What the hell was I doing? When he turned to take the call, I rushed from the kitchen. This was not cool.
Chapter Seven: Inflagranti Delicious
“Nikki, these garlic crab puffs are to die for.” A woman with hair so heavily sprayed that it didn’t move when she did was standing in front of me, holding an empty plate in one hand and licking the fingers of the other hand. “You must give me the recipe.”
I smiled and said, “Absolutely. I’ll be e-mailing Mrs. Donaldson the list of recipes tomorrow. You can get it from her.”
A lot of caterers keep their recipes secret because they think it will increase business. I take a different angle, knowing that most people aren’t going to take the time to make the recipes, and if they do, they probably won’t turn out as well as I can make them. They’ll just need to hire me if they want the real thing.
The party was going well. Senator Hunter Donaldson and his wife Marcia had a gorgeous mansion, and this was a fundraiser for his upcoming re-election bid. The room was filled with famous actors, other politicians, business magnates, and anyone who had $10,000 to attend tonight’s party.
Sadly, we didn’t get a big chunk of that money. I’d given a pretty deep discount to the Senator and his wife, in the hopes of landing more gigs from the people who were here. I was determined to grow this business, and events like these were the way to do it.
I went into the kitchen to see how things were going, and the servers were just coming out with the third round of appetizers. Everything looked and smelled great.
James came bursting in. “Nikki! We have a problem.” He kept his voice discreetly low.
“What’s wrong?”
“One of the three lasagne florentines is MIA. I looked everywhere and it’s not here.”
“That’s a huge portion of the main entree. Did you check the van?”
“I did. I specifically put it in there myself. It’s not there now.”
I shook my head. “That’s weird. I’ll go look and see. Maybe a pair of fresh eyes will see something. Otherwise, we can send Justine back to the kitchen to see if it’s there.”
“Young man!” A woman’s voice was calling to James from outside the kitchen in a drunken, sing-songy voice. “Where did you go?”
It was probably one of the old biddies who’d had one too many martinis and wanted the attention of the handsome catering assistant.
“You go deal with her and I’ll go look in the van.”
***
Stepping out the side door, the air felt cool on my skin. I was glad that the day hadn’t been hot, because even if I did find the tray of lasagne, it would be ruined. Honestly, I probably wouldn’t be able to serve it anyway.
Nonetheless, I wanted to solve the mystery of the missing lasagne. My clogs crunched the gravel as I walked to the employee parking lot where our van was parked.
Before I could use the remote to turn off the car alarm, I heard voices coming from the pool house. The party was inside, so whoever was there must have snuck off to be alone.
Figuring it was none of my business, I walked toward the back of the van when I heard, “Baaabbeee... you are soooo bad.”
I would recognize that voice anywhere. Was my mind playing tricks on me, or was it really...?
I stayed in the shadows and walked toward the voices.
“Mmmm,” a man said. “I’m not bad. You’re the naughty one. Come here and let me give you your punishment.”
The woman giggled and the more I heard that voice the more I was sure it was her.
Peeking my head around the corner of the poolhouse, my suspicion was confirmed. It was Kimberly. And she was having sex with Senator Donaldson, pressed up against the wall of his own poolhouse, while his wife was inside eating chicken satay.
I froze in my tracks. Shit, shit, shit. I needed to get out of there and for her not to see me.
I tiptoed in the shadows back to the house, all the while thinking, “What an idiot! Didn’t she know that I was catering this event? She’s going to cheat on her fiance at a party being catered by her own caterer?”
Then again, I hadn’t seen her at the party either. Maybe she didn’t know. Either way, I was disgusted. She is literally engaged to a dream guy—a billionaire who doesn’t even love her—and she’s screwing around on him. It was then that my mental debate kicked in.
I should tell him about this.
No, I shouldn’t. It’s not much different than what we were doing in the kitchen the other day.
We were kissing, not having sex.
You might have. You were interrupted by the phone.
Maybe he already knows she does this. Maybe that’s why he kissed you? Maybe he’s just some playboy and what he told you is just his cover story. Like the married guy who tells his mistress that he’s not having sex with his wife. Until she turns up pregnant.
I couldn’t think about it any more. I was in the middle of catering a party. As I burst in the door, James was standing there. “Did you find it?”
What? Oh! The lasagne. “No. I didn’t find what I was looking for.”
Sadly, I found something much worse.
Chapter Eight: There’s No Such Thing As Too Much Chocolate
I was mentally counting everything again to make sure we were going to have enough food. I’d been a little distracted ever since the Donaldson party and wanted to make sure we didn’t have another lasagne florentine issue again. We’d played it off just fine, but mistakes like that could ruin our business. The offending dish had been sitting on the counter of the kitchen when we got back from the event. I gave it to James to take home so it wouldn’t go to waste and gave the client a discount for the food that was paid for but not served.
Bryant and Kimberly’s party was tomorrow afternoon. If it hadn’t been so close to the event, I’d have helped them find another caterer. This whole thing with Kimberly cheating and all the stuff Bryant had said to me that day—it was just too much. I’d gotten carried away, largely because of that book we were reading. I needed to scale it back and keep focusing on the business.
Whatever game Kimberly and Bryant were playing—they could keep playing it themselves. I was going to get through the engagement party, turn down the wedding gig (even though it would have meant a lot of exposure) and just grow my business. That was the only passion I needed for the moment.
“What else do we need to do, James? Where’s the master list?”
“It’s on the fridge. I think we are good. The only things that are left are the things we need to do the day of.”
Just then, his phone beeped. “Hey, do you mind if I take off? My date is waiting for me at that new bar on Orange and... well...” He grinned and bit his lip playfully. It really was too bad I didn’t find him attractive. He was quite a catch.
“Sure, go ahead. I’m going to stay here and make some more of the chocolate leaves for the tiramisu. There’s no such thing as too much chocolate.”
“You got that right, Boss.” James headed toward the door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Oh, and James?” I said, causing him to turn around as he was half out the door.