“But they are not Philippe!” she said mockingly, repeating his earlier retort.
He chuckled. “They are not. But they are learning.” He winked at her and moved away, shadowing some of the wait staff, ensuring everything was to his high standard.
Melanie watched as he stalked the room, chatting to some of the guests, and bowing to them. No doubt soaking up all the compliments on his meals. The ones he most likely didn’t cook.
Huh!
He certainly did have an ego. With time, she’d probably get used to it. But right now, it grated on her a little.
As soon as all the desserts were served, the wait staff began to serve platters of cheese, crackers, and fruit, then offered tea and coffee to each guest.
What Melanie would do for a coffee right now. Instead she headed for the kitchen to see what she could do to help.
“It is all under control, Madame,” Philippe told her with an exaggerated bow. “See these people,” he indicated with his hands. “They are all experienced with the weddings. No, you rest, and let them do the work.”
He pulled her aside. “That’s what we pay them for, Melanie,” he said quietly, winking as he did.
Her name rolled off his tongue so beautifully and she wished he used it more. His French accent made it sound so special. Not like an ordinary Melanie, but a Melanie who was to be treasured.
She felt the heat creep up her face.
“What are you thinking,” he said laughing. “You are blushing.”
“Nothing,” she said. “Nothing at all.” She began to rush from the room.
How embarrassing. She wasn’t sure she would be able to face him again after that little episode. At least he had no idea what made her blush.
“Melanie,” he called after her. “Wait up,” he said softly. “You were thinking about me, weren’t you?” He had a cocky grin on his face.
The nerve of the man.
He had her cornered near the exit to the reception hall, but she didn’t feel any fear. She knew Philippe had no bad intentions toward her.
“Okay, you got me. But it’s not what you think,” she said. She licked her lipstick covered lips and he stared down at them. “I liked the way my name sounds with your accent,” she said nervously.
He smirked but said nothing.
“Happy now?” she said, then began to walk away.
“It is kind of sexy, my accent, no?” He continued to smirk, and she felt like slapping him.
“I have to go,” she said, beginning to move away.
“Mel-an-ie,” he said slowly. “Yes, I like how it sounds.”
Her heart pounded in her chest – from her annoyance of course. There was no other reason.
She stared into his brown puppy eyes and couldn’t pull her glance away. She licked her lips again. “I, I have to go,” she said urgently. And she truly did. Had to get away before she did something she might regret.
Philippe had a pull on her that no one else ever had.
Chapter Five
It had been a long day.
A very long day. And now she was ready to go home.
She stood in the locker-room and snatched up her bag, then flaked against the wall, closing her eyes as she did so.
“Melanie, you are still here.”
She’d know that voice anywhere.
“Philippe,” she said flatly. She just wanted to go home and collapse into bed.
“You look exhausted, my friend.”
She opened her eyes and looked sideways at him. Well duh! She’d been here since early this morning, and now it was dark outside. Of course she was exhausted!
“I look exhausted, because I am exhausted,” she said softly. “I just want to get out of here.”
“Melanie,” he said, playing on the fact she liked how he said her name. “I have a surprise for you.”
He hooked his arm through hers and warmth spread through her body. “Where are we going?”
Despite her reluctance, she let him lead her.
They walked through the reception room where the function had been in full swing just a short time ago. The staff had almost finished cleaning it up, and it looked like a totally different place now.
“Nuh, uh. It won’t be a surprise if I tell you.” That cocky grin reared its head once more. But she couldn’t say it upset her. In fact, she kinda liked it.
It was cute.
She mentally slapped herself. What on earth was she thinking? It just proved how tired she really was.
Philippe led her into the restaurant which was empty of guests at this time of the night.
In the middle of the room was a small table.
The center of the table had a candle burning, and the lights were down low. A bottle of champagne was sitting on ice.
He pulled out the chair and helped her into it, then uncorked the champagne.
Handing her a glass, his eyes never left hers. “Tonight we celebrate,” he said. “Just the two of us.”
He then poured himself a glass. “To the two of us – we make a great team.” He clinked his glass to hers and began to drink.
“Thanks,” she said quietly. Champagne was nice, but a sleep would be even nicer.
Philippe pouted. “You are not happy, my Melanie.”
“I’m tired. Really, really tired.”
He frowned. “I thought to make you a bite to eat.”
She shook her head. She really just wanted to go to bed.
“Ah, but you must eat. You are too skinny already – I mean to fatten you up.” He winked at her and grinned.
That lopsided grin of his got her every time.
She sighed. “Okay, you win.”
“Bien. Good. Wait here.” He headed toward the kitchen, and Melanie’s curiosity was peaked.
He returned a short time later with a plate of entrées. They looked appetizing. “Excess from the wedding. But perfectly good,” he said. “We always make extra, just in case of the accidents.”
She loved his accent. Melanie didn’t care what he said, his words practically sang in her mind.
He pushed the plate toward her. “Go on, take some. But beware, some are hot.” He handed her a napkin and passed over a small plate as well.
He pointed to each item. “Cheese and bacon stuffed mushrooms, scallops wrapped in bacon, smoked salmon with feta and pine nuts, and roasted red capsicum bruschetta.”
She reached for a stuffed mushroom and took a bite. “Mmmm, heaven.”
Philippe lifted a napkin and touched it her mouth. The buzz she felt left her reeling.
He stared into her eyes. “You had a little cheese…” He pointed to the corner of her mouth.
She didn’t want to acknowledge what had just happened but felt she should. “Thank you. The food is amazing, but I must go.”
He leaned back in his seat, disappointment evident in his expression. “I am sorry, Melanie,” he said. “I overstepped the mark. Don’t go – you are hungry, and I have delicious food here for you.”
She glanced at him and then at the food. He was right, she needed to eat, and this wonderful food would end up in the rubbish if they didn’t eat it. “Okay. Okay, I’ll stay, but perhaps we need to set some rules?”
He rubbed his hand across the dark stubble that was now showing on his chin. “I like you Melanie,”
She interrupted. “I like you too, but…”
“But we work together. I understand.” He pushed his fingers through his wavy black hair. “More is the pity. We are good together.”
“We are,” she said quietly, then picked up a piece of the bruschetta. This food was to die for. “It’s not you,” she said softly, avoiding his eyes at all cost. She closed her eyes, trying to push the bad memories to the back of her mind, but it only made them worse.
She opened them suddenly, panic beginning to rise. She startled when Philippe gently touched her hand.
“Are you alright my friend?” Concern was written all over his face.
She straight
ened her back and brushed his words away. “I’m fine,” she said. “Don’t mind me.” She picked up a scallop and popped it in her mouth. “Mmmm, amazing. Do we get to do this after every wedding?”
He laughed and pushed the plate further toward her. “If that’s what you want, we most definitely will.”
* * *
When they’d had their fill of wedding cuisine, including a selection of cold desserts, Philippe had walked Melanie to her car.
It was dark, and despite her protests, there was no way he’d allow her to go out alone. The tiny outback town of Oakdale was usually safe, but you just never knew. He wasn’t going to risk her safety.
She’d offered to help him clean up, but he’d refused the offer. That’s what dishwashers are for, he’d told her jokingly.
It made her laugh, which made him happy. He’d been very concerned earlier when she’d had a panic attack; it seems to come out of nowhere. One minute she’d closed her eyes, only momentarily, and suddenly she was in panic mode.
He frowned. What had done that to his Melanie?
He gasped. She wasn’t his Melanie, and he had to cleanse himself of those thoughts.
What would Amelie say? He shook himself.
He muddled about in the kitchen for a while, doing a lot of nothing, and decided it was time to go home. He’d be back at work before he knew it, and he wanted to spend as much time with Amelie as he could. Their time together was precious.
He removed his chef’s jacket, then turned off the lights to the kitchen and restaurant and headed for the main entrance.
“Goodnight, Faith,” he muttered to the receptionist as he left. “Enjoy your evening.” He gave her a brief wave and headed for his own car.
When he arrived home, he entered quietly, and headed straight to check on Amelie. He watched her sleeping and wondered what he’d done to deserve this beautiful creature. He leaned in and gently kissed her forehead.
“Goodnight, mon amour,” he said in a whisper, ensuring not to wake her. Tomorrow was his day off, and he would relish every second of their time together.
Chapter Six
Melanie awoke with a start.
She glanced over at the bedside clock and gasped.
10am.
She flew out of bed, headed for the bathroom and reached for the shower taps. Then remembered it was her day off. She turned herself around and climbed back into bed, pulling the still-warm covers around her.
She’d had the best sleep last night. Better than she’d had for months, and she put it down to her change of job.
No more worrying about abuse. No more nasty customers.
She sighed contentedly.
Sure, she’d had a busy week, and she’d been on the go the whole time. Her brain was in overload from everything she’d had to learn, but she was still under less stress than she had been at the bank.
She closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep but sleep totally alluded her now.
She finally dragged herself out of bed and wrapped her robe around herself, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She filled the kettle with water, then flopped down at the table.
Coffee finally in her hands, she stared out the kitchen window. She loved her little unit, even if it was in town. Braxton had tried to cajole her into moving out of town and closer to him.
But she liked living where she did. It was close to everything – she could walk to work, and did so most days, but not when she had to come home in the dark.
Thinking about work led to thinking about Philippe, which was not what she wanted.
She told herself Jefferson was the reason she refused to get close to Philippe, or any man for that matter, and in some ways that was true.
If she stopped lying to herself, the real truth was she was scared. Too afraid to give her heart to someone else. Someone who might turn out to be the opposite to what he initially seemed.
Was Philippe that man? She didn’t think so, but she didn’t really know him. After all, she’d only known him for a week.
It was obvious the two of them hit it off. And she reacted every time he touched her. Did he feel it too? If he did, she wasn’t aware of it.
Besides, they worked together. What happened if they began a relationship then broke it off?
She sipped her coffee trying to push her thoughts aside. They were way out of control.
A relationship with Philippe would be ludicrous. Apart from the obvious, she didn’t even know the man. Was he married, was he single, was he even a nice person?
He seemed nice enough – at work – but it was easy to hide your true personality. Jefferson was proof of that.
Thank goodness for Braxton…
She shook herself. This was not a conversation she wanted to have with herself. Melanie lifted the mug to her lips and took a huge mouthful, then continued to stare out the window.
Life as a single woman suited her perfectly, and that’s exactly how she intended to remain.
* * *
Melanie sat at her desk feeling totally stress-free after two days off. Two days of relaxation. She couldn’t ask for anything more.
Her phone began to trill, but it no longer bothered her like it had at the bank.
“Melanie Chalmers.” She wrote notes as she listened carefully. “This Saturday?” She drew in a breath. “I will have to confer with our head chef before I can commit to that and will get back to you shortly.”
And so it begins again. But this time the organization was solely on her. She knew it would happen but had no idea it would be so soon.
She picked up the phone to call the kitchen. They wouldn’t have face-to-face contact if she could help it.
It rang several times before he picked up. “This is Philippe.” His strong accent sent a delicious shiver through her.
“Good morning,” she said. “It’s Melanie.”
He chuckled down the line. “I know, it came up on the screen. Good morning to you too. What can I do for you, Melanie?” He emphasized her name, drawing it out. Solely for her benefit she was certain.
Was he doing it on purpose just to annoy her?
“I have a last-minute request for a function on Saturday. Can we accommodate?”
“Provided there is no other booking, we will always accommodate function requests,” he told her. “You are new,” he said. “But for future reference, we never turn function bookings away.”
She felt her face go red and was glad they weren’t in the same room. She’d messed up royally.
“Do not berate yourself, Melanie,” he said, as though he could read her mind. “Call them back and organise a time this afternoon or in the morning. We’ll be on our toes, but we can manage.”
“Thank Philippe.”
They said their goodbyes, and she disconnected the call, then called back the potential client. They’d never used the inn before, so this could be good for future business too.
After she’d made all the arrangements, she pulled out the notebook Sierra had left for her and began to read over them.
She could do this. Sierra had confidence in her, and so did Philippe.
She slunk down in her office chair. They had far more confidence in her abilities than she did.
“Ah, Melanie,” Philippe said, tucking his head around her office door. “Coffee for you – I’m sure you can use it. How did you go with the client?”
She straightened up in her seat. “Thanks for the coffee.” She really needed it but didn’t need the zing she got when their hands brushed. “They’ll be here at 2.30 – I hope that is okay for you.”
“Oui. Yes, it is fine.” He handed her a clipboard. “Some food suggestions. We’ll go over this with the client this afternoon, but this is….” He waved his hands in the air. “a start. We go from there. My staff, they are organised. Tentatively. Yours?”
“Oh.” She hadn’t given that a thought, but she should have. It was only five days away.
She pulled some previous rosters out of the drawer and
went over them. “I’ll get on it right away.” She’d already begun contacting staff before Philippe had left the room. It wasn’t a lot of notice, but they had to be sure to cover the event.
She finally got off the phone an hour later and printed off the staff roster. It was a lot of work, especially being her first time doing this from scratch, but it would be worth it.
Melanie leaned back in her chair and relaxed.
“Melanie,” It was Cassie, the inn manager this time. “We’ve just got word we’ll have a movie celebrity and his entourage joining us tomorrow. Here are all the details.” She handed Melanie a list, then left.
This job sure kept her busy, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.
* * *
“There are two ways we can do this,” Melanie explained. “Either way we’ll have everyone seated at the tables. We can provide set meal, or a buffet. It depends on your requirements.” She handed Peter Janson a clipboard.
“We have made up two suggested menus, one for each type. If you have any specific requirements, we can of course, include those.”
Janson scrutinized the menu and frowned.
Melanie and Philippe glanced at each other. Was he going to back out now?
He looked up, still frowning. “Now I don’t know which way to go,” he said. “I hadn’t thought about a buffet at all.”
She felt herself relax. “It really depends on whether you want people wandering around while the proceedings continue,” she said.
He shook his head. “No. No, I really don’t. We’ll have high profile guest speakers, and I don’t want them distracted.” He studied the menus again and spoke directly to Philippe. “You’ll be able to cater for dietary and religious requirements?”
“Definitely,” Philippe said. “Get a list to me by Friday and we can comply.”
“Good.” Peter Janson stood. “I’ll see you Saturday then.” He reached over and shook Philippe’s hand, then turned to Melanie.
“I’m sorry to have to ask Mr Janson,”
“Peter, please.”
“Peter it is. Because it is such short notice, and we’ll have to get in all the supplies almost immediately, we’ll need full payment up front.”
A Husband for Melanie Page 3
