by Cara Marsi
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Mary Beth transferred warm crabmeat balls and mushrooms stuffed with spinach onto silver servers. Gail handed the platters to the three college students hired to help the regular staff at the Bennett mansion.
“So far everything’s going according to plan,” Mary Beth said when the students had left with their heavy trays.
“The evening’s early yet,” Gail said. “Let’s keep our fingers crossed.”
Mary Beth wiped her hands on a paper towel. “I hope they like the rest of the meal as much as they seem to enjoy the appetizers and caviar.”
Gail smiled. “Considering the copious amount of liquor flowing from Jim Bennett’s wine cellar, they may not notice the food at all.”
Mary Beth grimaced. “I prefer them sober when they taste this exquisite meal we’ve slaved over all day.”
“If you have to slave in a kitchen, this is the place.”
Mary Beth followed Gail’s gaze around the spacious, professionally equipped kitchen with its two commercial refrigerators, four ovens, two dishwashers and a butler’s pantry. The rich walnut cabinets were a sharp contrast to the satiny almond colored walls and the beige granite counter tops inlaid with antique hand-painted tiles.
“This is quite a house,” Mary Beth said. “In all the years I went to school with Taylor Bennett, she never invited me here.” She threw Gail a rueful look. “Of course, kids who lived in Chateau Country didn’t associate with kids from working-class neighborhoods.”
“You’re here now and it won’t be the last time. Their cook’s broken ankle turned out to be our lucky break.”
“That’s a lame joke,” Mary Beth said, smiling. She sighed. “It still grates on me that we were available on such short notice.”
Gail shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. By this time next year we’ll have a waiting list for our services. And this job’s bringing a lot of money.”
“I could sure use the money.”
It had been a week since her mother’s telephone call. With the substantial fee from the Bennett’s, she’d send her mom a check.
The timer rang, propelling her and Gail into action. They removed trays of stuffed mushrooms from one of the wall ovens. Mary Beth inhaled the pungent odor of garlic and chives. At least in the kitchen she could relax, free from worries.
They set the hot trays on ceramic trivets to cool and then removed crabmeat balls from another of the ovens.
“This job is just the beginning for us,” Gail said. “See what Tom’s connections can do?”
Tom. Mary Beth hadn’t seen him in ten days, since he’d helped her prepare the lamb stew. She had liked being with him, liked it too much. He would have kissed her if Gail hadn’t interrupted. She should be grateful to Gail. Instead she felt…cheated.
Since then her nights had been filled with erotic dreams of making love with Tom. Of running her fingers over his muscled chest and through his thick black hair. The memories of her dreams heated her like steam from a boiling pot.
Get over it. You’re not in high school anymore with a crush on the cutest guy in class.
She had to push Tom away, had to protect herself from hurt. He’d be here tonight, one of the guests. She would be cool and professional. He’d never know the emotional turmoil his nearness provoked.
The student servers and the Bennett maids entered the kitchen with empty platters. She spent the next minutes refilling trays.
“I’ve got to start that cream sauce for the lobster ravioli,” she said when the others had left.
“I’d better get the salads out of the refrigerator,” Gail said.
“Mr. Sackett, that’s just the kitchen in that direction.” The voice of Frederick, the butler, drifted in from the long hallway.
“I know exactly where I’m going, Freddy.” At Tom’s deep voice Mary Beth stopped on her way to the refrigerator and whirled to face the doorway.
“How are my two favorite caterers?” Tom sauntered into the room.
He smiled at Gail before settling his gaze on Mary Beth. The intensity in his eyes held her in place. She tugged on her braid as butterflies whipped a soufflé in her stomach. Why did Tom always have to look so devastatingly handsome? It wasn’t fair.
Tonight he wore a well-cut deep blue suit that accentuated the breadth of his powerful shoulders. His snowy shirt and exquisite silk tie complemented the picture of moneyed elegance. Only his black hair, softly curling over his collar, hinted at the wild youth he’d once been.
Mary Beth rubbed her hands down the sides of her linen slacks, wishing that just once Tom could see her dressed in something other than plain black pants and a white blouse.
She was Tom’s employee. Nothing more. How she looked didn’t matter.
“The appetizers are a hit,” he said. “I can’t wait to taste the rest of the dinner.” He didn’t move his gaze from Mary Beth.
“I’ve got some things in the butler’s pantry I have to check,” Gail said, heading for the small room off the kitchen.
“You look nice,” Tom said when they were alone.
His warm smile made the butterflies in her stomach churn out of control.
“The Bennett’s were thoughtful enough to provide us a room to shower and change.”
He studied her. “You’ve been avoiding me, Mary Beth.” He walked slowly toward her. The subtle scent of his cologne teased her with sweet memories. “You wouldn’t take any of my telephone calls the past week.”
“Gail can handle the business as well as I can.” She backed away. “And business is the only thing between you and me.”
His jaw tightened. “I know that, but I wanted to talk to you.” His gaze softened. “I enjoyed myself that day in your kitchen.”
She twisted her braid around her hand. Just looking at him made her bones liquefy. He had betrayed her trust and hurt her deeply once. She had to remember that.
“I have cream sauce to prepare.” She yanked open the refrigerator door and pulled out light cream, butter, and several large shallots.
“Don’t run away from me, Mary Beth. We have to talk.”
She deposited her armload of ingredients on the counter and wiped her hands on her apron before turning to face him. Their gazes locked. Her chest ached with yearning.
“Now’s not the time,” she said. “And besides, we have nothing to discuss.”
He ran his hand over his hair. “We have plenty to say.”
She blew her breath out. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for us. You got us this job, which is a tremendous opportunity. You’re my boss. Let’s leave it at that.”
He stood inches from her. She stared at his chiseled lips, at the light shadowing of beard on his face. She wanted to trace her finger over his mouth and the firm line of his jaw. She bit down on her own lip, forcing the dangerous thoughts from her mind.
“I’m not your boss, Mary Beth.” Frustration edged his voice. “Kendrick’s is a subsidiary of Sackett. You and I were friends once.”
“We’re business associates now,” she said. “Nothing more.”
“Is that the way you want it?” he rasped.
“That’s the way I want it.” Liar, a small voice taunted.
He moved away. Sadness coiled around her heart.
“Tom, darling, there you are.” A soft, melodious voice came from the doorway. Mary Beth shuddered.
Taylor Bennett, six foot two inches in her stiletto heels, her silver blonde hair in an elegant French twist, slithered into the kitchen. Her black silk sheath skimmed the rich curves of her long body. Diamonds twinkled from her delicate earlobes.
Taylor latched onto Tom’s arm, clinging to him like glazed caramel on crème brulee.
Mary Beth sidled away, glad to put distance between her and the privileged couple who matched each other in height and breeding.
Old hurts twisted in her like a serrated knife. She was back in high school, the poor kid on scholarship surrounded by the children of the elite. She straightened her spine.
She’d worked hard and made something of herself. No one could take that away from her.
Tom stepped away from Taylor. The blonde’s full red lips formed a pout. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were avoiding me, Tom. Last night you left the Riley party early, and now I find you in the kitchen with the help.” Her cold, pale blue gaze slid over Mary Beth.
Tom narrowed his eyes at Taylor. “Mary Beth is a professional chef. And a damn good one. She came to your mother’s rescue.”
“Mary Beth Kendrick.” Taylor’s lip curled in a sneer. “You haven’t grown at all since school. You still look like a little girl.”
Mary Beth’s face heated. “Hello, Taylor. It’s been a long time. I can’t say you look eighteen anymore. Every one of the past twelve years is—”
“Hi, I’m Gail O’Connell, Mary Beth’s partner. We haven’t met.” Taylor ignored Gail’s outstretched hand.
Mary Beth threw Gail a look. Gail shrugged.
Tom glanced at Mary Beth. His mouth tilted into a smile he quickly suppressed. “Taylor, we should leave and let these ladies get back to the work they do so well.”
Taylor twined her arm through his. The blood red of her long lacquered nails stood out against the dark blue of his jacket, like talons imprisoning their prey.
“Come on, Tommy.” She flicked her icy gaze at Mary Beth and ran her hand slowly up Tom’s arm. “The conversation in the drawing room is much more stimulating. And Daddy just opened a bottle of his best Sauvignon Blanc.”
“Go on ahead,” he said, pulling his arm free of hers. “I just remembered some business we have to discuss here. I’ll join you shortly.”
With a toss of her head, Taylor pranced from the room.
“Mary Beth, we need to talk,” he said. His gaze caught hers.
“We’re finished talking. I have a dinner to cook.”
A muscle worked in his jaw. “Later.” He strode from the room.
The excitement and tension that surrounded Mary Beth whenever Tom was near left with him. She felt deflated, like a pie cut too soon.
“What was that all about?” Gail asked.
“Nothing.”
“That Taylor’s something else,” Gail said. “A real spoiled bitch. Tom didn’t seem to appreciate her charms.”
“They’re old friends. They dated in school.” Remembered hurt made her stomach turn. She pushed the old memories aside. “We have work to do. By the way, thanks for bailing me out.” She threw Gail a rueful look. “I almost rose to Taylor’s bait. If you hadn’t broken in when you did, God knows what I would have said.”
Gail laughed. “When I heard her say you look like a little girl, I knew we were in trouble. I tripped all over myself getting in here.”
“I know I have to bite my tongue at times for the sake of the business,” Mary Beth said. “But what satisfaction I would have gotten telling Taylor Bennett exactly what I think of her.”
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Mary Beth sipped ice water and leaned against the butcher-block island in the Bennett kitchen.
Gail sat on a stool opposite her. Perspiration beaded her forehead and she pushed blonde curls off her face.
“We did it,” Mary Beth said, raising her glass in salute. She and Gail were alone in the quiet kitchen while the staff served desserts and coffee.
“And did it well.” Gail nodded toward the doorway. “Sounds like they’re enjoying their desserts as much as they did the rest of the meal.”
Laughter and the delicate musical tinkling of sterling flatware on bone china came from the huge dining room where two massive tables seated all thirty of the Bennetts’ guests.
Mary Beth set her glass on the island and rubbed her arms. Her muscles ached from cooking and from hauling heavy pots. But it was all worth it.
She surveyed the kitchen and its counters littered with dirty plates, glasses and serving pieces. No leftovers in sight. All signs of a well-enjoyed meal.
The staff would clean up later. She and Gail had already washed their personal knives, the only equipment they’d needed to bring. Once they got the Bennetts’ check they’d be on their way.
“Did you see Jim Bennett’s eyes when we brought out the rum-glazed pears?” Gail asked.
Mary Beth grinned. “I thought they’d pop right out of his head, especially when you topped the pears with whipped cream.”
Gail laughed. “How about the professor-type guy with the ascot. He looked ready to lunge over the table for the sponge cake.”
“It’s a wonder they had room for dessert the way they wolfed down our Saltimbocca Alla Romana and risotto.” Mary Beth kissed her fingertips and threw the kiss into the room. “The best we’ve ever made.”
“Damn, we’re good,” Gail said. “Give me five.”
Laughing, Mary Beth exchanged high fives with Gail.
“Can you believe we actually got a standing ovation?” Mary Beth asked.
“A standing ovation from everyone except Taylor.” Gail grimaced.
“We don’t need Taylor.” Mary Beth waved her hand in dismissal. “After tonight our reputation in this town is sealed.”
“And we spread our business cards around like pate on crackers. Our phone will start ringing off the hook.”
Mary Beth finished her water and rolled the icy glass over her forehead. She focused on the copper pots hanging on a wall grid. “We can buy our business back and I won’t need Tom anymore,” she whispered.
“Maybe you’ll need him in other ways,” Gail said softly.
Realizing Gail had heard her, Mary Beth’s face burned. “What are you talking about?”
“He couldn’t stop looking at you every time you went into the dining room.”
Mary Beth stiffened. “He wasn’t looking at me.”
“You noticed,” Gail said.
Not wanting to meet Gail’s knowing gaze, Mary Beth glanced away. She’d known Tom watched her. She had tried to ignore him, but she couldn’t help sliding looks his way. Her pulse had raced every time their gazes connected. She couldn’t tell Gail that, and hated admitting it to herself.
“Then of course there was Taylor,” Gail said. “You must have felt the sting of her venom stares.”
“I felt nothing,” Mary Beth said in a tight voice. “Subject closed.”
An hour later, check in hand, Mary Beth clutched her knife case, ready to leave the rarefied world of the Bennetts. The staff bustled around cleaning counters and loading dishwashers. Gail was on the phone to Pete.
Mary Beth scanned the large room and sighed. Their night had been a raging success. Maybe soon she’d be free to run her own business, free of Tom and the heady, disturbing emotions he invoked in her.
Her chest ached. Tom would be gone from her life. No problem. She’d done very well without him the past twelve years.
“Ready to go?” Gail said, coming to her side.
“Ready.” Mary Beth glanced at the doorway. Its emptiness mocked her. No Tom leaning against the frame, smiling. Why would he care when they left? They were no more than employees to him. She blinked her eyes against the sudden hurt that blindsided her.
They said their farewells to the staff and started for the side door. Their van was parked at the top of the drive, behind high hedges.
“Leaving without saying good-by?”
Mary Beth’s heart somersaulted. She turned slowly around.
Tom sauntered toward them, jacketless, his tie loose. His gaze never wavered from hers, his crooked grin warming her.
“I’ll walk you to the car,” he said.
“Oh, damn, I have to go to the powder room before we leave,” Gail said. “I’ll meet you at the van.”
No, Mary Beth’s mind screamed. Don’t leave me alone with him. I don’t trust myself.
Tom held the door open and she had no choice but to walk out with him into the pine-scented night. She threw her head back to stare at the clear dark sky. Stars were strung across it like a delicate diamond necklace.
An evening
made for love, with a dollop of romance. Shivers of fear and excitement skittered up her spine. The safety of the beige catering van beckoned. She hurried her steps.
The van’s door rattled in protest as she slid it open and deposited her knife case. Tom stood close behind her. The warmth of his body reached out to her, warning of danger.
She turned to face him. “Thanks for everything.” He was too close, too appealing. She focused on the white blossoms of a nearby rhododendron, trying to ignore the way his nearness made her want to melt into him like honey on a warm biscuit.
“I only got you the job,” he said softly. “You made it a success.”
She felt him looking at her, but she refused to meet his gaze.
He touched her shoulder. She tensed.
“Look at me, Cat Eyes,” he said huskily.
“Cat Eyes?” She stared up at him.
“Damn,” he said, skimming his hand over his hair. “It’s my secret name for you.”
“Don’t have a secret name for me, Tom.” She clenched her jaw.
He reached out a hand and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.
Gasping, she touched her ear. It burned from his caress.
“In all the time I’ve known you, I’ve never seen your hair free,” he said in a thick voice.
She looked into his eyes, dark and mysterious in the moonlight, and knew she was lost.
“You are so beautiful,” he said, stroking her jaw with his thumb.
Her body pulsed with dreams that had gone unrealized in all the years since high school. She had to fight her weakness, but the night was so sweet and warm and Tom was so close.
He bent toward her.
“What are you doing?” she said in a shaky voice.
“Fulfilling a fantasy,” he whispered.
He pulled her to him. His lips, hot and soft, crushed hers. He tasted of hazelnut coffee and whipped cream. Time seemed to stop; her fears no longer existed. Nothing mattered but this moment and this man. She twined her arms around his neck.
“Mary Beth,” he whispered against her mouth. The longing in his voice awakened an answering need in her.
“Tommy, Tommy, are you out here?” Taylor’s voice hit Mary Beth with the force of a cast iron pot.
