Page 61 of The Kitchen Contract

“I think I could eat this every day,” I tell her. “Even if I have to add another extra workout to my week.”

“Bless your heart,” she deadpans. “It must be so tough to have someone make you delicious homemade food all the time.”

“It’s a trial, but life is full of those,” I say solemnly. “It’s just a matter of pushing through and not losing your joy.”

She rolls her eyes so hard I’m afraid she’s going to fall over. “I think what you meant to say is ‘Thank you for this tasty dinner, Nora.’”

I put my bowl down and reach for her hand, looking deeply into her eyes with exaggerated intensity. “You’re right. I greatly appreciate you feeding me, Rose. How will I ever thank you for your hospitality?”

She flutters her eyelashes at me and leans closer, setting her bowl down next to mine. “I can think of one or two ways.”

34

NORA

What is it about phone calls that is so intimidating? I’ve been busy all morning cleaning, baking, running errands—anything I can think of to keep from dealing with the voicemail I mentioned to Alex last night. I am intrigued, though, because why would anyone be calling about the show? When I’m finally out of excuses and pushing up against the time I need to leave for work, I dial the number and wait.

“Miles Brenner speaking.”

“Hi, Mr. Brenner, this is Nora Beckham returning your call.”

“Nora! So glad you got my message. And please call me Miles.” I can’t determine much about this man from his voice. He sounds neither young nor old and doesn’t have any kind of distinctive accent.

“I bet you’re wondering why I called you yesterday,” Miles continues. “I’ll cut straight to the chase. I saw a few episodes of your show online, and I think you and your partner have a good thing going. I want to be a part of it. Have you two ever considered being on television?”

“Television?” I repeat.

“Yes, television. Specifically, a cooking show.” He doesn’t seem bothered by my one-word response. “I think you two and your concept have a lot of potential. Your audience seems to like your chemistry, and I like the way you give instructions for your recipes. It’s simple and easy for people to understand and follow along at home.”

“Th-thank you. That’s exactly what we were going for.” I pause for a second, trying to catch up. Surely he didn’t contact me just to tell me he liked our show. “But I’m still not sure I understand why you called.”

“I want to talk about the possibility of moving From Couch to Potatoes from YouTube to a network or cable TV channel. Is that something you and Alex would be interested in?”

My mouth drops open, and I sit in frozen silence. Be on TV? Me and Alex? And our little show?

“Nora, are you still there?”

“Yes, yes,” I stammer. “I’m still here. I’m just not sure what to say.”

“Well, don’t say anything yet. I’ll do the talking for a minute, and then you can tell me what you think.” Miles goes on to explain that he works as a TV producer and that he’d like to pitch the idea for our show, with us as the hosts, to a handful of network executives. If the pitch garners enough interest, we might be offered a provisional contract, at which point Alex and I would go to L.A. and shoot a pilot episode.

“So tell me, how does that sound?”

My mind is racing as I try to wrap my head around everything he just said. “I’m not sure, to be honest with you. It kind of sounds too good to be true.”

“Just keep in mind,” he says, “this isn’t a sure thing. There are still a lot of hurdles that would need to be cleared before you would have a running TV show. But I think it’s a good idea, which is why I reached out to you for permission to try pitching your concept.”

My instinct is to shout “Yes!” but I hold back. I clear my throat and focus on being my most professional self. “I am interested in your proposal,” I tell him. “But I would need to discuss it with my partner before going any further. Could you send the information we discussed today to my email so I can show it to him this week and get his opinion?”

“Certainly. I’m glad you’re open to considering it.”

I give Miles Brenner my email address and promise to get back to him in a few days. I hang up the phone and let it drop to the couch beside me.

Well, that was unexpected.

Just yesterday I was thinking how great it would be to turn the show into a full-time job and now this? It doesn’t seem real.

I glance at my watch and jump to my feet. That call took longer than I anticipated and even leaving right now, I might still be late for work. I send up a prayer for light traffic and dash out the door.

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