A Taste of Fame Read Online Free Page B

with beer and French fries. They called themselves Team Gators and were from somewhere in Florida. Also included was Team Hollywood, a bunch of beauties dressed like starlets. They served elegant but strange and tiny appetizers. Mysteriously, they were the only group that got high marks from Brant. And last but not least was Team Café Mocha, a group of housewives who specialized in soups, coffee, and coffee-flavored desserts.
    The hour passed quickly, and in the final moments, Gianne showed each team’s highlights with individualized phone numbers so the viewers could vote. “America, voting will be open for the next hour. Tune in next week to see which eight teams remain in the competition. If your favorite team is chosen, we’re flying to location to tape the results of their next great party challenge on their own home turf. Tune in for the results. Good night, America, and bon appétit.”
    I began to rapidly dial one of the numbers on the screen while Evie tried to stop me. “Honestly, Donna, you don’t want us to make next week’s show, do you?”
    “No way,” I said. “I’m calling to support Team Batter Up.”
    “Hold it, everyone,” Lisa Leann said. “And hold your phone calls. I have more news.”
    “Now what?” Evie asked.
    “Did you hear what Gianne said? If we make it through this round, we’ll have a film crew from Stirring Productions in town on Thursday, that’s in two days. Kat, the producer, is going to call me here, in an hour, to tell us if we made the cut and to tell us what the showdown challenge will be.”
    “Oh, dear,” Vonnie said. “Do you think we’ll make it through this round?”
    “Maybe. And girls, remember, if we win this thing, Team Potluck can sponsor the church building fund. Let’s do this for a good cause. Agreed?”
    The girls mumbled an agreement while Goldie said, “Well, Lisa Leann, I’m for supporting the church. Who knows? Maybe something good will come from this fiasco.”
    Lisa Leann nodded. “That’s the spirit!”
    Evie snorted, but before she could comment, I asked, “What now?”
    Lisa Leann replied, “Now we wait for the phone to ring.”

Evangeline
    4
Party Plans
    It had been a full sixteen hours since my premiere on The Great Party Showdown , and I still could not get over Lisa Leann’s … what’s the word I want to use here … bravado at entering our small but successful company as contestants. Who does she think she is, anyway? The president?
    Okay. She is the president. The president of the catering company, but not the Potluck Club itself. That puppy belongs to me. Well, the club doesn’t belong to me, but the presidency does. After all, I’m the one who—years ago—came up with the idea for the prayer group. A tiny little fact everyone seems to be forgetting, which I brought up to my husband Vernon on Wednesday.
    He stuck his fork into some scalloped potatoes piled alongside the tuna salad sandwich on his plate. “Not that you’ve had a prayer meeting in a while,” he said, then quickly shot the fork of potatoes into his mouth.
    I froze in my seat at the kitchen table across from him, my tuna sandwich halfway to my gaping mouth. Returning the sandwich to one of my everyday plates, I said, “Well, of course we haven’t. What with Lisa Leann starting this catering business, keeping us busier than fans on a hot July afternoon, and Michelle’s wedding not two weeks ago and Goldie’s daughter having her baby and the big Summit View Fourth of July bash we worked ourselves silly at. Who has time to meet and pray?”
    Vernon took a long sip of iced tea before answering. “I just think you’ve let the core of your group get away from you.” Vernon’s baby blues widened, and he scratched his neck at the spot just under his full head of gray hair. “I’ve never been much of one for talking about my faith to the masses—you know that—but you women met every month no matter what for years. I can’t imagine anything getting