A Catered Romance (5 page)

Mary Beth breathed deeply and stared out of the floor-to-ceiling windows at bustling Trolley Square two floors below. How many of those pedestrians scurrying by on the street had a clinging, ungrateful mother who…She bit back her unkind thoughts.

“I don’t want to be a banker, Mom. I’m a chef. It’s what I do. What I’m happiest at.”

“Happy?” Dorothy sniffed. “I sacrificed my happiness to put you through that fancy prep school and college.”

“I got scholarships, Mom. To all the schools.”

“So, I didn’t make any sacrifices?”

“I didn’t say you didn’t make some sacrifices. It’s just that things would have been easier had you gotten a job.”

Damn! Too late. She should have kept her mouth shut. Flinching, Mary Beth held the phone away from her ear and prepared for the tirade to come.

“My job was to stay home and raise you, and I did that well. Your father’s duty was to provide for his family. He shirked his responsibilities, running off with that woman and gallivanting around the world.” Her mother’s soft sobs stabbed Mary Beth like an ice pick to the heart.

She collapsed onto the softness of her sofa and grabbed one of the silk throw pillows, pressing it to her stomach as if it could blot out years of humiliation and unhappiness.

Her mother had been screeching this same lament since Mary Beth was eight and Brian Kendrick walked out on them. Born to wealth, a wealth he’d squandered by the time he met Dorothy, Brian had left them for a woman with the money and social standing he’d grown to feel was his right. Her father’s betrayal still made her stomach clench and bile rise in her throat.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I know you sacrificed a lot for me. You even taught me to cook.” The time spent with her mother in the kitchen had brightened her bleak childhood. Mary Beth blinked away tears. “We’re getting on our feet again. Sackett Industries bought controlling interest in our company. Things should be better.”

“Sackett?” her mother said. “Didn’t you have a crush on that wealthy Sackett boy? If you hadn’t been so darn stubborn and independent, you could have snagged yourself a rich husband. Someone who could take care of you. And me. Why do you think I sent you to that fancy school?”

Mary Beth squeezed her eyes shut at the bitter accusation in her mother’s voice. Tom. He had betrayed her too. Just like her father.

“I can take care of myself, Mom.”

“Just like you’ve taken care of yourself so far,” her mother snapped.

Mary Beth counted slowly to ten. “Things will get better. I promise. I just don’t have money for extras right now. Why don’t you find a little job for a while? You’re good with plants. Mrs. Price has been after you to work in her florist shop.”

“I am very good with flowers and greenery,” her mother sniffed.

“Think about it, Mom. I have to go now. I’ll try to scrape together some money for you.”

Mary Beth hung up the phone and clutched the pillow closer, bunching the smooth fabric in her fist and rocking back and forth. Never, ever would she be like her mother, so dependent on a man that she couldn’t function when he left.

An image of Tom pushed into her mind. She had let him get too close the other day in the kitchen. That wouldn’t happen again.

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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.