by M. S. Parker
I hadn’t realized how much was actually involved in running a catering business, at least a full-time one. I’d gone to school for business and had grown up in a family that had a business, so I, of course, had a theoretical idea of how things worked. But I’d also listened to my parents talk for years about how Juliette was wasting her life, how she’d never be able to make a real living because that wasn’t the sort of business that could thrive.
Not like an auto parts store that had been around for four generations.
I didn’t know if it was because Juliette had started her business in California and things were different out here, or if my parents had simply deluded themselves into thinking that Juliette was throwing her life away because she’d left home, if they actually wanted her to fail simply so they could be proven right.
Either way, they were wrong.
The catering job Friday evening was for a hundred people, which I thought sounded like a huge deal. But as I talked more with Juliette, I realized that she’d been catering events that size and bigger for a little over a year. Not that it made this one any less important. As she pointed out, in this city, one bad review could make or break anyone’s career. She always had to be on point.
And from what I could see, she was. I may have been taking the position of business manager, but she wasn’t just the public face of the business, or even just the creative force behind it. Juliette did everything. She wanted to know the budget, wanted to know where every penny went. She worked with the chefs to create the menu, then cooked alongside them. She tasted the new dishes, critiqued them. Even things as small as making sure all of the uniforms and linens were ready, she double-checked. And it was clear that it wasn’t just because it was my first week.
My sister was definitely a control freak.
I just hoped that wasn’t why the previous business manager had quit.
Then again, Juliette and I seemed to work well together. I was organized and had no problem directing people to do what I needed them to do, but I also had no problem taking direction when it was obvious someone else knew more about a situation than I did. I’d been told in college that I had a strange combination of confidence and humility.
Friday morning demonstrated Juliette’s...enthusiasm for control. She was into everything, high energy, going from one thing to another. Everything appeared to be going smoothly, so while she was busy, she wasn’t freaking out about anything. In fact, she seemed to thrive on it.
“You go with the first car,” she said as she handed me a red three-ring binder.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Your copy of the itinerary, and everything else needed to make tonight work.” Juliette held up another binder, that one black. “I always have a back-up in case something happens to mine.”
“You’re sure you want me to go first?” I asked.
She nodded. “One of the two of us has to be there when everything arrives, and I need to pick up the last of the centerpieces.”
“I could do that,” I offered, trying to sound like I wanted to help instead of being so nervous I was sure my hands would’ve been shaking if I hadn’t been gripping the binder so tightly.
“No, you and Emmalyn go ahead. I’ll meet you there. I should only be about forty minutes behind you.” She glanced over my shoulder to where I knew Emmalyn was standing. “Emmalyn, be sure to help my sister out with anything she needs.”
I had a feeling Emmalyn wasn’t too happy with that instruction, but she simply agreed and headed to the company car. I followed, reluctantly getting into the passenger’s seat. Until I got my California driver’s license, Juliette didn’t want me driving under the company’s insurance. I didn’t know if that was a legality thing or because she was being cautious, but I didn’t mind. I’d never liked city driving back home...and this was nothing like back home.
The ride with Emmalyn was awkward despite the fact that I turned on the radio, and I was only too glad to have the binder to study so I didn’t have to try to make conversation just to feel polite.
I once heard in a movie that you’ve never experienced heavy traffic until you experience LA traffic. It didn’t take long before I realized how true the statement was. The ride to the mansion was only ten miles from the kitchen, yet I was able to get most of the way through my manual before we pulled up to a set of huge iron gates almost an hour later.
As the gate opened and we drove to the servant entrance of the mansion, I put my game face on. It was time for work.
I was surprised at how quickly things went once we got there, how time seemed to fly by as I oversaw everyone setting everything up. Fortunately, they all knew their jobs perfectly, so there wasn’t really much for me to do other than make sure the client was happy and make any little changes they needed.
It wasn’t until hours later that I realized something was wrong.
I hadn’t seen Juliette yet.
Instead of asking around and causing a panic, I pulled my phone out of my bag to send a discreet text. And that’s when I saw the missed calls. Three of them. All from Juliette.
The first voicemail said it all.
“Glad that you listened to my instructions about turning off your ringer. I didn’t think it’d come back to bite me in the ass though.” Her voice was a little more stressed than I was comfortable with. “Apparently, the new company truck is a lemon piece of shit. Damn brakes went out and nearly killed me.”
Shit.
“I’m okay, just having to wait for the fucking tow truck.”
Oh, yeah, she was pissed.
“And then I have to figure out a way to get a new truck and centerpieces and...anyway, I don’t know how long I’ll be, and I can’t have this party blowing up in my face. I need you to run it. You’re the only one I can trust to do this.”
No pressure.
“I believe in you, Sis. Don’t let me down.”
Fuck me.
Chapter Three
“Let me get this straight,” Emmalyn said, her mouth twisted into a scowl. “The brakes went out on the truck, Juliette can’t get here with the centerpieces, and she wants you to do her job after you’ve only been here less than a week.”
I squared my shoulders and resisted the urge to glare at her. That would be counter-productive. I had no problem playing to her personality to get what I needed. “Not alone, she doesn’t. She told me to have you help me since you knew the ropes.”
I could tell she didn’t really like the idea of ‘helping’ me, but my words mollified her enough that a bit of tension eased. Maybe, I thought, it wasn’t Juliette that Emmalyn had a problem with. Maybe it was me. Maybe she felt like I was taking a place that she should’ve had. I didn’t know why she hadn’t tried to apply for the business manager position, or if she just thought that she should be the one automatically put in charge when Juliette wasn’t around, but perhaps it was the position and power causing the problem.
I pushed it all out of my head. I didn’t have the time to think about any of this now. I had a job to do, and while I’d gotten a business degree, it didn’t really cover much if any of my current problems. All I had to go on was the past week and the three-ring binder Juliette had given me.
Fortunately, Juliette’s instructions had been very thorough.
“Miss Breckenridge.” The hostess of the party, a stately-looking woman in her fifties, approached me. “I have yet to see your lovely sister here.”
I gave Mrs. Breashears a confident smile. “I’ll make sure I tell her you’re looking for her.” I glanced at Emmalyn, waiting for her to add something. When she didn’t, I continued, “Is there something I can do for you, Mrs. Breashears?”
“Not at all, dear.” She gave me a warm smile. “I just wanted to tell her how lovely everything looks.”
“I’ll pass that along,” I said. I looked down at the binder in my arms. “If you’ll excuse me...”
“Of course,” she said. “I’m sure the other Miss Breckenridge keeps you qui
te busy.”
I gave her another smile and hurried off, hoping I was heading in the right direction. I knew there were a million things that needed to be done. I just had to figure out the best place to start. I was pretty sure there was a schedule in the binder, but I already felt like I was showing too much in the way of nerves. I needed a moment.
Then I saw a means of escape.
“I’m going to run to the restroom,” I said suddenly. “I’ll be right back.”
I didn’t wait for Emmalyn to respond, but ducked through the door to my right. I closed the door behind me and leaned back against it. I closed my eyes and forced myself to take several deep breaths.
I could do this.
I graduated with honors, steadily been in the top five in almost all of my classes. I could handle this.
Besides, Juliette wouldn’t have entrusted it to me if she hadn’t thought I could do it. She would’ve asked me to come back and sit with the truck, or she would’ve put someone else in charge.
My sister believed in me, and I damn sure wasn’t going to let her down.
I exhaled again and opened my eyes.
Pep talk over, I set the binder down on the sink and looked at myself in the mirror. This wasn’t how I wanted things to go, but they were already in motion, and there wasn’t anything I could do to stop it. It was time to prove myself.
When I stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later, Emmalyn was standing there, her face blank, but her toe tapping on the expensive marble tile.
“All right,” I said. “Let’s do this.”
***
I had absolutely no clue where the past few hours had gone. One moment, I was giving Emmalyn instructions that she clearly didn’t want, and the next, I was watching the servers clearing away empty plates and listening to everyone exclaiming over how amazing the food had been.
“And they haven’t even had dessert yet,” I murmured.
“Excuse me?” Emmalyn spoke up from my left.
“Nothing,” I said and gave her a tight smile. “Just grateful things have gone so smoothly.”
“They have,” she admitted. “Juliette will be pleased.”
“Thank you,” I said. At least I could be honest about this. “You were a huge help tonight. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
I could see the war on Emmalyn’s face. Part of her wanted to accept graciously, and I hoped that was because she could hear how sincere my gratitude was. Another part of her, I was sure, wanted to tell me to go fuck myself because while I couldn’t have done it without her, she could’ve easily done it without me.
She settled for somewhere half-way in-between. “The night’s not over yet. We still have a lot to do.”
She was right. Even though the main courses had been served, and the tables were being cleared, we’d only made it through part of Juliette’s list. We still had dessert to serve, drinks to monitor, clean-up, tear down, and, of course, making sure we left everything as pristine as we’d found it, or even more so. I was just glad I didn’t have to worry about things like the servers stealing or being rude to anyone. Juliette’s staff was amazing.
“I’m going to check on things.” I gave Emmalyn a polite smile. “If you could keep things in line back here, I’d appreciate it.”
She nodded and turned toward the kitchen. I almost felt bad for the workers I was leaving her with, but I couldn’t deny I was glad for the break. My nerves were still there, fluttering on the edge of my thoughts, but they’d eased as I’d let myself fall into Juliette’s role. As I stepped out into the main room, I admitted that some of that lingering anxiety was due to the constant watchful eye of Emmalyn.
“Miss Breckenridge.” A handsome older gentleman with silvery hair came up, a pleased smile on his face. “So good to see you again.”
Again? It took me a moment to realize that he was mistaking me for Juliette. She and I really did look alike, but I hadn’t realized it was that pronounced. Then again, it was also likely that this man had only met my sister once, and alcohol had probably been involved both times.
I opened my mouth to tell him that I wasn’t Juliette, but I suddenly remembered what Juliette had said about word of mouth in this business. If I corrected him, and he asked to speak to my sister, I’d have to admit that she wasn’t here. I doubted that was something Juliette wanted getting around.
“It’s nice to see you as well.” I shook his outstretched hand. “I hope everything was to your liking this evening.”
“It was.” He gave my hand a friendly squeeze before letting it go. “You have a wonderful night.”
“You too.” I kept smiling even as he walked away.
I just hoped he didn’t speak with anyone who actually knew I wasn’t Juliette. I made my way around the perimeter of the room, giving nods and smiles to anyone who looked my way while I attempted to appear too busy to stop. Hopefully, my presence would either make people think I was Juliette, or if they realized I wasn’t, they’d assume she’d sent me to check on things while she was busy somewhere else.
I almost made it full circle when someone stepped into my path. I stopped abruptly, nearly stumbling, and a hand shot out to grab my elbow, steadying me. Warmth flooded through me, both embarrassment at the near-collision and at the stranger’s touch.
I looked up at someone several inches taller than me and met a pair of slate gray eyes. He had a classically handsome face, just the right combination of pretty and rugged, with a strong jawline and only a hint of stubble so fair that it was nearly invisible. His hair was an unruly white blond, the sort I immediately associated with the beach and waves and surfers. The expensive tux he wore, however, was definitely not surfer chic.
“I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
I wanted to step forward, let his hand slide up my elbow and around to my back to pull me into him.
So I stepped away instead.
“I was distracted,” I found myself saying. “Trying to make sure everything’s perfect.”
He smiled and a dimple appeared in one cheek. Of course he’d have a dimple too. Fuck me, he was gorgeous.
“I would expect nothing less, Miss Breckenridge.” He dropped his hand. “This company has quite the reputation to uphold.”
I nodded and tried to think of something that wouldn’t make me sound like an idiot. Fortunately, he kept me from needing to speak.
“Reputation means a lot to me.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. “I realize that subbing isn’t exactly what you would prefer to do, but I’m hoping you’ll make an exception in my case.” He held out his hand, and I automatically reached out to take the card. “At least consider it. It could be very beneficial for you.”
I stared as he walked away, trying to decide what was throwing me more. How amazing those broad shoulders and muscular body looked in that perfectly-cut tux...or the fact that I was pretty sure I’d been offered a job.
I looked down at the card. Cross Phillips. There was a phone number and an email address, but nothing that explained who this man was or what position he was offering me. Or why in the world he’d walk up to a random person and offer them a temporary position working for him. Unless that was the way things were done out here.
Maybe he’d talked to Emmalyn and she’d mentioned that I was only filling in for the business manager position temporarily. That made sense in a way, especially if Emmalyn really wanted this job. What didn’t make sense was why a handsome, clearly rich man would want a business manager who was just out of school. Then again, he said it was a subbing position, so maybe he figured a recent graduate would cost less. Just because he had money didn’t necessarily mean he spent frivolously.
A noise from the kitchen made me jerk up my head, remembering the real reason I was here. It wasn’t to get job offers from handsome men. I already had work to do, and right now, that meant finding out what just happened in the kitchen.
I’d think about Cros
s Phillips later.
Maybe while enjoying a glass of wine and a hot bath. He was gorgeous.
But this wasn’t the time for that.
I hurried toward the kitchen, hoping that my good luck hadn’t run out and that it had just been something minor.
Chapter Four
I was exhausted.
Like bone-deep, fall-down-and-not-wake-til-morning exhausted.
I wasn’t unused to hard work. All of us kids had worked in the family store growing up and were all expected to maintain good grades at the same time. I’d worked a job through college while staying at the top of my classes as well. It hadn’t been unusual for me to go for weeks with only a couple hours of sleep here and there, especially during finals.
But tonight...I shook my head as I watched the last of the staff drive off. Juliette was on her way, finally having gotten everything taken care of. She asked me to wait at the business so we could go back to the apartment together. While I waited, I leaned back against the counter and eased off my shoes with a pained exhale. I’d been smart in choosing my shoes tonight, but even the most comfortable footwear wouldn’t have held up to the amount of time I’d been on my feet.
I reached into my bag and pulled out the business card Cross Phillips had given me. What could he want me to do? I had to admit, as much as I’d enjoyed the last week working with Juliette, I couldn’t deny that I was tempted to take up his offer. But I also had to admit that it was less because I wanted a different job, and more because I wanted to get to know the man who’d offered it.
It had been a while since I’d met a guy I found interesting.
“How did things go?” Juliette asked as soon as she came in. Her expression was strangely blank, as if she was keeping whatever she was feeling under tight control.
“It went well,” I answered. She’d had a bad day, and I couldn’t remember how she usually responded to stress. If this was her way of keeping a temper in check, I wasn’t going to call attention to it.
