Bachelor's Special (10 page)

Her future wouldn’t be filled with sexy, billionaire bachelors who lived in mansions and drove exotic cars and smelled of sandalwood. Daydreams and fantasies needed to be checked at the door, because right now she had to put on her party face, pour some coffee, and cut cake.

Chapter Twelve

Gina had sat through most of the business talk with a pout the size of Texas protruding from her bottom lip—unless Chet happened to look in her direction, and then her face lit up like the Vegas strip at midnight. Jill didn’t know how much more she could take.

“Dessert was a fabulous end to a delicious meal, Jill.” Collette rose from the patio table. “I think I could use a walk around the garden to burn off all the calories I consumed. Anyone care to join me?”

“Sounds lovely.” Gina stood, boredom overtaking her features the minute Chet’s attention turned toward his male guests.

“Let me put the dessert away and clean up a bit and I’ll join you.” Jill piled several plates on the cart along with the leftover cake.

“Leave it for later.” Collette held out her hand.

“I’ll only be a few minutes. I’d like to get the leftovers in the fridge.”

“Promise us you won’t worry about cleaning up until after we’re gone.” Gina smirked, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

“Promise.” Jill hoped the smile she delivered didn’t come off as crusty as it felt.

Less than five minutes later she made her way back out to the deck and smiled at the men as they sat around finishing the last of their drinks and talking about the latest baseball game.

Jill maneuvered the several steps to the grassy level below and moved toward the sound of voices. As she neared the back garden she stopped in her tracks.

“You were certainly sending kudos where none were deserved, Collette. I can’t believe you enjoyed that woman’s cooking.”

“That woman has a name. Jill,” Collette reprimanded.

“Whatever. I’ve eaten better at a greasy spoon.”

“Actually, I’ve eaten at some amazing ‘greasy spoons’ as you call it. Jill is a very talented cook. Quit letting your bitterness show, Gina. It’s very unbecoming.”

“I think you should reconsider about using her to cater the luncheon. There’s no way she can handle that job. She doesn’t even have her catering business up and running.” Gina’s voice rose in a desperate pitch, as if she needed to convince Collette with whatever means possible that Jill wasn’t right for the job.

“I disagree. I think because she is new and starting out, she’ll work that much harder. Plus, I like her. I like her cooking. And I respect Chet’s judgment. If he trusts her enough to book her for the fund-raising season, that speaks mouthfuls.”

Jill smiled at Collette’s kind words. She’d felt an instant kinship to the older woman and was glad to know her instincts about Gina and Collette had been right. One bad and one good. She gathered her breath and made her presence known.

“Sorry, ladies. That little bit of cleanup took me longer than expected.” Jill’s heart quit racing when Collette stepped forward to tuck her arm through Jill’s as they rounded the final path in the garden.

“I’m so excited to work with you on the luncheon, dear.” Collette patted her hand, and the warmth did Jill’s confidence good.

“I’m honored you have so much faith in me.” Jill smiled from the older woman to Gina. She hoped Barracuda got the message that’d she’d overheard their conversation.

After their walk, Jill retreated to the kitchen to finish cleaning up. She made sure to take her time so that she didn’t have to return to the patio and sit in Gina’s company any longer than needed. After the conversation she’d overheard between Gina and Collette, Jill’s anger boiled beneath the surface until she wanted to explode. She feared if she stayed any longer she’d say something she’d regret.

A little more than an hour had passed and she heard several of the guests making their departure. The mustached man and his wife, along with Collette and her husband, had poked their heads into the kitchen to thank her again for a wonderful dinner.

The evening over, Jill poured herself a small glass of wine and downed it in one swallow before making her way out the side door to walk the gardens. She hoped to avoid Chet until she got her thoughts in order regarding all she’d learned from Gina tonight. First her story about Chet—
could it possibly be true?
—and then hearing the barracuda bad mouth her in an attempt to ruin her business before she’d even booked her first job.

The noises of crickets and other tiny creatures mingled with a light breeze. The dull throb in her head—signaling a doozy of a headache if she didn’t de-stress—melted away. She breathed in a large dose of air and sighed, stopping along the path to linger over the wonderful lilac bushes in the back of the garden.

“Fancy meeting you here.” Chet’s voice came from behind, and she spun around, heart in throat.

“Y-you scared me.” She covered her chest with her palm. Chet sat on a small bench hidden in the shadows of a large weeping willow.

“I’m sorry, but I knew no matter what I said, or how I said it, I’d scare you. And I thought you’d prefer me saying something in lieu of sneaking up on you.”

“True.” He was the last person she wanted to see right now. She felt too out of sync to hold a normal conversation. And she wasn’t ready to confront him—or even sure she had any right to confront him. Maybe she should just tell him what Gina said and listen to his side. But what if it were true, she’d come off looking like…like someone sticking her nose in where it didn’t belong. She was the cook. Here for one reason, and that reason was to get her business started. It didn’t matter what Chet and Gina did. She didn’t care.

Liar.

Gina’s rants didn’t have an effect on Collette’s impression of Jill as a cook, so why should Jill listen to Gina’s rants about herself and Chet? Jill needed time to absorb tonight and the new people she’d met. She had learned long ago to trust her instincts, and they yelled out for her not to trust Gina.

He held out his hand. “Come sit with me. We had a long night and I’m sure we could both use some downtime.”

Jill sat beside him, the heat from his body washed over her, and she inched to the edge of the stone bench. She was already confused enough without throwing her hormones into the mix.

“How did everything go tonight? Get everything settled business-wise?”

“We got a good start on it, but still need to work out the kinks.”

“The idea you have for the scaled-down equipment for kids is wonderful. I hope everything works out in your favor.” She crossed her feet at the ankles, then dared a peek at him from beneath her lashes.

He smiled. “Thanks, Jill. I hope so, too. At least knowing I have you here to plan the menus has been a load off my mind. Last year when I had contracts with several caterers, I never knew who was cooking, what was being served, or if I’d forgotten to even make the arrangements.”

“I’m glad to help. I can tell this is important to you.”

“Very much. I’ve been mulling all of this over for years, and it’s finally time to start putting my plans into action. I’m worried, stressed, and a little frightened of being able to pull it off.”

“You’ll do it. Look what you’ve done so far.” She squeezed his hand. “You just have to try to remember you’re working with a wonderful group of people who seem to care as much as you do. If you get your fund-raisers in line and build the excitement, you’ll raise what you need, and it’ll all come to be a reality.”

“You make it sound easy.” He playfully nudged her shoulder with his, and she gave it back with a chuckle.

This felt right. How they could talk and tease each other so easily, as if they’d been friends for years. She got that warm, fuzzy feeling again. Total happiness.

“Dinner was excellent, by the way. Thanks again for being so conscientious.”

She licked her lips before she felt safe enough to speak. “You’re welcome.”

They sat in a silence.

Chet cleared his throat. “Do you think if I needed your help for a few dinner parties that might go over our eight-week agreement, you’d be willing?”

Surprise shot through her. “What are friends for? I’m here to help anytime.” Jill meant it. She couldn’t stop from getting caught up in Chet’s excitement just a little bit.

Chet shifted and his thigh brushed against her leg, and for some reason the contact reminded her of Gina. Confusion about the Chet-Gina story rushed through her, and in an instant the camaraderie they’d shared as friends changed gears.

One part of her didn’t think it was possible, but another part reminded her that she really didn’t know Chet well enough to form an opinion on anything he might say or do. Or did she? His morals seemed locked solid on the side of good. But then again, everyone had a dark side. Didn’t they?

She shivered, and wordlessly Chet shrugged out of his jacket and tucked it around her shoulders.

“Thank you.” She tried to pull back, but he kept his arm around her and pulled her tightly to his side.

“Must be a little chilly out here in a dress with no sleeves.”

She couldn’t look at him, but she heard the smile in his voice and it only made the blood bubbling in her veins heat up another degree. Damn him and his sexiness. She didn’t need the confusion of her attraction sabotaging her good sense.

What she needed was to distance herself from this man and his home. Should she bring up the idea about moving out—maybe taking Mel up on her offer for a few weeks, and just coming in to cook daily, or when he had a business dinner? The calendar showed that dinners would really start to wind down within the next two weeks. Should she hold onto her emotions a little more, erect a brick wall, and keep her tongue in check until then? Maybe by that time he’d consider a little bit of a shift in their agreement.

She shivered again, but this time it had more to do with her own indecision than his nearness. Although the hardness of his body pressed alongside hers and his fingers rubbing circles on her shoulders—even though they had the barrier of his jacket between them—played havoc with her brain and her body.

Jill rubbed her hands together, forgetting her friend mantra. She’d make a graceful exit and blame it on the cool night air. But before she could act, Chet grabbed her hands in his and held them up to his mouth, blowing his warm breath over them while rubbing them between his palms.

“Your fingers are like ice.”

“I guess it’s colder than I realized.”

He leaned in and the breath that moments ago warmed her hands now caressed her face. She sighed when his soft, warm lips brushed against hers. The cricket chirps and the owl hoot faded into the distance with a gust of air, and she sank into the warmth of Chet’s chest. His arms circled around her, hugging her tight. Her hands—still clasped—lay against his ribs and she snaked them around his waist until her palms pressed against his back. She dug her fingertips into his muscles and he moaned.

He felt so good. So right.

So wrong. So not friend-zone.

She hadn’t had enough time to think any of this through. For one, he was her boss. For another, was he sneaking around with Gina? Or was he sneaking around with
her
? Should she approach him and make an exit from living under his roof because she feared what she might see happening between him and Gina?

And why did she fear it?

Jill pulled away and stood, shrugging Chet’s jacket from her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Chet. I-I can’t do this.” She stepped back, tripping off the edge of the brick path, regaining her footing before she could fall.

“Jill—”

But she didn’t stop—couldn’t stop. She dashed down the path veering off to the left until she reached her bedroom garden door. She pushed her way into her room, then thrust the door closed and sagged against the glass, sliding down to the floor until she sat with her knees tucked to her chest.

She’d never claimed life would be easy, but did it need to be this difficult?

“The schedule is lightening up. Most of the dinner parties are done. At this point I don’t see what difference it’ll make?” Jill thrust her hands on her hips to stop them from shaking and to give herself the look of outward confidence she didn’t feel.

Chet pushed his barely touched breakfast plate away, rose from the counter, then stalked to the cabinet that held his car keys.

Although almost two weeks had passed since the dinner party with Gina, Jill hadn’t been able to broach the subject of moving out and driving in each day until now. She hadn’t expected anger to be Chet’s reaction.

Jill planned to finish their deal, but she had her own life, and the longer she stayed here, the more distant her reality became. Chet helping her out was one thing, but she didn’t need to get too comfortable. She also didn’t want to witness Gina trying to lay her claim on Chet, even though she’d come to grips with her doubt and didn’t believe Chet would encourage her. Friends or not, the show would be too painful to watch either way.

“Is this because of what happened in the pool?” Chet bit out his words, closing the cabinet door with a resounding thud.

“No. No, this has nothing to do with…with that—”

“Then no. A deal is a deal.”

“Wait…”

Chet stormed into the garage, slamming the door closed behind him.

Sudden deafening silence.

If it had been about the pool, would he have agreed? He made no sense. Jill sank against the counter, her heart thudding into her ribs. She’d never liked raised voices and heated words. They reminded her of her parents’ vicious fights before her father left and moved out of state, never to be seen again.

“You all right, cookie?”

Startled, Jill pasted a smile on her face, then turned toward the kind voice of Gretchen. Tuesday. The older woman’s day to clean.

“Yes. I’m sorry, Gretchen. I forgot you were here.”

“No worries.” Gretchen’s heavy German accent forced her to pronounce each syllable with exactness if she wanted to be understood. She ambled into the room, her slight limp a reminder of her recent knee surgery. “You fight with my Chet?”

Jill nodded. Afraid to speak as tears still clung to her throat.

“Don’t be hard on him. He is very good man.”

“I think you’re slightly biased.” Jill grinned. Already the soft spot in her heart for the round, gray-haired woman had grown.

“I tell you story.”

“Maybe some other time, Gretchen.” She wasn’t in the mood to hear more of Gretchen’s childhood in Germany.