Page 16 of Red Mountain Burning
8
Margot’s Last Stand
One thing about Margot and diets: she liked to go out in style. Her diets were always a cold-turkey kind of thing, wake up one morning and go. But first, she had to enjoy one last day of pure hedonism, a way to shake all her urges out of the tree. Today was Margot’s last stand before 166 days of unsatisfied temptation.
Remi was down at his place but had promised her he’d be back by noon to join her in this day of debauchery. It was eleven now. Already full of food ideas, Margot walked into her kitchen, tied on an apron, and got started. Her world could be divided up into two camps: sweet and savory. She couldn’t have one without the other—at least, not on this most special day. And how could she possibly kick off a diet without her deep fryer? The savory portion of today’s gluttony would begin with Champagne andpommes frites, which already set her up for the “sweet” decision. Since the fryer was out, why not do mini doughnuts? Oh God, how gluttonous could one girl be?
Well, potatoes and doughnuts were just the beginning. As with all her last stands (and there had been more than a few), she’d make sure they had enough food to munch on all day long, whenever the mood struck. Why not cheese and chocolate too? How about deviled eggs? Oh, was that gelato in the freezer?
Margot had made mini doughnuts so many times in her life that she’d memorized the recipe. Once the dough was ready, she covered it in cellophane to let it rise. Sadly, she hadn’t soaked potatoes for thefritesovernight, but that was okay. She could at least soak them for a little while to extract some of the starch. She ran the russet potatoes through her french fry attachment on the food processor, marveling as it easily cut out the perfect shape for bistrofrites. Then she dropped them in a saltwater bath so they’d at least have a chance of crisping to perfection.
Taking her favorite vintage breadboard off the pot rack, she went to work on a cheese plate. Having stocked the kitchen in the inn the day before, she had an abundance of cheeses from cow and sheep milk. She cut off chunks of a Cotswold from the UK, a surprisingly delicious vegan smoked cashew cheese from Oregon, and aChallerhockerfrom Switzerland, which all of her guests at the inn had loved.
To accompany the cheese, Margot searched the fridge shelves for ideas. Finding the bunch of radishes Remi had bought, she washed and dried them, then dipped their tips in tempered butter, finishing them with a pinch of black Cyprus salt flakes. Once they were on the board with the butter hardening, she added a few dried Red Mountain apricots from Remi’s harvest last year, some homemade pickles, and a handful of pecans and walnuts. She found some chickpeas in a Ziploc bag that hadn’t been blended into hummus yet, so she took a couple of handfuls, mixed them with olive oil and herbs, and tossed them in the oven on 400 degrees. The ideas kept coming until the board started to look embarrassing.
Just as she was setting a pink Champagne from Duval-Leroy into a bucket of ice, Remi came walking in, right on time. Entering the kitchen area, he looked at their feast. “Oh, I didn’t realize we were hosting the entire mountain today. Are they all climbing in bed with us?”
He reached for a radish, but Margot slapped his hand. “No, sir. I want you showered before you touch me or any of my food.” She turned on the fryer to the left of the stove, then said, “Meet me in bed in fifteen?”
* * *
By the timeRemi walked out of the bathroom in his robe, Margot had gotten the dogs comfortable on their beds with homemade treats, and she’d set two trays of food in the middle of the four-poster, king-sized bed.
Remi’s wet hair was combed back, and he’d shaved again, his face shining. He looked at the cheese plate and then the tray holding thefritesand doughnuts. “I think you should go on diets more often.”
“Ha, ha,” she said slowly.
Once they’d climbed into bed and shared a toast, Remi asked about their honeymoon. “Are you still thinking Europe?”
As she sipped her pink bubbles, Margot saw a vision of the two of them strolling hand in hand along the Seine at sunset, the Eiffel Tower lit up above them. Then again, a gondola in Venice sounded just as nice. Not that she’d be against a resort in the Caribbean—with their own infinity pool up on a cliff looking out over the crystal-clear water.
“I can’t decide,” she admitted. “How much can we get done in two weeks?”
“Is that all? I was thinking we’d go for months.”
“Two weeks during harvest is already going to be a lot on Adriana.” She popped an apricot into her mouth, thinking how lucky she was to have Adriana at all. A year ago, she couldn’t have left the mountain for longer than an hour without things falling apart.
Remi dipped afriteinto a Dijonmustard that Margot ordered from France by the bucket. “I think she’ll be just fine. You know, Amber and I didn’t even go on a honeymoon. I had to be in Portland the day after our wedding for a meeting, and then we just never got around to it. I will not let the same thing happen to us.”
Margot broke afritein half and tossed it down to the dogs. “There’s something so romantic about France. You and I could get in a lot of good trouble in Paris.”
“I like good trouble.”
Fifteen minutes and one glass of Champagne later, Margot took the remote control off the bedside table. “We’d better get started. I have the perfect movie.”
“Hallmark, I hope,” Remi said. “I’msooooo,soooootired of CIA operatives hunting down terrorists. Who wants to sit on the edge of their seat? Give me a drama-free happily ever after that will keep me guessing all the way through the opening—and I do meanopening—credits.”
“Are you done?” she asked, unable to suppress her smile. What could be better than a lazy day with Remi Valentine?
“I don’t know why Hallmarkmoviesdon’t win more Oscars,” he said, apparently still full of sarcasm. “That last one we watched…what was it?”
“A Kiss Forever?”
“That’s the one. How did that not win best film of the year? I’m talking about riveting, tour-de-force performances that really affected me. Deep down. I’m still shook up.”
Margot rolled her eyes. “You’re so mean. I do think you’ll like this one, though.”
Navigating the screen, she found the one she wanted. “Here it is.A Romance in the Vines.”
