The Recipe Box by Sandra Lee

Author:Sandra Lee [LEE, SANDRA]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction / Contemporary Women, Fiction / General, Fiction / Family Life
ISBN: 9781401304799
Publisher: Hachette Books
Published: 2013-07-02T04:00:00+00:00

“I swear to God I’m going to kill Artie right here and right now,” Ken fumed. If he were a cartoon character, Grace thought, smoke would have been coming out of the top of Ken’s head. “Our esteemed, Emmy-winning director can join the undead because I’m gonna put a stake through his nonexistent heart.”

Grace was busy making notes in the production book, synchronizing it with the script changes. It was her job to make sure that the set notes were up to date and complete, including any last-minute changes. “What now?”

“I’ll tell you what’s now. Give me that script,” Ken said. “You see these three pages? Scene six? The one we spent all morning setting up?”

Grace nodded.

Ken grabbed the pages and ripped them out of the script.

“Ken! My notes!”

He tossed the pages into a garbage can. “Won’t matter. Artie just called for an on-set rewrite of the entire scene. He’s changing everything. He’s decided the season premiere of The Lost Ones has to have more edge for the ratings. The writers are going nuts. They’re threatening to call the union. Well, we’re going to have to redo everything. He has this idea that the door opens, and as the vamps walk in, a freeze suddenly coats everything with a layer of ice. So we have like an hour to turn this entire set into the North Pole. What I wouldn’t give to be back in New London working on the Book Nook with Tim—something meaningful rather than this silly show.”

Grace knew Ken missed Tim and for the first time hadn’t looked forward to returning to LA. Artie’s outbursts weren’t helping Ken feel better about being home. Grace sighed. “And where do we find the prop ice?”

“That, Grace, is why I have an assistant—namely you. I’m going to deal with the A.D. You are going to create ice. Call Dairy Queen, for all I care. Just figure it out. Oh, and he wants a vulture. A white vulture, mind you, to sit on the Queen’s shoulder. Call that bird wrangler; he’s on my speed-dial. Do vultures even come in white? Oh my God, I’m going to kill him!” Ken continued to rant as he jumped into a golf cart and sped off across the set with Roberto at the wheel.

Instant ice. White vulture. Another day at the office. Grace located an acrylic ice source fairly quickly. The white vulture was another matter.

“You’re talking the Egyptian vulture here,” the bird wrangler said over the phone. “Check ’em out online. They’re indigenous to Egypt and Sri Lanka. They’re practically endangered. I have other vultures, but they’re turkey vultures. Turkey vultures are gray.”

“Can you spray paint them white?”

“You’ve got to be kidding. And by the way, they have a six-foot wingspan; they’re not going to sit on somebody’s shoulder.”

“Just asking, thanks.” Grace dreaded telling Artie she couldn’t find what he wanted. He never took that sort of thing well. Then she had an idea. She grabbed her iPad and pulled up some pictures to show him.

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