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“Like we should be negotiating for more money.”
“Maybe I should suggest you do the episodes shirtless.”
“Don’t give them any ideas.” Ashton grimaced. “They’ll probably turn it into a bit. Stay tuned for the next segment when Chef Croft will burn off his shirt.”
“Well, you’d better get that restaurant of yours open in Vegas or you won’t have to worry about what they want you to wear.”
“Have you heard from the guys over at Phillips about the proposals I made regarding next season’s location?”
In addition to negotiating with the Lifestyle Network, he was in talks with Phillips Consolidated Networks for his seventh season of The Culinary Wanderer. They were pushing him to film next season in Africa. They’d reasoned that since he was South African, he would enjoy returning to the land of his birth. The exact opposite was true, but since he’d created an elaborate backstory that had nothing to do with his true history, he couldn’t provide an excuse strong enough to dissuade them.
“They rejected England immediately. Apparently your best ratings come when you are off the beaten track. The Indonesian stuff has been a huge hit with everyone who’s seen it.”
“What about South America? I could get six or seven episodes out of Brazil alone.”
“They said they’d consider it for next year.” Vince rolled a pen between his palms. “I think if you want to keep doing the show, it’s going to have to be Africa. Of course, that’s dependent on whether Lifestyle Network gives up on getting an exclusive on you.”
Frustration with the producers of The Culinary Wanderer had led him to talk to Lifestyle Network. He wanted to grow his career in a big way and the new show could do that. Becoming a household name would open a lot of doors. But it wasn’t where his heart lay. He’d never stop craving new adventures in exotic locations. It’s why he intended to find a way to do both. Being forced to choose between his passion and his ambition wasn’t an option.
“I really don’t want to go to Africa.”
“Come on. How bad can it be? You still have family there, don’t you?”
“Sure.” In fact, he had no idea if his parents were still alive. He hadn’t spoken to them since he left home at fifteen. A lot of bad things could happen in twenty years, especially in the sort of places his parents took their missionary work.
He heard the door open behind him and noticed the change in Vince’s demeanor. His manager sat forward in his desk chair and ran his fingers through his short sandy-blond hair. Glancing over his shoulder, Ashton noticed Harper had entered the room. She didn’t look happy.
“Gotta go, Vince. Keep in touch.” He ended the network connection and the monitor in the room went blank. “Thanks for letting me borrow your equipment. This is some nice stuff.”
“Chef Cole tells me he’s not going to be our head chef.”
“I offered him the job just like you wanted.”
“I wanted you to hire him.”
“He turned me down.” Ashton pushed his chair back from the conference table and stood up.
“So, now what?”
“You have me.”
“I need someone permanent. How long before you take off again?”
Next week, but in her current state of displeasure, he wasn’t going to mention that.
“Not to worry. I have someone I trust who I’ve been training. He arrives tomorrow.”
“Who is it?”
“I met Dae Tan a few months ago. Helped him out of a jam.”
“What sort of a jam?” Her skepticism came through loud and clear.
“He was arrested for something he didn’t do.”
“You’re sure he was innocent.”
“Absolutely. After that, things got a little hot for him. He’s been traveling with me and I’ve been training him.”
