by Nikki Ashton
Martha looked back up to Luke’s face to see him grinning at her.
“Erm, like what you see?” he asked, laughing softly.
Martha felt her face blaze, and it wasn’t through the efforts of her running. She hadn’t realised just how much she was ogling him.
“Sorry,” she stammered, feeling her cheeks flush.
Luke, totally unfazed and used to strange women undressing him with their eyes, shook Martha’s hand.
“I believe you’re our new cook as well as our neighbour, according to Valerie at the shop, is that right?” he asked. “Sorry we haven’t been formally introduced, but my sister kind of took over.”
Martha pulled her hand away from his warm grip and gulped.
“That’s okay.” She wasn’t due to start work until the following Monday and had really wanted time to prepare for this moment. She’d hoped to have had a manicure at least.
“Well, I’m sure we’ll get along just fine,” Luke said. He leaned back against the car and folded his arms across his chest. “I trust Gabriella’s judgement,” he smiled, and Martha felt naked as his eyes wandered up and down her body.
Martha fought to regain her composure and by his grin, Luke was evidently aware that she wasn’t winning.
“I hope so,” she said eventually, avoiding Luke’s gaze. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“Excellent, well one of your first jobs will be to cater a house-warming party that I’m throwing next Saturday. Do you think you can handle that?”
“Yes!” Martha snapped, feeling slightly aggrieved that he would feel the need to ask such a question. “How many people?”
“About three hundred.”
“Fu – oh blimey that’s a lot.” Martha had never catered for that many people before, not even when she’d worked in one of the area’s busiest restaurants. She mentally worked out whether she had the time to prepare a buffet for three hundred people or whether it was actually a good idea to work for Luke at all. Maybe if she rang Mrs Hendricks today it would give her time to find someone else. Then she mentally pulled up her big girl’s pants and straightened her shoulders. She could handle it, handle him – couldn’t she?
She suddenly panicked. “It will be a buffet you want, not a hot meal?”
Luke nodded. “Yeah, maybe a few hot dishes, if that’s okay with you, but otherwise a cold buffet is fine.”
“Do you want me write up some menu ideas?” Martha dared herself to look at him now, the heat had gone from her face, and so had the scarlet colour - hopefully.
“Nah, just do whatever you think. I trust you, and I can always dock your wages if you if you do a bad job.” Luke grinned and scuffed his boot across the dirt before pushing himself off the car.
Martha took a step back, scared that if he came too close she might be tempted to lick his face to find out whether he tasted as good as he looked. She blushed wondering where such a ridiculous notion had sprung from.
“Okay,” she muttered. “That’s great.”
“Great, well I’ll see you bright and early on Monday morning. I’m sure my mamma, or sister will be in touch with the final details before then. Or, you never know, I might even pop in for a cup of sugar.” He held out his hand to Martha again. “Nice to meet you.”
“Yes, you too and I’ll see you soon.” Martha took his hand warily and gently shook it.
“Hey, do I know you from somewhere?” Luke pulled his hand away and stared at Martha quizzically. “You look really familiar.”
Martha’s heart did a little “Fosbury flop”– oh God, he remembered her.
“We were at school together,” she said, her eyes darting everywhere except on his face. “Martha Bright, I was in the year below you, but we were in the school concert together in your final year.” Martha groaned inwardly waiting with trepidation as to whether he recalled anything.
“Really, no it wasn’t that…oh I know what it was, I used to have a cleaner that looked a bit like you, it’s the hair colour,” he said circling his finger near to his own hair. “Anyway, it’s great to meet you again Martha, sorry I don’t remember you from school, but to be honest I was only interested in older women in those days.”
With that he was back in his car, and speeding off down the lane leaving Martha smarting just a little, but also giving a sigh of relief that he didn’t remember the skinny, frizzy haired, fifteen year old Martha.
“So, what’s he like?” Betty asked as Martha came downstairs from having her shower.
“Hmm, what’s who like?” Martha reached around Betty to get a mug from the cupboard.
Betty laughed. “Bullshit, Mother. You know exactly who I mean – Luke Mahoney, your new boss. I saw you talking to him earlier.”
“Oh him, he’s okay, seems nice enough,” Martha replied nonchalantly as she poured tea into her mug.
“So if he’s only okay, why were you so flustered when you spoke to him?”
“I wasn’t.” Martha stared at Betty, trying to think back to whether she had made a fool of herself. “Was I? What did I do?”
“Well let’s see.” Betty started to count on her fingers. “You held his hand too long before shaking it, you were staring at him as though you’d never seen a man before, although it has been a while so I can understand that one, and you acted like a silly school girl.”
Martha held up her hands. “Ooh, guilty as charged M’Lord, obviously,” she replied sarcastically. “Anyway, you couldn’t know all that just by looking through your bedroom window.”
Betty shook her head as she took a bite of toast. “Oh no, I was hiding behind the conifer in the front garden. I wanted to see what he looked like and what all you old biddies see in him. He’s okay, but a bit ancient for me.”
Martha shot her the stare. “Too right young lady; he’s far too old for you. Although, he’s actually only thirty-four, so hardly ancient. That’s only a year older than me.” Martha rubbed her hand across her cheek, checking for wrinkles. “And don’t spy on people, it’s rude.”
“Whatever. I suppose he’s not that old, but he’s like, well a bit rough looking don’t you think. All those tattoos. I don’t think I’d like you seeing a boy with tattoos, Mum.”
Martha almost spat her tea across the table. “Hang on, who’s the parent here? Aside from which, I’m hardly likely to end up ‘seeing him’. He’s a rock star and used to bedding size zero supermodels, not five feet six, size twelve, single mothers. And in any case, he’s my boss.”
“Hey, don’t do yourself down,” Betty said. “You’re bloody sexy for a mother. I’d kill for bazookas like yours. The women on the sperm donor’s side must have been a real bunch of flatties.” Betty looked down at her chest and groaned.
“Please don’t refer to my breasts as bazookas, Betty, or your father as the sperm donor. Anyway, it’s not going to happen, so don’t worry about it.” Martha’s stomach churned as she thought of her meeting with Luke.
Betty got up from the table and rubbed Martha’s head, messing up her hair. “Who knows Mummy dearest, he may fancy having an FB on the doorstep. A quick session after work may be just up his street.”
“What’s an FB?” Martha asked as she didn’t get out much.
“Google it while you’re perving over Mr Mahoney, but let’s just say it’s a special kind of buddy. Anyway, see you later; I’m off to meet Ruby and Em, bye.”
“Yeah, later,” Martha replied as she pulled her laptop towards her.
Chapter 3
“Luciano, why aren’t you ready for the party? Your guests are arriving.” Lucia Mahoney, Luke’s mother, was searching desperately around their eight bedroomed mansion for her son.
The party had been Luke’s idea, but Lucia had done most of the organising. All Luke had done was to pay for the food that Martha had ordered. But it had been Lucia who had agreed on the menus with Martha and finalised all the details. Lucia shook her head. It was typical of Luciano to come up with an idea and then go missing and let everyone else sor
t it out.
“Nonna, he’s in here.” Noah, Luke’s twenty year old nephew sighed heavily as he held open the door to one of the guest bedrooms for his grandmother.
Lucia took a deep breath and fingered the pearls at her neck. She knew exactly what state she would find her son in. He rarely drank alcohol since the band had broken up, but when he did it was usually at the most inopportune time and usually in huge amounts. She was sure that today would be no exception.
Despite her recent heart attack, at sixty-five years of age, Lucia Mahoney looked at least ten years younger. Her hair was still raven black, usually, tied up in neat a chignon, and she carried herself poker straight and with grace, always wearing the most elegant outfits. Since her husband, Seamus, died five years ago she’d had many would be suitors, but Lucia wasn’t interested; no one would replace her beautiful Seamus. She’d met him when he’d been working through the summer on her father’s vineyard, when she was just sixteen years old and had never looked at another man since. Besides, it was highly unlikely Luke would allow anyone to step into his father’s shoes. Gabriella, Luke’s sister, was much more relaxed about her mother dating again, and would simply sigh and call Luke “Mamma’s bambino”.
“Luciano, wake up.” Lucia bent down and shook a snoring Luke’s shoulder vigorously. “Luciano.”
“He’s drunk?” Noah asked, peering down at his uncle.
Lucia nodded. “I’m afraid so. Go and get him some black coffee would you sweetheart? I’ll try and wake him.”
“Okay Nonna.” Noah left the room with a sigh.
Lucia moved to the en suite and filled two glasses with water. Moving back to her son, she threw them both into his face.
As the water hit him, Luke’s eyes sprang open. He coughed, spluttered and sat up, blinking at his mother with a confused expression on his dripping face.
“What, Mamma, what was that for?” he slurred. He flopped back against the pillow and groaned. “Ooh, my head hurts.”
“I should think it does. You do realise that the guests that you invited, to your party are now arriving and you are lying drunk in bed.”
“Oh.”
Lucia poked Luke in his shoulder.
“Oh? Is that all you have to say about it? Get up and get yourself ready. Noah has gone to get you some black coffee. Once you’ve drunk it, get into the shower – you stink of Jack Daniel’s.”
“I don’t think I can make it Mamma. You don’t need me there, do you?” Luke pulled himself up on his elbows and looked at his mother through one eye, closing the other against the late afternoon sun which blazed through the window.
"I will not tell you again, get up.” Lucia pointed her finger at Luke. “You have a responsibility to your guests.” She then turned and stormed, albeit extremely gracefully, from the room.
Luke pulled himself to the edge of the bed and threw his legs over the side. Not quite sure whether he could stand up just yet, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He dropped his head and rubbed his face with his hands and wondered why on earth had he arranged a bloody party in the first place? He sat there for a few minutes, trying to summon up the energy to get himself into the bathroom, but he had no desire to summon up anything.
“Uncle Luke, I’ve brought you some coffee.” Noah placed the coffee mug next to the bed and patted his uncle on the shoulder. “You should drink it, it might help.”
Luke looked up at Noah and puffed out his cheeks.
“I feel like shit,” he said. ”Do you think you could go and get my clothes from my bedroom for me please?” Noah nodded. “There’s some black jeans, a white t-shirt and a jacket on the end of my bed.”
“Okay, are you sure you don’t want to go back to your own room to shower?”
Noah held his hand out to pull his uncle from the bed, but Luke shook his head.
“Nope, not sure I’ll make it without puking to be honest. I just need a bit of time to get my shit together.”
“Alright, I’ll get them but please, Uncle Luke, don’t leave Nonna to do this party alone.”
Luke sighed and heaved himself off the bed. “I won’t, I promise.”
Downstairs in the dining room, Martha, Betty, Emma and Ruby were putting the finishing touches to the buffet for three hundred people. It had been touch and go for a while, with Martha unsure whether she could pull it off, but, she thought with pride, as she gazed at the tables laden with food, she had, and a damn good job she’d done too.
She had started working at the house only five days earlier, and so far hadn’t seen anything of Luke. Apparently, he was in London checking up on a couple of his businesses. That suited Martha, because it had unnerved her seeing him when she’d been out running, so much so that she’d even had an erotic dream about him two nights ago. She just hoped that he didn’t have that effect on her, every time she saw him, as she was far too young to put the hot sweats down to the menopause.
If she was honest, Luke not remembering her had hurt. They’d spent every night for a whole week on the same stage in the school’s end of year concert; Luke in the band and Martha in the choir. She’d at least expected him to remember her at the party on the last night – the bottom skimming skirt she’d worn had been bought particularly with Luke in mind. But when she thought about the fool that she'd made of herself that night, Martha was extremely relieved that he didn’t remember her. Then when it was his mum who called down to Gatekeeper’s Cottage to finalise everything for her new position, her feeling was one of disappointment. Okay, so he didn’t recall the fifteen year old Martha, but surely it would have been good manners to deal with her himself. He obviously thought that he was too big a star to take care of anything as menial as hiring staff.
“Mum, where do you want the prawn balls putting?” Betty asked holding a large platter under Martha’s nose.
“Oh, that table over there has all the fish dishes on it.” Martha pointed to a round table. “Thanks sweet pea.”
“It all looks lovely, Martha.” Lucia had quietly entered the dining room.
“Oh, thank you Mrs Mahoney; I just hope your guests think it all tastes as good as it looks.”
“Please, call me Lucia.”
Martha blushed slightly. There was something quite regal about Lucia Mahoney that made her want to call her Ma’am never mind Mrs Mahoney, so Lucia was going to be difficult to say.
“Actually, I could do with freshening up, is there somewhere I can go? I’m not really used to the layout of the house yet.”
“Of course dear, if you go upstairs the bedroom right at the top of the stairs should be free. It’s the only one that we don’t have guests in, and there’s an en suite in there.”
“That’s great, thank you.” Martha picked up her bag from a chair and went over to Betty who was giggling with Emma and Ruby. “What are you three giggling about?”
Betty’s face flamed and she lowered her eyes.
“Betty fancies Mr Mahoney’s nephew. He came in earlier and Betty nearly wet her knickers,” Em cried poking Betty in the arm.
“No I didn’t, don’t take any notice of her.” Betty scowled at Emma.
“Well, don’t forget you’re here to work, not to ogle boys.”
“God Mum, what’s your problem? Anyway he’s way out of my league.”
“You are a beautiful young woman Betty, but you’re going to university soon so there’s no point getting any ideas.”
“Okay, okay. Christ Em, what did you have to open your mouth for?”
“Sorry, I was only messing.”
Martha tutted and made for the door. “Well stop messing and get some work done. I’m going to freshen up so I look half presentable when the guests arrive.”
“Huh, more like when Luke Mahoney arrives,” Betty muttered before turning to Em. “She’s going to be watching us like a hawk now, well done Em.”
As she made her way up the stairs, Martha started to worry about Betty. She was hopefully going to university in September and
nothing should distract her from that. Martha knew exactly what getting involved with a boy could lead to and she didn’t want that for her daughter, but more especially not with Luke Mahoney’s nephew. If things went wrong not only would it upset Betty, but could also cost Martha her job.
She was still contemplating how to keep Betty concentrated on her A-levels, when she reached the guest bedroom that Mrs Mahoney had directed her to. Martha quietly opened the door, and stepped inside.
The room was huge, and beautifully decorated in pale lemons and greys with a thick soft, grey carpet that almost buried Martha’s feet. Closing the door behind her, Martha moved over to the window and stared down at the drive below, where the party guests were arriving both on foot and in what looked like expensive cars. The drive was flanked by lines of immaculately trimmed bushes and vast, neatly mown lawns that stretched up to the trees which disguised the wall surrounding the property. Martha sighed as she spotted her own little house at the end of the drive. It was tiny in comparison, like a postage stamp in the corner of a huge envelope – but she loved it nevertheless.
With one last look at the guests, to see if she could spot anyone famous, Martha turned to go to the bathroom. As she reached out for the handle, the door was flung open and she was greeted by the sight of a naked Luke Mahoney. With her hand poised inches away from grabbing his fairly large appendage, Martha let out a shriek and threw her bag into the air.