“So we’ve got a while to come up with a recipe?”

Hannah shook her head. “All we have is two days.”

“But they won’t have the premiere until the movie’s all finished, and edited, and whatever else they do to it.”

“True, but I stuck my big foot in it and that’s why we have a time crunch. I suggested that they use the mini cherry cheesecakes in the cocktail scene and then there’d be a tie-in with the premiere.”

“That’s a great idea! So Mr. Lawrence must have liked it a lot if he’s going to do it.”

“Oh, he loved it,” Hannah said, giving a wry grin. “He loved it so much he stole it.”

“Stole it? What do you mean?”

“By the time we were finished talking, he was saying that it was his idea.”

“That figures,” Lisa said, shaking her head. “He isn’t the type to give anyone else credit. I knew he wasn’t a nice person five minutes after he sat down at the table.”

“How did you know that?”

“I was going around with the coffee carafe and I stopped at his table. I asked if he wanted a refill and he held out his cup. That’s all he did, he just held up his cup. He kept right on talking to Mr. Barton and let me give him a refill. And after I did, he just put his cup down in front of him. He didn’t even bother to look up or say thank you! Everyone else at the table did, but not him. He thinks he’s too big for his own britches!”

Hannah couldn’t help it, she laughed. The old-fashioned phrase sounded strange coming from a woman who’d just turned twenty. “You sound like your grandma,” she said.

“I know. I’ve always loved that saying. It makes me think of a smart-mouthed guy running around without pants.”

“Lisa!” Hannah was slightly shocked. Her normally very proper and slightly naďve partner had loosened up a lot now that she was married.

“Well, it does. Not that I’d like to see Mr. Lawrence that way!” A little color climbed up Lisa’s cheeks and Hannah knew she was about to change the subject to something less embarrassing. “So we need those mini cheesecakes by Wednesday?”

“That’s right. Do you have any ideas?”

Lisa looked thoughtful for a moment. “Let me work on it, Hannah. I’ve seen something like that, and I think my mother used to make them. I’ll look through her recipe file and if I don’t find it there, I’ll ask Dad if he remembers.”

“Do you think he might?” Hannah asked, hoping that Jack Herman’s memory would come through for them. He’d taken part in an Alzheimer’s study and the “cocktail” of three new drugs he’d tested had helped tremendously.