“Lucky bastard,” Digger said under his breath.

Marlee clicked her tongue. “Yeah, seriously.”

“Why is Josh lucky?” I asked the two chefs.

“Josh gets to show off even more now. He’s going to make something awesome even with that pesco-veggie-whatever guy. This is going to make him look good. I’m going to have to find an even better one on my next turn. Maybe someone who only eats flatbread. I can do wonders with flatbread,” Digger teased with a smile.

“This blows.” Marlee sighed, blew her bangs out of her eyes, and examined her fingernails. For a chef, Marlee certainly had dirty fingernails. I didn’t like to think about her handling food in a restaurant kitchen!

“For dessert, what about a peach and raspberry cobbler?” Josh suggested. Leo nodded enthusiastically and helped Josh gather the fruits and vegetables for the meal.

We kept out of the way as we followed Josh, Leo, Robin, and Nelson. From what I could tell, Josh was doing a beautiful job. He chose a variety of ingredients, held foods up to the camera, kept his body from blocking shots, and dealt with Robin’s intrusive style better than I would have.

“What about some beet greens, Josh?” asked Robin, reaching for a large bunch. “These look gorgeous.”

“Um, maybe—”

“Or arugula? They’ve got a beautiful selection today.” Robin invaded the camera space and handed Josh a plastic bag.

“Actually, we could make a delicious arugula pesto for the gnocchi. Maybe with some Calamata olives in it? And we’ll find a good cut of meat for Francie and some seafood for you both. We’ll get some nice wine and cheese next door, too.”

Leo nodded in recognition. “Sure. I know the place. Um, the only thing is . . . I sort of hate arugula. But Francie will love it, so I think we should make it anyway. I can just have butter on my gnocchi, right?”

“Sure, of course. If that’s okay with you, that’s what we’ll do.”

As Leo and Josh worked their way through the produce department, they filled Leo’s basket with potatoes, Vidalia onions, heads of garlic, fresh oregano, basil, and parsley, and other items that met Josh’s high standards. Nelson followed the pair and managed to keep the camera on his subjects.

So far as I could tell, Robin did nothing except interject unhelpful commands. “Get some radishes!” she ordered. “Those will look great on camera. Remember to look up at the camera, both of you!”

Josh cleared his throat. Then, trying to look simultaneously at Leo and the camera, he said, “Let’s head over to the meat counter. When deciding on your pick and cut of meat—”

“Josh,” Robin said, “turn your body a bit to the left so Nelson can get the shot. There! Good!” Although Josh must’ve been ticked off at the interruption, his face showed nothing, but Leo looked like a deer caught in headlights. When Robin had positioned the pair to her satisfaction, she said, “Now, say that again, Josh. About the meat.”

Josh uttered three words before Nelson stopped him. “Wait. Sorry. My mike isn’t working right.” The microphone that protruded from Nelson’s camera was covered in a fuzzy sheath. After jiggling the mike with what struck me as unnecessary vigor, he said, “All set. One more time.”

Instead of launching into his third attempt to explain how to select meat, Josh said, “Okay, let’s talk to Willie, the meat guy here.” Josh faced the counter and waved to Owen’s brother. “Willie! How are you, my friend?”

Willie looked up from the counter, where he was cutting and breaking down an enormous piece of beef. “My man, Josh! How’s it going? And, hey, Leo. How are you? And how’s Francie?”

Leo turned to Josh. “My wife and I come here a lot. We’ve gotten to know Willie. Well, Francie more than I, since she’s the meat eater in the family. But Willie always takes care of her.”

“So what’s with the entourage today, fellas?” Willie winked at me, wiped his hands on a dish towel, and leaned against the counter.

Josh explained the show and asked Willie for suggestions.

“Well,” Willie said, “I know Francie’s been eyeing these lamb chops, but I think she didn’t know what to do with them. How to cook them exactly. And they’re pretty pricey. Worth it, though.”

I’d promised myself that I’d keep quiet, but keeping the promise took a lot of effort. How could anyone have absolutely no idea how to cook lamb chops? In terms of culinary challenge, they weren’t exactly shad roe or calf brains.

“Dude, those look nice,” Digger commented from behind Josh. “Really fresh.”

“You’re right,” Josh agreed. With what I felt sure was no intention of insulting Francie, he said to Leo, “It’s hard to ruin a good lamb chop. The worst thing you can do is overcook it, but I’ll show you how to avoid that. Okay, Willie, give us a couple of chops for Francie.”

Willie selected two from the depths of the refrigerated counter and placed them on plastic wrap on the scale. “So, I’m going to be famous from this show, I assume. If I’d known you were coming, I would’ve spent a few extra minutes at the mirror this morning.” Willie scratched his chin. “Might have even shaved for you.”

“You’re as pretty as always, dude,” Josh said with a laugh. “But we’re going to see Evan in a bit to pick up some cheese and a bottle or two of wine. We’ll see who’s prettier then.”

“Tell my brother I’ll always win that contest. Hey, Chloe,” Willie called over the counter to me. “How’s my soon-to-be sister-in-law doing? She ready to pop yet?”

Willie meant my best friend, Adrianna, who was going to marry his brother Owen in a couple of weeks. Adrianna was eight months pregnant and looked as if she were carrying triplets. As far as anyone knew, there was only one baby inside her, but I was beginning to worry that the one baby weighed forty pounds.

“Well, she’s okay. Aside from comparing herself daily to a variety of large mammals and insisting that Owen take over for her and incubate the kid himself. So, you know, she’s doing great,” I said sarcastically.

“Aw, poor thing. I’ll have to give her a call and check in.” Willie wrapped the lamb chops in white butcher’s paper and passed them to Josh. “Good luck. And tell Francie I send my love, okay?”

“Will do,” Josh said with a nod. “Now let’s get your fish.”

Josh got enough halibut to make a first course for Leo. Then we cruised down an aisle lined with shelves of fancy oils, vinegars, and prepared sauces in imaginatively shaped bottles and jars.

“I’ve used some of these sauces before.” Leo pointed to a series of bottles that bore the pretty green label of an imported brand. “That tends to be how I cook, I guess. With jarred sauces.”

As Josh nodded in understanding, Robin nudged Nelson. The signal was unnecessary. Nelson already had the camera on Josh’s face, which expressed his passion for helping people to make wonderful food in their own kitchens. “That’s true for a lot of people,” Josh said. “And it’s great that there are high-quality products for when people want to get a meal out quickly. But the downside is that the at-home cook can really miss out on simple, delicious sauces, salsas, chutneys, and marinades, all kinds of things that can be put together with minimal work. As good as some of these products can be, nothing beats the taste and aroma of freshly chopped herbs blended with a fantastic Spanish olive oil. Or a sauce that you’ve slowly simmered on your stove so you’ve brought out all the flavors of your ingredients.”

Josh and Leo continued making their way through the market, adding products to the shopping cart until Josh was sure he’d have everything he’d need. “I assume you’ll have some basic seasonings at your house, Leo?”

Leo nodded. “I think I’ve got everything you need.” He grinned shyly at Robin. Was Leo trying to flirt with Robin? If so, Robin completely ignored him and returned to checking her notes.

All of us finally ended up at a register, where Robin paid. A benefit of being selected for the show was that the station covered the cost of all the food in the cart, including whatever had been in there before Robin and the chef had even approached the shopper. Today, of course, Robin had picked out Leo as he’d been entering the store, so the policy didn’t matter, and in any case, most of Natural High’s clientele needed no help with food bills. Still, the generous practice spoke well for the station.

“The cheese shop is next,” Robin instructed us while simultaneously scribbling on her clipboard. I was beginning to suspect that she followed the David Letterman approach to note taking, which was to say that her notes were nothing more than random scribbles with no bearing on what was happening. “Since it’s basically next door, we can just walk over there. Digger and Marlee, you can put the bags in the van for us.”

While Robin’s back was turned, Digger saluted her and started pushing the shopping cart. Marlee stayed with him as Robin marched impatiently through the exit door, with Josh, Leo, Nelson, and me hurrying to keep up with her. Everything about her manner and her posture suggested that all of us had been hanging around and wasting time, whereas, in fact, Robin herself had been the sole cause of the delay. Looking back over her shoulder, she had the nerve to call out, “Let’s go, people! We’re on a timetable here!”

The cheese and wine shop where Evan worked was unimaginatively called the Cheese and Wine Shop. Its setting was no more intriguing than its name. It occupied one of the storefronts in a little strip mall across the parking lot from Natural High. Flanked by a knitting store on one side and a handmade crafts boutique on the other, the Cheese and Wine Shop distinguished itself by displaying a cheerful striped awning that welcomed visitors.

“Welcome! Welcome!” Evan’s greeting sounded more affected than genuinely affable. Posed next to a display table that showcased the wine of the month, he had one hand on the table and the other at his waist. I could practically smell calculation in the air. As if to confirm my hunch that Willie had called to give Evan a heads-up, Evan exclaimed,“What a surprise!” After pausing to bestow a toothy smile on everyone, he continued. “And what are you all doing here? Could this be a Chefly Yours episode?”

Still trying to keep my vow of silence, I waved to Evan, who, like everyone else in Owen’s family, was extraordinarily good-looking—reason to feel confident about the genes that Owen was passing on to his baby. Evan and Willie were a year apart but could almost have been mistaken for identical twins. Evan, however, was a bit bulkier than Willie, probably because Evan was fond of overindulging in the delicious triple-crème cheeses available here.

“And is my friend Leo here the target of all your shenanigans?” Evan’s theatrical effort to project made him speak so loudly that Josh and Leo stepped back.

“I am, I am,” Leo answered. “I had no idea when I walked into the store today that I would wind up with the services of a talented chef. It’s wild.” Leo turned to Josh. “I’m a bit of a regular here, as you might have figured out.”

Evan shook Josh’s and Leo’s hands, and then Josh introduced Robin and Nelson.

“Okay, start shooting, Nelson,” Robin ordered.

Nelson flicked on the camera’s light and moved his eye behind the camera while muttering, “I think I know what I’m doin’ here . . .”

Josh nodded and moved to Evan’s side. “So, Evan, we’re looking for some cheeses to serve after dinner and some nice wines to go with everything. What can you recommend?”

The bright light seemed to have panicked Evan, who began to sweat profusely. “Well, Josh,” said Evan, while beaming maniacally into the camera lens, “there are several wonderful choices that I happen to have here.” He moved to the counter by the register and pulled out a tray on which eight or nine cheeses, each with a label, were attractively and all-too-conveniently arranged. “Ahem, this is a lovely Tomme de Savoie. And here we have a Serena, which comes from the mountainous Extremadura region of Spain. Oh, and a rich Gorgonzola, which I think should be on every cheese tray—very smooth and creamy. Would you like a sample?” Evan seemed to be loosening up as he eased into his cheese comfort zone, but when he wiped his forehead with his sleeve, I saw Robin wince.

Evan’s anxiety made me long to alert Leo’s wife, Francie, to the imminent arrival of her husband and his newfound group of television friends. It was five thirty, and I guessed that Leo’s wife might be home any minute. I couldn’t believe that most people would welcome strangers with a camera into their homes with absolutely no notice. It was easy for me to imagine times when even I, who would drop almost anything for a gourmet meal, wouldn’t want Chefly Yours descending on my condo. Of course, I didn’t have Francie’s number and had no way to find it. I didn’t even know her last name. The poor woman! And what if she freaked out when we all showed up at her house? What if she ruined Josh’s chances of winning? For all I knew, the unknown Francie might toss us out like yesterday’s fondue!

Evan cut samples of the powerfully flavored cheese for us all and moved on to a mouthwatering Explorateur. “Decadent and luxurious is how this cheese is best described.” Evan cut through the rind to reveal a creamy center. “This is a triple-crème at its finest.” He really was nervous! He knew as well as I did that cheeses should be eaten in order from mild to strong. He spread the cheese onto four crackers, and in spite of the competition from the lingering taste of the Gorgonzola, all of us, even Robin, groaned and murmured approval.

Decadent and luxurious indeed! I closed my eyes to savor the rich flavor. The thin, crispy, free-form crackers were perfect. Others might not appreciate the need for a good cracker, but I hated ruining an extraordinary cheese by smearing it on the equivalent of cardboard and then having the whole mess break apart in my hands. Just as bad were the kinds of crackers loaded with seeds, nuts, or spices, textures and tastes that bonked you over the head, obliterating the taste of the cheese. Ick!

Evan gestured around the store at the walls filled with bottles. “Tell me about your meal, and we’ll match you up with the right wines. I have a few open bottles that have been breathing for a while, so we can start by trying those.”

Josh described the menu, and Evan helped with the choice of wines. My mind wandered. I was more interested in the food than I was in what we’d drink with it. In particular, the little samples of cheese had whetted my appetite for more, and I had no idea how I’d resist absconding with Josh’s cheese tray and leaving none for anyone else.

When we’d left the shop, Robin again started giving orders. “I’ll ride with Leo so I can fill him in on the release papers he’ll have to sign. And you’ll follow us. Don’t lose me! And we’ll meet you outside Leo’s house, okay? This is it, people! Are we ready to roll?”

“You bet.” Josh clapped his hands together. “This is going to be a fantastic meal, Leo. You’re going to be in great hands tonight.”