Allie Blakefield
stormed into her father’s office. “What is the meaning of this memo?” She
slammed the offensive paper on her desk. Last week she’d submitted her plans
for the six issues starting in January. “Let me read the memo. “Good Eatin’
will have no good or bad words for Five Cuisines, a restaurant owned by the
Ramsey family.’”
Peter Blakefield
ran his hands through his thick blond hair where a few streaks of gray could
hardly be seen. “The memo is clear and you will honor the terms. There has been
bad blood between the families for generations.”
Allie laughed.
“Is this like the Hatfields and the McCoys?
I thought as editor of Good Eatin’ I make decisions about the
restaurants to be featured.”
“In this case
I’ve over-ruled you.” He leaned across the desk. “How was California?”
Allie’s hands
fisted. His change of subject rankled but she knew he’d told her all he planned
to say about the Ramsey family. She would discover a way to learn more.
“Warm. Some good
food and some bad. The restaurants have been selected and the photo shoots
arranged.” She curled in the chair across from his desk. “Why can’t I visit
Five Cuisines? I’ve heard dozens of raves from people who have eaten there.
Some family fight from years ago is a poor reason not to do a feature.”
“Forget that
restaurant. I made a similar decision fifteen years ago.”
She frowned.
Fifteen years ago her mother had been ill and had died. Back then her father
had edited Good Eatin’. He’d become editor in chief for all four magazines and
a single parent of four children. What else had happened then? Her curiosity
simmered but knew he wouldn’t tell her more. “I still want to scout the place.”
“I said no. Stop
pushing. Don’t you understand no means no.” He slapped the desk. “Have the
galleys for the next issue been proofed?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll see
you on Sunday for dinner.”
Allie rose and turned
toward the door. “I’m not sure I can make it.” Though Sunday dinners were a
family affair, usually one or more of her siblings were absent.
“Try.”
“Always do,” His
command followed her down the hall. She entered her office and slammed the
door. Vowing to learn more about her father’s reasons for meddling in her
territory she dialed her aunt’s number. When the older woman answered Allie
grinned. Time for questions and answers.
“Aunt Laura, what can you tell me about the Blakefield-Ramsey feud?”
Her aunt
laughed. “Why now? That ended when Victor died. His wife took their son to her
family in Europe. Never heard of them since.”
Allie leaned
back in her chair. She talked about the restaurant and the raves she’d heard
from people who had eaten there. “I want to feature the place. He forbade me to
go near Five Cuisines or do an article.”
Laura chuckled.
“So he waved a red flag and like a bull you’ll charge.”
“Yes, but I need
the facts.”
“I’ll tell you
as much as I can. Let me refresh my coffee.”
“Guess I’ll need
some.” Allie filled her cup.
“The feud began
over loyalties during the Revolutionary War. They were Royalists and we were
Rebels. There were ups and downs. All signs of the rivalry disappeared during
the Civil War.”
“So why now?”
This whole matter was ridiculous.
“Your dad and
Victor attended County
Day School. They were
rivals in sports and academics. This followed them to college where they fell
in love with the same woman. She and Peter were engaged but Victor married
her.”
Allie’s spine
stiffened. “What about Mom? Didn’t Dad love her? Did he marry her or the
magazines?”
Her aunt sighed.
“Peter married her on the rebound. They learned to value each other and I
believe he loved her. When she died he was devastated.”
“Nothing
explains today’s attitude about me doing a feature. The past can’t be changed.
Shouldn’t trouble the now.”
Laura’s voice
took on a knowing tone. “I know. This might give you a clearer picture. Several
months before your mom died Victor Ramsey lost his restaurant. He killed
himself. His wife blamed your father.”
Hearing the final bit didn’t make sense to Allie. “Thanks for the info.
Bye.” She hung up.
The situation belonged in the dark ages. She couldn’t see why Good Eatin’
couldn’t do a spread on the most unusual restaurant in the area. A dining spot
that produced raves by bloggers and reviews by customers intrigued her.
She clenched her
teeth. No matter what her father ordered she intended to visit the restaurant.
She leaned back in her chair and made a decision. She had some accumulated
vacation time. The latest edition was done and the next still being worked on.
This was a good time to take a few days. The thought of driving across the
bridge for five days in a row didn’t thrill her but she would unless she found
another way.
She booted her
computer and searched the employee base for someone who lived on the west bank
of the Hudson River. She found several, read
the names and tapped an extension. One of the names belonged to a good friend.
A deep voice answered.
“Steve, Allie
here. When do you leave for Alaska?”
“Tuesday
evening. Why?”
“Do you have a
guest room?”
“Yes.”
“Could I sack
out there for five nights while you’re away? I promise I won’t snoop.”
He chuckled.
“You I trust. You’re too direct to be a snoop. Meg’s the one who pries. What’s
up?”
“I want to check
Five Cuisines.”
“You’ll love the
restaurant. When you do I want to shoot the pics.”
“This is only a
preliminary look. Keep what I’m doing tucked away.”
“Will do. The
apartment is yours.”
“Just where is
your place?”
He gave her the
number. “Just a few blocks from your destination.”
“Perfect.”
“While you’re in
town wander around. There are some neat shops and several other good
restaurants.
“Sounds like
I’ll have a busy time. Where do I find the key?”
“I’ll drop it
off tomorrow and alert the doorman to your arrival,” he said. “Oh, I have a new
neighbor. He’s a good-looking guy. Just your type.”
“And just what
is my type?”
Steve laughed.
“Not me.”
“Which
apartment?”
“Directly below
mine. If you score, I want a finder’s fee. He seems to be the strong silent
type.”
She grinned.
“You’re outrageous. See you tomorrow.”
