Free Beef Stolen-Off by Liz Lipperman

If Santana pulls his ads, some of the
Globe
’s employees suddenly become expendable. I don’t really want to see that happen. Do you?”
    Egan was playing hardball, and they both knew it. Although the young woman occupying the cubicle behind hers was the only employee who’d made an effort to talk to her in the five months she’d been there, Jordan wasn’t prepared to jeopardize anyone’s livelihood just because some old guy liked staring at her boobs.
    And that’s exactly what Egan counted on.
    She took a deep breath. “What do you want me to do?” she asked, annoyed he’d played the perfect trump card.
    A satisfied smile spread across his face. “That’s my girl. You’re tough enough to handle anything Santana dishes out and—”
    “Just tell me what I’m doing.”
    He took a sip of his coffee before continuing. “He wants you to join him and Bella at the ranch for Sunday dinnersfor a few weeks. Says he’ll have his cook prepare casseroles using his own beef. Not only can you write about them, but you can also use the recipes in your column. He thinks that might get people excited about beef again.”
    Jordan felt her resolve slipping and knew she was fighting a battle she wouldn’t win. She took a relaxing breath, wishing she had a Ho Ho. Shoving one of those chocolate treats into her mouth always produced an instant endorphin high and gave her a different view of the world.
    Okay, that was a load of crap, but she really wanted one right now.
    “All right, I’ll do it,” she said after making her editor sweat it out for a few more minutes. “But this is it with Santana. No more pimping me out to him.”
    Egan threw back his head and laughed so hard he nearly fell over backward, chair and all. “Jesus, McAllister, where’d that come from?”
    “It’s true,” she said, unable to hide her disgust. “First, you send me to a party where my date up and dies in my arms. Now, you want me to play nice to Daddy Warbucks on my day off.”
    Egan was still grinning. “It’s my job to do whatever it takes to keep the newspaper solvent,” he said, attempting to sound serious, without success. “Come on, McAllister, how bad can it be to enjoy a home-cooked meal on a Sunday afternoon? And don’t forget, you won’t have to come up with a recipe for the Kitchen Kupboard for the next three or four weeks. If you think about it, I’m actually doing you a favor.”
    Jordan huffed, but there was some truth to what he said. Lately it was getting harder to come up with a different casserole every week and slap a fancy name on it. This might be a nice reprieve.
    “Did I tell you I have two seats on the fifty yard line for the Cowboys game tonight?”
    Her head jerked up. She loved the Cowboys, and this week they were playing their division rival, the New York Giants, on
Monday Night Football
. Danny had checked online, but the cheapest available tickets were two hundred bucks a pop, way out of their price range. And that was for end-zone seating.
    “And you’re giving them to me?” She tried not to let her excitement show and began tapping nervously on her pants leg, out of Egan’s view. Danny would freak out if she came home with fifty-yard-line tickets.
    “One of my friends has season tickets, but he’s out of town tonight for the big game. I thought you might be able to use them.” He paused. “That’s if you agree to play nice on Sundays and talk up the local beef industry.”
    “Done,” she said, holding out her hand and feeling much like a dolphin who did tricks for a fish.
    Never breaking eye contact, he reached in the top drawer and pulled out an envelope. Handing it to her, he said, “There’s a parking pass in there, too.”
    She grabbed it, noticing her name clearly written on the front. “You knew I’d cave, didn’t you?”
    He nodded. “Who could resist the Cowboys from the fifty yard line?”
    Sensing that agreeing to pacify Santana was a big deal to Egan, she decided to press her