“On that note, I’m going downstairs for breakfast,” Amber says.
“Right behind you.” Dixie stands, looks over her shoulder at me. “You coming?”
“A little later. I’ve got to shower and practice my accent.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Kendall
I give a silent prayer for success and forgiveness as I dial my phone. It rings once. Twice…
“Nigel Cowie’s office,” a woman with a sharp British accent says.
Please let this work.
“Hello, this is Laney Albright. I’m so sorry to bother you, but I forgot where Nigel and I are having lunch today?” I deliver the words in my best Laney impersonation. I’ve drawn out my vowels, dropped my Rs and pronounced Ds instead of Ts.
“I don’t have you on his calendar.”
“It was last minute. I’m…heading out of town this afternoon, so he told me to swing by and join him, but I forgot the name of the restaurant.”
“Did you try his cell?”
“He didn’t pick up.” Please, please, please just give it up, lady. I sound exactly like Laney, if I do say so myself.
“Lunch today is at Tesse Restaurant.”
“Right. Tesse,” I repeat just to be sure I understood her. She hmms her agreement. I thank her, hang up, and quickly Google the restaurant. It’s on Sunset, not too far away. Yes!
This may be considered stalking, but it’s purely selfless, so that has to wipe out any inappropriateness. At least that’s what I tell myself as I drive to the restaurant. When I get there, I take a peek inside. Mr. Cowie is seated at a table with two other men.
Rather than bother them—I do have some scruples about this—I wait outside on the sidewalk. There’s no shade, so within minutes, sweat trickles down my sides and I wipe at my forehead. Lift my arm to shield my face from the bright sun. I hope my perspiration isn’t visible through my yellow sundress.
It feels like forever, but is probably more like twenty minutes, when the three businessmen exit the restaurant and step under the umbrella for the valet.
“Mr. Cowie?” I say on my approach. When his attention turns to me, I continue. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I was hoping you had a minute?”
“Kendall, is it?”
“Yes.” I’m relieved he remembers me. Or maybe I should be mortified because of all the recent media attention. Either way, I’ve got some things to say to him.
“Excuse me, gents,” he says to his companions.
“Thank you so much,” I tell him, grateful when he gestures for me to follow him back into the restaurant. I’m really doing this.
We’re immediately seated at a table for two. Nigel makes a motion with his hand to indicate we shouldn’t be bothered. “I expect you’ve got something on your mind,” he says.
“I think you made a mistake.”
“In regards to?”
“Vaughn Shaughnessy should be the next host of America Rocks. As you may remember, I’m a huge fan of the show and have watched it since the beginning. When Vaughn told me”—Nigel’s thick brows reach his hairline—“confidentially that he was being considered for the new host, I couldn’t have imagined anyone better. I don’t know if you saw his interview…” I trail off, hoping to collect some intel before I keep going.
“I didn’t see it live, but have since received and viewed a copy from his publicist. I’m bloody sorry, by the way. For your loss.”
“Thank you.” I look away for a moment in order to keep my composure. “I need to tell you Vaughn wasn’t completely honest in that interview.”
Nigel’s eyebrows rise again. “Is that so?”