A Batter of Life and Death Read Online Free
Author: Ellie Alexander
Tags: Fiction, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, cozy
chills.
He placed his phone on the table. “Jules, this is your lucky day.”
I raised an eyebrow. “How so?” I’d met plenty of charmers like Philip during my time on the ship and growing up in a community centered around the stage. It was going to take more than a dazzling smile for me to trust his motives. A warning voice sounded in my head. Proceed with caution, Jules.
His phone buzzed. He reached down to silence it. “I’ll let that go. You, my dear, are my top priority at the moment.”
I could feel my muscles tense. Whenever people are overtly complimentary I get suspicious.
“We had a last-minute scheduling glitch,” Philip said, with his hand covering his phone. I wondered if this was to stop himself from looking at it. “One of our Take the Cake contestants had to drop out. I believe you know him—Jed Cellars.”
Jed Cellars was the head pastry chef at the Ashlander, the nicest hotel in town. However, it was currently operating without anyone in its dining room. Not because of the dwindling tourists, but because they’d had a huge kitchen fire last week, and the restaurant was currently shut down.
“Of course I know Jed.”
“Then you heard about the fire?”
I nodded.
“We need someone to take his place. He’s too involved in getting his kitchen up and running again.”
I felt terrible for Jed. Recovering from a total kitchen demolition was no small task.
Phillip continued. “This is a boutique show, and I need a boutique chef like you. We’re not a major production like some of the other junk the network likes to put out.”
“A boutique chef?” I raised my brow. “I’m not sure what that means.”
He removed his hand from his phone and began gesturing as he spoke. “The network likes to put on these competitions with glorified home bakers as the contestants. You know, a ‘chef’ who owns a drive-through coffee shop. Please. ” He rolled his eyes.
“They let twelve, maybe twenty people compete. Most of them can’t even boil water. Take the Cake is filmed on location, in a stunning town, with only the crème de la crème of pastry chefs. It’s an expensive production, which means we handpick five of the best chefs in the country. Each week one person will get voted out by the judges, until we come to the final episode where we’ll crown a new winner.”
“Okay.” I’m sure I sounded skeptical.
Philip didn’t seem to notice. He studied me. “How tall are you?”
“Five eight. Why?”
He knocked on the table. “That’s what I thought.” Sneaking a look at his phone, he shook his head and turned it upside down. “Jules, has anyone ever told you that you have the look for television?”
“No.” I wrinkled my nose. Wow, he was really laying it on thick.
“Oh, but you do.” He reached over and turned my face to the side. “Those cheekbones are to die for. Do you know how many actresses would kill for your bone structure?”
I stepped away from him, and shook my head. Praising my appearance wasn’t going to help his cause, nor was invading my personal space. I wished he would just get to his pitch, and stop trying to butter me up.
Philip stared at my hair. “Is that color natural? It’s so blond.”
I nodded. Where is this going?
“I can see that you’re unsure. Hear me out.” He steadied his gaze on me. “I want you, Juliet Capshaw, to be a contestant on the show. It’s perfect. In the biz we call it a synchronistic opportunity. This was meant to be. You’ll win viewers over the moment they see you, and you can bake!” Philip practically bounced in his seat. “Plus there’s a twenty-five-thousand-dollar prize and major network contract for the winner—we’re talking your own show, cookbooks, magazines, and appearances on morning talk shows. You could be a real star, Jules.”
“Uh, let’s slow down here. TV’s not really my thing.”
His phone buzzed again. “Listen, I have to take this call. You wait right here. But you should know
He placed his phone on the table. “Jules, this is your lucky day.”
I raised an eyebrow. “How so?” I’d met plenty of charmers like Philip during my time on the ship and growing up in a community centered around the stage. It was going to take more than a dazzling smile for me to trust his motives. A warning voice sounded in my head. Proceed with caution, Jules.
His phone buzzed. He reached down to silence it. “I’ll let that go. You, my dear, are my top priority at the moment.”
I could feel my muscles tense. Whenever people are overtly complimentary I get suspicious.
“We had a last-minute scheduling glitch,” Philip said, with his hand covering his phone. I wondered if this was to stop himself from looking at it. “One of our Take the Cake contestants had to drop out. I believe you know him—Jed Cellars.”
Jed Cellars was the head pastry chef at the Ashlander, the nicest hotel in town. However, it was currently operating without anyone in its dining room. Not because of the dwindling tourists, but because they’d had a huge kitchen fire last week, and the restaurant was currently shut down.
“Of course I know Jed.”
“Then you heard about the fire?”
I nodded.
“We need someone to take his place. He’s too involved in getting his kitchen up and running again.”
I felt terrible for Jed. Recovering from a total kitchen demolition was no small task.
Phillip continued. “This is a boutique show, and I need a boutique chef like you. We’re not a major production like some of the other junk the network likes to put out.”
“A boutique chef?” I raised my brow. “I’m not sure what that means.”
He removed his hand from his phone and began gesturing as he spoke. “The network likes to put on these competitions with glorified home bakers as the contestants. You know, a ‘chef’ who owns a drive-through coffee shop. Please. ” He rolled his eyes.
“They let twelve, maybe twenty people compete. Most of them can’t even boil water. Take the Cake is filmed on location, in a stunning town, with only the crème de la crème of pastry chefs. It’s an expensive production, which means we handpick five of the best chefs in the country. Each week one person will get voted out by the judges, until we come to the final episode where we’ll crown a new winner.”
“Okay.” I’m sure I sounded skeptical.
Philip didn’t seem to notice. He studied me. “How tall are you?”
“Five eight. Why?”
He knocked on the table. “That’s what I thought.” Sneaking a look at his phone, he shook his head and turned it upside down. “Jules, has anyone ever told you that you have the look for television?”
“No.” I wrinkled my nose. Wow, he was really laying it on thick.
“Oh, but you do.” He reached over and turned my face to the side. “Those cheekbones are to die for. Do you know how many actresses would kill for your bone structure?”
I stepped away from him, and shook my head. Praising my appearance wasn’t going to help his cause, nor was invading my personal space. I wished he would just get to his pitch, and stop trying to butter me up.
Philip stared at my hair. “Is that color natural? It’s so blond.”
I nodded. Where is this going?
“I can see that you’re unsure. Hear me out.” He steadied his gaze on me. “I want you, Juliet Capshaw, to be a contestant on the show. It’s perfect. In the biz we call it a synchronistic opportunity. This was meant to be. You’ll win viewers over the moment they see you, and you can bake!” Philip practically bounced in his seat. “Plus there’s a twenty-five-thousand-dollar prize and major network contract for the winner—we’re talking your own show, cookbooks, magazines, and appearances on morning talk shows. You could be a real star, Jules.”
“Uh, let’s slow down here. TV’s not really my thing.”
His phone buzzed again. “Listen, I have to take this call. You wait right here. But you should know