Read Delicious! for Free Online

them.
    “What happened to them?”
    “Jake paid them for their time, thanked them very much, and told them they wouldn’t be happy here.” She walked away. “Oh, yeah,” she called over her shoulder, “thanks for the anchovies.”
    “Did you even need them?”
    But she was gone.
    “No,” said a pretty cook with a heart-shaped face. “She’s got two jars in her refrigerator.” She had straight black brows sitting like dashes above widely spaced brown eyes, and they were raised now, as if she was trying to make up her mind. Then the brows relaxed and she held out her hand.
    “I’m Diana. Maggie would never tell you this, but after you left the shop, Sal called Jake. He told him you have an extraordinary palate. He said he didn’t know how Jake had found you, but he should not, under any circumstances, let you go. He said you belong here. Welcome to
Delicious!
”

Guaranteed
    “ D ID YOU GET THOSE APPROVED?” THE CREATIVE DIRECTOR WAS standing at my desk, staring critically at the daisies I’d bought at the corner deli.
    Richard Phillips was the most attractive man I’d ever met. His olive skin, emerald eyes, and chiseled cheekbones gave him the languid, unshaven arrogance of a model, but he wore quirky old clothes, which softened the impact of his beauty. The smile was even more effective; I watched warmth transform his face, taking him from sexy to sweet as it traveled from his mouth to his eyes.
    “Don’t you know we have rules about these things? Daisies in the Timbers Mansion …” His face was so serious, I couldn’t tell if he was teasing me.
    “Rules for daisies?”
    “Oh, yes. Martha Stewart has nothing on us.” He flicked his blue-black ponytail over one shoulder. “Stop looking at me like I’m speaking Martian.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “If you worked over at her book, you’d have to get every photograph and flower approved. You hadn’t heard?”
    “Even family pictures?”
    “Especially those.” Head cocked to one side, he was focused on the daisies again. “I mean, it’s true about Martha. I don’t think Jake would care if you stacked a pile of used tires on your desk. But now that you mention it”—he scribbled something on a piece of paper—“we
should
have standards.” He handed the paper over. “Call this number, ask for Sharon, and say you’re a friend of Sammy’s.”
    “The travel editor? I haven’t even met him yet.”
    “You will. He can’t stay in Marrakech forever. You’ll learn it never hurts to say you’re a friend of Sammy’s. He knows everybody, and everybody loves him.” He executed a lazy 360 around my little space; when he faced me again, he was holding the daisies. “Tell Sharon to send you something small and intriguing once a week. Put it on Jake’s expense account. He’ll never notice.” And he dropped the daisies in the trash.
    “I just bought those!” I protested.
    He wiggled his fingers at me and disappeared into Jake’s office. Diana had told me that everybody at the magazine had a crush on Richard, and not just because he was such a beautiful man. He was also talented and so calm that I found talking to him very easy.
    But I knew he was not for me. With a sister like mine, you learn to limit your expectations. Genie had star power even when we were children, and by the time I was a teenager, every guy we ever met was so busy looking at her slanting violet eyes and curly blond hair they barely noticed me. She and Richard would make a dazzling couple; I was picturing it when the phone began to ring.
    “Jake Newberry’s office. May I help you?”
    “I’m looking for the recipe for my mother’s famous coffee cake,” the caller began. “I’m pretty sure it came from an issue in the fifties. It was very rich and contained a lot of nuts.”
    “What kind of nuts?” I asked.
    “Maybe pecans,” she replied. “And there might have been a layer of marzipan running through it? Or maybe I’m remembering that wrong. But it