“And an auto shop?”
Zoe smiled. “Miller’s Auto has been there for as long as I remember.”
“It sounds charming.” Felix found another strapless dress and handed both to the woman waiting in the wings. “Why did you leave?”
She took another sleeved gown off the rack, glanced at the price tag. She turned it around and showed it to Felix. “Because I would never have been able to afford this if I had stayed.”
He couldn’t argue that.
“Tell me more about Miss Gina’s kitchen. Can we bring a film crew in?”
Zoe dropped her hands to her sides. “What are you getting at, Felix?”
“I hate this state. And I think the industry can use another hometown cooking show. If we brought the world to the kitchen you grew up in—”
“The kitchen I grew up in was a dump,” she interrupted.
“Okay, the kitchen you learned to love cooking in . . . I think we could have something there. A bed-and-breakfast is more intimate than a big urban restaurant. Plenty of charm.”
She stopped shopping and stared.
“I’ve already blown the idea past Newton.”
Newton was the producer of her current show and the man she and Suki negotiated with on an annual basis.
“You did what?”
“Don’t sound so stressed, darling. He liked the idea but made it clear he’d film you wherever you wanted to cook. He did suggest you consider a bed-and-breakfast cookbook if we filmed in River Bend.”
“A cookbook?” Was she hearing all this straight?
“Why not? You’re a chef. It’s a natural.”
The saleslady took the dress from her hands. “Are you ready to try any of these on?”
“A cookbook!” She imagined the inn on the cover, her picture on the back.
Miss Gina would have guests lining up.
The thought of the cookbook paying back the woman for all she’d done for her over the years dwarfed the idea of it doing something for her own career.
“A cookbook.”
Chapter Fourteen
It was easy to spring for a suite in Vegas when Zoe knew many of the celebrity chefs in town.
She and the girls took a room at the Venetian, while the men parked themselves at Caesars. The hotels weren’t that far apart, but with thousands of guests walking around, it would be close to impossible for them to cross paths.
Mel’s brother, Mark, flew down from Seattle to join Wyatt and Luke.
A welcome basket of fruit and wine sat on the coffee table in the sitting room of their suite, compliments of Chef Owen, whose name was given to one of the restaurants on the canal linking several of the casinos together. Along with the wine was the offering of dinner and drinks, complimentary, of course.
“It’s crazy,” Zoe said, setting aside the note that came with the wine. “When I couldn’t afford a meal, no one was willing to pay, now that I can, everyone wants to treat me.”
Jo pulled a fresh strawberry out of the mix and nibbled the end. “I like your friends.”
Mel stood before the open blinds overlooking the Vegas strip. “This view is spectacular.”
Zoe pulled up space beside her friend and draped an arm over her shoulders. “After the year you’ve had, you deserve it.”
Mel placed her head on Zoe’s shoulder and thanked her without words.
Jo slipped in, a hand on Zoe’s other shoulder. “So what are we going to do first?”
Zoe turned and removed the bottle of champagne chilling in the bucket. “A toast.”
She ripped the foil from the bottle and gently pulled the cork, not spilling a drop before filling glasses.
“To Wyatt and Mel?” Jo asked.
Zoe shook her head. “No, there’s time for that next month. Tonight is about us.” Zoe lifted her glass and the others followed suit. “We didn’t do too bad. I have a feeling the best is yet to come.”
Jo clicked her glass to Mel’s, and Zoe pushed in.
“To us!” Mel drank first, then let out a huge squeal. “We’re in Vegas!”
“This is going to be so much fun.”
Zoe glanced at her watch and set her glass down. “Okay, ladies. Our day is about to begin. Grab your purses.”
Jo looked at Mel. “Where are we going?”
“The spa! Duh!”
Mel squealed again and beat them to the door.
“I’ll take the couch.” Mark dropped his bag on the floor after walking past the two double beds in the room.
Luke offered a weak protest. “You don’t have to. I can—”
“Bad back. It’s better for me.”
Wyatt shoved his bag on a bed and opened the minibar. He pulled out three beers and handed them around. “I haven’t been here in years.”
“I can beat that!” Luke had always wanted to go but never found the time or the playmates. He opened a basket on the side table that had his name on the tag.
“What’s that?”
He dug through the wrapping and found a bottle of Irish whiskey, several bags of nuts, and gourmet crackers along with a note. Zoe tells me you’ve never been to Vegas. Here is a card to get you into the players club. Tell them Felix sent you. And remember, it’s not Vegas if you’re sober. Drink up!
“I like Zoe’s friends.”
Wyatt removed the whiskey and ditched his beer. “Now we’re talking.”
“What’s on the agenda, gentlemen?”
Luke lifted the get into the club card. “Gambling or strip club?”
Mark’s eyes lit up. “Yes and yes!”
“Oh, my God! This is amazing.” Mel’s muffled words drifted through the room where all three of them lay facedown on massage tables while masseuses removed all the tension of their flights.
“Miss Gina needs to offer this at the inn.”
Zoe lifted her face long enough to glance at Jo. “That’s not a bad idea.”
Zoe’s technician found a knot under her shoulder and she moaned.
“This is my first professional massage,” Mel told them.
“That’s a shame,” Jo’s tech said.
“Mine, too.”
“That’s just not right.” Here Zoe had less than of both them growing up and more experiences with some of the finer things in life than either of them.
“Where do you ladies live?”
Jo and Mel said River Bend at the same time.
Zoe explained in plain English. “Nowhere-ville Oregon.”
“I have to go to Waterville to get a pedicure,” Mel told them.
“I don’t bother,” Jo said.
“Pedicures are the best.”
“Only when you’re wearing open toed shoes,” Jo reminded her. “I wear boots.”
“Not this weekend, you’re not. Pedicures are next, and if you don’t have shoes, we’re going shopping.”
Jo huffed.
“I don’t want to hear it. Little black dresses and men we don’t know buying our drinks.”
Zoe’s tech spoke up. “Sounds like one of you knows how to do Vegas.”
“They’ll learn.”
“Men slip shit into drinks,” Jo warned.
“You let them pay for drinks, Jo . . . but you don’t let them hand the drinks to you.” Zoe had been around the block a few times. “Besides, you’re the only one of us bound to pick up someone tonight.”
“I wanna see that,” Mel said.
“You should have seen the guy in Dallas. He was hot,” Zoe told her.
“He certainly was!”
Jo had them laughing and talking about dick size.
The technicians snickered and kept their comments to themselves.