much cheaper footwear.
    Celia nodded. “Based on what I’ve read about him in the About Town sections of the paper, I’d say you’re right. He’s never photographed with the same girl twice.” Celia’s social status often put her in those columns, too, so she read them daily to keep up with the gossip.
    Inside, a server offered them glasses of sangria. Meredith passed, but the other girls helped themselves as they looked around. Tiny twinkling lights set in the indigo ceiling gave the impression of a vast night sky. Huge wrought iron stands held flickering tapers, washing the dusky purple and warm red walls with a soft glow. A sultry Spanish guitar softened the clink of glasses and buzz of voices. A warm, spicy scent promised delicious food not far away.
    “Something smells good,” Celia said, her gaze darting around the room. “This place is gorgeous.”
    “Celia, why don’t we mingle while Meredith delivers her book? Maybe we can find something to nibble on.” Viv said.
    “Great idea.” Celia headed for the crowd, but Viv held back. “Be sure to introduce me to Chef Spicer, won’t you? I feel a benefit coming on.”
    “Will do. Go have fun, I’ll find you.” Meredith waved as Viv went after Celia. Time to find the chef and his sister and get this over with.
    She wandered in search of the pair, but when things started to look familiar and she still hadn’t found them, she waved down a bartender. “Excuse me, could you tell me where Chef Spicer is? I’m supposed to give this book to his sister.”
    The man finished wiping out a glass. “He’s probably upstairs. Let me find out.”
    “Thank you.” A second floor? The place was bigger than it looked.
    The bartender hung up the phone. “Yep. He’s upstairs, in the VIP dining room.” The man pointed toward the way she’d come in. “Go back that way and take a right. Follow the hall to the end. There’s an elevator there. Tell the VIP hostess ‘tortilla’ and she’ll let you up.”
    “Tortilla?”
    The bartender gave her a lazy grin and shrugged. “I just work here.”
    She pushed back through the crowd, aware of the occasional male glance that raked over her low-cut neckline. The attention caught her off guard, jangling her nerves.
    The girl at the hostess stand greeted her with guarded smile. “Can I help you, ma’am?”
    “I think so,” she said, feeling a little silly. “I’m supposed to tell you tortilla.”
    Like magic, the girl’s grin turned genuine. “Let me call the elevator for you, ma’am.”