Just then, Allie and Roger come trudging down the stairs with all their equipment. “Thanks again for the interview, Lucy!” Allie calls out.
Paco barks happily as if he’s saying goodbye to them.
Tara watches them with a steely eye as they walk out The Bistro door. “What was that about?”
Sarah comes back into the dining area with a pot of coffee and a tray of muffins. “Lucy did an interview with The Whispering Bay Gazette,” she answers. “They took pictures and everything.”
Tara’s head snaps around to meet my gaze. “An interview?”
“Sure, what’s wrong with that?” I ask.
“What’s wrong with that is that your contract expressly forbids any press interviews without clearing it with the producers, aka me.”
“Good to know, but my interview wasn’t about the show.”
“So you didn’t mention the show at all?”
“Well … ” Rats. I did mention the show, but it was such a tiny part of the interview I didn’t think it would matter. I really don’t want to have to confess to Tara that I made a mistake, but I have no choice. “She asked me a few questions about the show, so I answered them, but it wasn’t—”
“Unbelievable!” Tara screeches. “You do know that what you’ve done is a breach of your contract? I should kick you off the show for this.”
It’s like someone lit a match inside me, making me go hot from the tips of my toes all the way up to my eyelids. It’s too much. It really is. No amount of publicity or prize money is worth putting up with Tara’s abuse.
“And I could kick you out of The Bistro. As a matter of fact,” I say, pointing to the front door, “Go! Go right now. I’m officially calling this meeting to an end.”
Paco barks as if to say, It’s about time!
Sarah makes a face.
Tara’s eyes bug out even more than normal, making her look like Susan Sarandon on steroids.
I glance around to see a room filled with stunned expressions. Even the camera guys seem shocked by my outburst, and Gilly appears as if she’s going to faint.
Uh-oh. I might have gone a little too far. But really? Has no one ever stood up to this tyrant?
&n
bsp; “Fine.” Tara sniffs. “If that’s the way you want it.” She turns to Gilly. “Obviously, I’m going to have to rethink The Bistro’s place in this competition.” She glares at the other competitors. “As for the rest of you, expect our cameras bright and early Monday morning.”
Chapter Three
Everyone except Sarah gets up to leave, mumbling their goodbyes. Juanita stops on her way out the door and takes my hand. “Lucy, get some sleep. You look tired, dear.”
Tired is an understatement. Why did I lose my temper with Tara? Sure, she’s the most annoying person on the planet, but that’s no excuse to practically get myself kicked off the show.
I wait till everyone has left. “I’m sorry,” I tell Sarah. “Don’t worry. I’ll apologize to Tara. I’ll make sure she doesn’t knock us out of the competition.”
“Maybe being knocked out of the competition would be for the best.”
“What? How can you say that?”
“Let’s face it, we only have a one in six chance to win, and we’re killing ourselves. At least, you’re killing yourself, and for what? We already have a thriving business. Sure, it would be great to win and be able to claim the title of Best Beach Eat in Whispering Bay, but—”
“What about the cash prize? I know you don’t need it, but I still owe Will money.”
When Sarah and I bought the place, I didn’t have enough for my share of the down payment, so I borrowed money from Will. I thought I’d be able to pay him back before now, but between my culinary school student loans and the big vet bill from when Paco was poisoned (that’s another story), I still haven’t been able to put a dent in what I owe him. And I hate owing anyone money. Especially Will.
“Lucy,” Sarah says gently, “I know you want to pay Will back, but he’s not in any hurry, is he?”