“Certainly.” Dani crossed her fingers and hoped she wasn’t lying.
She’d have to hire five or six more servers, as well as a couple of kitchen assistants. Maybe her friend Gray Christensen would be available to act as her sous-chef. His day job as the chief detective of the Normalton Police Department kept him busy, but he loved to cook and had offered to help out whenever she needed him if he wasn’t involved in a case.
Dani inwardly winced. Spencer wouldn’t be happy about that arrangement, but he’d just have to suck it up and understand what this kind of booking could do for her business. In fact, it would be an excellent test to see if Spencer was a good fit as a boyfriend or not.
While they had shared a hot kiss a couple of months ago, since that time they’d only been out on a few dates. Between Spencer’s schedule as Normalton University’s chief of security and Dani’s overwhelming workload, neither had had much leisure time.
This was the stage in their relationship for her to be cautious. Before their feelings deepened. Not after she was irrevocably in love and would be crushed if things didn’t work out.
“Dani?” Vicki’s gentle voice brought Dani back to the present.
“Sorry.” Dani inwardly shook her head. She needed to stop thinking about her romance and concentrate on her business. “I missed that last bit.”
“I was saying that due to the number of guests and Franklin’s ownership of a sports team, we’re holding the party in a tent erected on the grounds of the ballpark. What type of menu would you recommend?”
Before Dani could answer, Yvette said, “By tent, she means a fully enclosed space with heating and a hardwood floor, not something you use to go camping.” She pointed a finger at Dani and said, “Keep that in mind when you make your suggestions.”
“Of course, and I assume you’ll also have a mobile kitchen nearby?” Dani flipped her legal pad to a fresh page and glanced between the two women. “If not, then that will have to be arranged.”
“We’ll definitely take care of that, as well as anything else you need.” Vicki typed on her tablet. “Do you have an idea how large a kitchen you’ll require?”
“Not offhand, but I can get the information to you by Monday.” Dani made a note, then said, “Just off the top of my head, how does this sound? Three or four appetizers with the cocktails, then once everyone is seated, we’ll put out a large salad on each table with a basket of rolls. We can have two or three entrées along with sides and the guest can indicate their choice when they RSVP.”
“Can you be more specific?” Yvette asked. “And we’ll need a vegan/vegetarian option.”
“Sure.” Dani’s mind raced. “How about one vegan, one meat, and one seafood main course?” When Yvette nodded, Dani suggested, “Pappardelle with pistachios and lime for the vegans, rack of lamb with a cauliflower-and-lavender sauce for the carnivores, and for the guests who prefer not to eat meat, a red snapper Livornese.” When both women shot her a blank look, Dani explained, “Livornese is a tomato, onion, caper, and black olive sauce.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Vicki gushed and Yvette inclined her head in agreement.
For the next half hour, they discussed side dishes and appetizers, then Yvette said, “I want you to come up with a trio of really special desserts. Something no one else around here has had. Not some silly cake with those awful icing flowers.”
“Well, I don’t know what’s been served at every event, but I can do something unusual.” Dani mentally flipped through her recipes, then added. “Give me today and tomorrow to think about it.”
“Fine.” Yvette leaned forward. “Once that’s settled, we can move forward.”
Before Dani could respond, her cell phone started playing “I Fought the Law” and Spencer’s picture flashed on the screen. She hastily swiped ignore, thrust the phone under her leg, and apologized, “Sorry. I thought I had it on mute. I must have accidentally turned the sound back on when I checked the calendar.”
“No problem.” Yvette’s eyes glittered with curiosity, or maybe something else. “Was that your boyfriend?”
“Uh…” Dani stuttered, then settled on saying, “It’s the man that I’m dating.”
“He’s an extremely handsome guy.” Yvette’s lips quirked up at the corners. “But that just makes a relationship with him more dangerous.”
“I suppose.” Dani didn’t like the fascinated expression on the beautiful woman’s face and resolved that Yvette and Spencer would never meet.
Dani escorted Yvette and Vicki to the door, and while Vicki waved and hurried away with a promise to meet up with Yvette later, the bride-to-be lingered. She stood in the foyer and made small talk until Dani was ready to scream and push her outside.
Finally, Yvette stepped onto the porch and said, “I’ll call you Sunday to hear your wonderful dessert ideas, and if I approve, Vicki can stop by that afternoon to sign the contract and give you a check.” She carefully picked her way down the steps, then turned and said, “Don’t disappoint me.”
A chill ran down Dani’s spine. Something about the woman was definitely setting off her Spidey senses.
Chapter 2
Spencer Drake quietly opened the door and walked inside the red metal building. He sniffed, surprised that the odor wasn’t as bad as he’d expected. He’d been assured that his newly assigned charges’ accommodations were the top-of-the-line, but he’d still anticipated an overpowering stench.
He might have been born a city boy, but his previous profession had exposed him to a variety of environments. In fact, just before his retirement from an elite law enforcement agency, his last assignment had been based in the rural community of Scumble River, Illinois.
Spencer had been undercover as the Tin Man, a member of the infamous Satan’s Posse, a motorcycle gang suspected of supplying homegrown terrorists with weapons. They’d squatted in an old farmhouse that had reeked of the raccoons using the attic for their own private toilets. Not to mention the bikers’ own nasty body odor.
When Spencer had been exfiltrated from the gang, a story was circulated that the Tin Man had been shanked doing time in Stateville Correctional Center and died in prison. There was even a small marker on an empty grave in the penitentiary cemetery to prove he was six feet under.
It was best for everyone concerned that the Tin Man was never resurrected, so when Spencer had accepted the position of chief of security for Normalton University, one of his demands had been that only his boss, the university vice president, know about his previous work. And even she knew only a part of the truth.
He had helped put away too many outlaw bikers ever to be entirely safe. If it ever became common knowledge that Spencer had been the Tin Man, Satan’s Posse would descend on NU like an invading army. And they wouldn’t leave until he and a lot of innocent bystanders were dead.
Sighing, Spencer opened his camp stool and settled behind a set of plastic curtains. Dr. Stuart, the head of the agriculture department, had told him that the curtains, along with several large fans, provided the necessary air flow for the building.
That had been an eye-opening meeting. Dr. Stuart had gone on and on about barns and agribusiness. He had emphasized to Spencer why he, and not one of his staff, had to oversee this vital surveillance.
Spencer shook his head. If there was any kind of justice in the world, he would never have to hear another lecture about animal waste.
If only to get away from Dr. Stuart, Spencer had agreed to take the first shift. And now as he sat there, he rubbed his face and thought about how badly he needed some sleep. The nightmares had been bothering him again, and last night he’d been awakened by them every couple of hours until he gave up and got out of bed around 5:00 a.m.
How in the holy heck was it that he ended up doing more stakeouts in his role as chief of university security than in all of his years in law enforcement? Spencer had certainly nev
er expected that when he took the job.
Evidently, there was more crime on campus than he’d been led to believe during the interview process. When Spencer had applied for the position, he’d been told that the administration wanted him to concentrate on protecting the students from sexual assault and encouraging those who were attacked to report the incident, which was a project he could fully endorse. After all, he had a niece attending the school.
But lately, the university’s head honchos had their panties in a bunch about all the pranks being pulled by the newly minted sorority and fraternity pledges. They were especially panicked over a rumor floating around about the Greeks’ next target, which was the raison d’être for Spencer’s current location in NU’s mascot barn.
This outbuilding was on the College Farm, which was situated on the northern edge of the university’s property. Its position was quite a hike from the main campus, but distance didn’t seem to matter to the inebriated students.
And while the agriculture department was responsible for the well-being of the livestock owned by the college, a couple of the animals were considered too important to be lumped in with all the rest.
The administration was petrified that the university mascots, Hamlet and Oinkphelia, were going to be hognapped. Or worse, dressed in silly costumes and photographed.
PETA had already expressed their displeasure that the Chester White pigs were paraded around during sports events. If the animal rights organization got wind that the pledges had tormented the swine by playing dress up, they’d try to rally the alumni against keeping the hogs as mascots. And that would hit the university right where it hurt—in the pocketbook.
Why Normalton University had chosen pigs for their symbol was beyond Spencer. None of the college’s sports teams’ names had anything to do with swine. The only reason he could come up with was that whoever had originally chosen the hogs was a displaced Manhattanite who thought that a school located in Central Illinois surrounded by farms had to have a pig as its representative.
Shaking his head, Spencer squirmed on his seat. The tripod stool wasn’t designed to be used for such a long stretch of time. Keeping his gaze glued to the mascots’ pen, he reached into his duffel and retrieved a bottle of water. Realizing it was tepid, he wished he’d thought to include a cold pack in his preparations.
It might be mid-October, but it was still darn hot. Spencer couldn’t recall the politically correct name for Indian summer, but whatever it was now called, they were experiencing that period of unseasonably warm, dry weather that often occurs in the Midwestern autumn.
As he took a lengthy gulp of the lukewarm liquid, sweat trickled down from Spencer’s armpits. Sighing, he screwed the cap back on and tried to get comfortable. Next time, he would delegate this assignment to one of his officers, whether the powers wanted him to handle it himself or not. He snorted at the absurdity of his situation.
In his previous occupation, he’d put his life on the line every day in order to protect the public from the scum of the earth. Now he was waiting for some dumbass kid to try to take a hog hostage.
And even though he knew it was a huge waste of his time, he also knew that he’d sit there until his butt cheeks were numb and his eyes dried out because it was his responsibility to stop the swine from being harassed. When he’d applied for and accepted the job of chief of NU security, he’d sworn to himself he would perform his duties with the same dedication as he’d given his prior work. And if that meant spending the night with a pair of pampered pigs, so be it. Still, he had to wonder how his life had come to this.
As the barn’s interior darkened and the shadows lengthened, the sound of a car door slamming startled Spencer from his near doze. Footsteps thudded against the packed dirt and he stiffened.
Spencer checked that he was fully concealed, gripped the high-powered flashlight that he could flick on to temporarily blind the intruders, then waited.
The overhead florescent bulbs cast a greenish glow in the center of the barn but didn’t reach the corners. Anything or anyone could lurk in the shadows.
Metal rattled and the door squeaked. A few seconds later a young woman and man approached the pigpen. It was located in the center of the building’s interior and the brightest spot in the barn. Each of the intruders held a large white plastic bucket.
The guy poked the girl with his elbow and made a face. “We’re in trouble if Professor Stuart finds out that we were so late feeding them.”
“Yeah.” The young woman nodded, then in a fake baritone pontificated, “Hamlet and Oinkphelia shall be fed at 8:00 a.m. and 6:00 p.m. on the dot.”
Shit! Spencer wrinkled his brow. All he needed was for these kids to run into a drunken frat boy and attempt to protect their charges against the raider. He’d be forced to intervene if they got into a physical altercation, but he didn’t want to have to tip his hand until he caught the pledges in the act of swine swiping. That way he could have the police charge them with grand larceny instead of just trespassing.
When the pair quickly poured the contents of their buckets into the trough and hurried away, Spencer blew out a relieved breath. He returned his attention to the pigs and watched Hamlet and Oinkphelia jockey for the best cabbages, sweet potatoes, bananas, and apples.
As the hogs inhaled their dinner, Spencer let his mind wander through the last six weeks.
For a long time, the worry that the motorcycle gang would find him and go after someone he cared about had kept Spencer from dating, or even making friends. Bad enough his niece was on campus, but there was nothing he could do about that. However, choosing to make someone a target because of their relationship with him was another story.
At least until recently, when his attraction to Dani Sloan, his niece’s friend, landlord, and employer, had caught him by surprise. It had made him realize that he was using his fear of gang retaliation as an excuse not to risk his heart again.
It really wasn’t the criminals he was afraid of; it was the lack of good sense that he’d shown in falling for his ex-wife. Maybe if it hadn’t taken so long to get free of her, he’d be able to forgive his lapse of judgment, but although the divorce had been swift, her attempts to gain control of every last asset he owned had gone on forever.
It made him wonder why he’d married his ex in the first place. Possibly it was because he’d started realizing that he had nothing in his life that was his. Being undercover so much, he couldn’t even have a pet.
But his ex hadn’t wanted him to quit and become just another cop. She liked the idea of his dangerous job. That was probably what attracted her to his best friend, who was a firefighter. His profession had the mystique she craved without the inconvenience of an absent husband.
Because of his disastrous marriage and worse breakup, he’d thought that he was far from being ready for a romantic involvement. And although he’d vowed never again to rush into a relationship with a woman, he couldn’t seem to fight the appeal of Miss Cupcake. He’d known resistance was futile the minute he’d given the curvy chef that affectionate nickname.
He’d managed to control his feelings until she started spending a lot of time investigating a murder with a local hotshot police detective, but then jealousy had reared its ugly head and he’d realized that he’d have to make his move before he lost her to the other man.
He hadn’t exactly planned the moment of his surrender. But when it happened and he’d impulsively kissed her, he hadn’t been the least bit sorry.
That kiss had been earth-shattering. Now if they only could carve out some time to spend together, maybe they could move to the next step. Whatever that might be. Certainly, more than their current quick peck good-night.
The past six weeks they’d had to be satisfied with a few dates, some long phone conversations, and lots of silly texts.
That reminded him. Dani had never returned his call. He’d tried to contact her earli
er that afternoon and had to leave a message.
Why hadn’t she responded?
While Spencer only worked the weekends during big college events, Dani nearly always had either a catering job or a personal chef gig. But for once she was free.
As soon as Spencer found out Dani was available, he had cashed in a favor to get a reservation at the Reapers Supper Club. The restaurant was normally booked months in advance and it had been a miracle that the parents of a girl Spencer had rescued from a party that had gotten out of hand were investors in the place.
Ordinarily, Spencer would never have accepted such a gift, but the girl’s parents had insisted, and since it didn’t have any monetary value, he felt okay having them arrange a table for him.
At such short notice, he had no choice if he wanted to take Dani to the hottest spot in town. And he really wanted to impress her.
Fishing his cell phone out of his shirt pocket, Spencer checked to see if he’d missed Dani’s return call, but there was nothing. That was odd. Unless she was working, she always got back to him within a few minutes.
He frowned. As far as he knew, Dani didn’t have a personal chef or catering job tonight. And the appointment with the prospective client she’d been so excited about should have been over long ago. According to Dani, initial consultations rarely lasted more than forty-five minutes. An hour was pushing it.
Spencer was pretty sure that Dani had said her meeting was scheduled for three o’clock, which was why he waited until nearly five to call her. And now it was going on seven and still no response.
Spencer started to dial her number but stopped. If his investigative targets arrived for the hog hijacking, he didn’t want them to hear him talking on the phone. Instead he’d send her a text.
He quickly typed out: Everything okay?
Winner Cake All Page 2
