Cooking Up A Seduction

by Jenna Bayley-Burke

  “That man needs to fire his maid.” Anne, perpetually in charge of cleanliness, bustled her spindly body into the kitchen and dropped her towels and sprays into a box by the door. She peeled off her rubber gloves and smoothed her hands over gray hair locked away in a tight bun before addressing the group again. “That bathroom looked clean, but it was filthy. Disgusting.”

  “Never trust what looks clean actually is.” Lauren gave a smile to her friend. Anne’s job went unnoticed by clients, but was invaluable. A caterer was only as good as the last party, and if someone got sick…Lauren didn’t want to go there. Not tonight, when things would go perfectly.

  “I’ll go dress the bathroom.” Anne said, picking up the heavy box full of towels linens and candles.

  “I left an extra vase of roses on the sidebar. Will you place it on the vanity?” Lauren watched as she nodded and walked out of the kitchen with purpose.

  “You went overboard with the roses.” Diego’s white teeth flashed against his dark skin.

  Lauren returned the smile. “Don’t let the tenderloin get past medium, oh wise one.” She stuck out her tongue for good measure.

  “Don’t you worry about it. You have bigger problems, like slicing that Brie. Leave it on the counter any longer and you won’t be able to cut it into chunks.”

  Damn. Why did he always have to be right? About food anyway. Lauren stepped quickly to the counter. She uncapped the Chambord and poured in enough to make the martinis delicious and placed the pitcher into the stainless steel refrigerator.

  “That is one impressive piece of man.” Anne returned to the kitchen and set the box down, pretending to faint into one of the kitchen chairs. “I’m talking TDH in a power suit. And the brightest blue eyes I have ever seen. Iridescent almost. Yummy.”

  Electric blue eyes! Oh dear. This could be a problem. Lauren closed her eyes and took a deep breath, the handsome face of a guest at one of the Anders’ parties two years ago filling her mind. She shook her head to dispel the piercing cerulean gaze making her pulse race.

  She hadn’t caught his name, or seen him since. But damn if he didn’t have the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. And he’d spiced up her dreams on more than one occasion. Damn, damn, and double damn. She knew better than to ogle random party guests. Just her luck, that guest turned into her client.

  “What are you talking about?” Lauren kept her hands busy with the Brie, reminding herself no one knew what she’d fantasized about.

  Anne crossed to the sink, washing her hands. “I think it’s the client, Price, but I didn’t ask. I’m telling you, if I were twenty years younger I would have offered to have his children.”

  “Anne!” Lauren bumped her with her hip. “No propositioning the clients. We’re a full service catering company, but that’s one service I draw the line at.”

  “Besides, he could play for my team,” Ricky added.

  “That’s true,” Anne said with a sigh. “He did seem rather pleased with the way Lauren dressed the rooms.”

  Lauren grinned; glad she’d impressed him. Not because he might be the man she drooled over, but because she needed this account. The Anders’ entertained here a few times a year, but they were on the East Coast the rest of the time. If Cameron Price took over for him on the West Coast, this account had amazing potential. Save them from catering for frantic brides kind of potential.

  She finished off the salads, sprinkling yellow pear tomatoes, the cubes of creamy Brie, toasted pine nuts and the sweetened raspberries over the mesclun. She loved this salad; the vibrant colors always impressed. She stored the plates in the bare fridge. There hadn’t been a single thing inside it when they arrived.

  “The potato crisps are done,” Lauren said, scrunching her nose as she sniffed the air.

  “One more minute.” Diego continued to be mesmerized by cuddling the giant bowl and whisking his pale green soup.

  “One more minute and they’ll be burned. And that charred stench will permeate the house.” Lauren turned to face him, placing her hands on her hips.

  “Lauren you really should take a peek.” Anne leaned a hip against the counter. “He was walking up the stairs, and in all my years I have never seen a more perfect –”

  “Hey!” Diego cut in, setting the large bowl on the counter. “If I were talking about a woman that way, you’d all have my head.”

  “Your ass is nice too, buttercup.” Anne offered a matronly smile.

  Why did everyone have their hormones in a knot? “Fine! I’ll take care of the potatoes myself.” She marched towards the oven, pulling a towel off the counter to grab the pan with. The corner of the towel must have been under the bowl because it spun out of control and off the counter.

  Sounds rushed at her ears. The clatter of the whisk as it flew out of the bowl and bounced against the granite, the thud of the bowl as it jumped onto the hardwood floor, the splat of the soup as it sloshed across her body, dripping down her face, against her starched white shirt and down her pants, where it met the rest of the dish soaking her feet. Everyone froze, staring at her for a second before Diego began barking orders.

  “Ricky, take the potatoes out and sprinkle them with gray salt. Anne, you’re on this soup mess.” He stepped closer to her and reached out a hand to touch her, but pulled it back, probably to avoid coating himself with avocado. “Do you have another uniform in the car?”

  Lauren shook her head, watching everyone bustle around her. “I picked up my dry cleaning on the way here, but –”

  “Ricky, go to Lauren’s car and grab her dry cleaning bag.” Ricky’s curly head disappeared before she could protest. But then, what choice did she have? She stared down at her sensible black loafers, covered in green slime.

  “Anne, I don’t suppose you have any shoes in your car?”

  Cameron had barely unpacked his suitcases and he already had to put on a performance for the team of people who probably all thought they should’ve been given his job. He preferred to sit on the sidelines and watch everyone else show their colors. But tonight, he was the one on show.

  He stood on the landing and leaned over the railing, taking in the view of the downstairs. Come For Dinner catering earned every penny, no matter what they charged him. The house looked better than he’d ever seen it. Sonja Anders had decorated everything in white. Sterile, stark, cold. Now the rooms were washed in warm light, red scarves covering the lampshades and adding to the ambiance.

  It was intimate, without being romantic. Classic, without being feminine. Everything he needed it to be. A weight lifted from him as he descended the stairs. He liked that it looked different, not wanting to seem like junior filling in for the boss.

  The change in lighting, red pillows and throws on the couches, lush green plants in shiny silver pots, and little vases overflowing with red roses lining the dining room table and scattered on every other open surface made a statement. Saying to all who entered he was here to make his mark on the company.

  At the base of the staircase he checked his watch. Ten minutes until the party started; guests would be arriving any minute. He wiped his palms against the gray wool of his slacks and closed his eyes, enjoying the solitude while he could.

  A warm force plowed into his chest, opening his eyes with a start. He gripped the whirlwind by her slim shoulders and looked into her large round eyes framed by long blonde eyelashes. He couldn’t help but grin at the startled look in that gold-flecked green gaze. Without letting her go, he pulled back taking in the smattering of freckles crossing her button nose, the long strawberry blonde hair pulled tight into a braid, and the milky skin of her shoulders, bare but for the thin spaghetti straps of her gauzy black dress. He blinked hard, bringing himself out of shock and dropped his hands, running one through his hair.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize anyone had arrived yet.” Cameron looked about the room for her date, but saw no one. She looked vaguely familiar, but both of the female executives invited were old enough to be this woman’s mother. “Who
did you come with?”

  An impish grin played on her pouty pink lips. She held out her hand. “I’m Lauren Brody, with Come For Dinner catering.”

  “Oh. I apologize for assuming.” Stupid. Caterers could be pretty and well dressed. “I just never expected… wait, have we met?”

  Her head jerked back and she gasped, her hand pressing against her stomach. Then just as quickly as she reacted, she calmed. “No we haven’t been introduced. But I’ve catered parties for the Anderses.” Her voice was breathy, almost to the point of a whisper.

  “Have you decorated this way before?” His stomach sank. He’d look like a Bob Anders clone, the king of suck-ups.

  “No.” She shook her head. “Mrs. Anders had her own sense of style. But I assumed since you had so little time to organize the dinner, you wouldn’t have time to decorate as well. It’s a service we provide for many of our single male clients.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “How did you know I was single?”

  “I asked your assistant. I needed to know if you would have a date for the evening, for the seating arrangements.”

  He nodded furiously. Right, seating arrangements. Couldn’t just tell people to plop down wherever at a formal dinner. Thank goodness Lauren had him covered on that end. For the last two years Sonja Anders had been gently reminding him he should have a wife, but lately her approach grew more direct. As in blatantly telling him he couldn’t handle his new position without a wife. As if he had the time or energy to devote to a relationship.

  Sonja Anders was obviously wrong. He didn’t need a wife, just Come For Dinner catering.

  “If you’d like,” Lauren began, “I could give you a run through of how the night will go.” She crossed the room, turning on the stereo and picking up butane lighter from an end table. Cameron had to smile as the sounds of Pink Martini filled the large room.

  “Isn’t that a little loud?”

  “You want it just a smidge to loud at the beginning. Nothing is worse than stepping into a silent house. Gets the social swirl moving. Do you like it? If it’s not your style I have blues, classical, Etta James.”

  “No, I’m a fan. The founder went to Harvard, so they’re pretty big back there.”

  “You went to Harvard?” Cameron nodded. “Impressive. And a relief. They are perfect for entertaining, so Hang On Little Tomato follows Sympathique.”

  Cameron liked her before, but with eclectic tastes in music mirroring his own, she was dancing in dangerous territory. If he had time, or cared to risk his reputation with trying a relationship, she’d be an option. But showing his vulnerability to the world was not.

  “I’ll turn it down as we start serving cocktails. Raspberry Martinis, and of course, Chivas for Mr. Anders. We’ll be serving potato crisps with a caviar dip.” She slid about the room lighting candles. Did she know he needed to romance the team into trusting him?

  “For dinner I’ll lower the volume more. Anita Baker should get us through the salad, and beef filet. I’ll turn it up later on when we serve a flourless chocolate cake with raspberries for dessert.”

  He watched as she walked around the room like she owned the place, far more comfortable there than he was. But then, she knew how to throw a party. He was in uncharted territory. He could convince people to invest millions in a groundbreaking idea with nothing more than his word, but he had no idea how to get those same people to enjoy a party.

  “Thank you for putting all of this together tonight. It’s exactly what I needed.”

  A gleaming smile lit her face, lifting her rosy cheeks. “I’m glad to hear that. I hope–”

  The shrill peal of the phone interrupted her. Cameron held up a finger so she would hold that thought and stepped to the side table lifting the receiver. Before he got out so much as a hello, the doorbell chimed.

  Two

  Lauren scampered to the door, grateful for the chance to catch her breath. She’d tried to focus on work while talking to Cameron Price, but she kept getting distracted by his bright blue eyes, fringed with unfairly long dark lashes. And that voice. A rich baritone, filled with lascivious suggestion.

  She checked her lip for drool and pulled open the front door. Bob and Sonja Anders stood at the entry and she stepped aside, waving them in. Sonja arched a perfectly shaped blonde brow and eyed Lauren as she entered the foyer.

  Looking down at her feet, Lauren winced. Barefoot. Great way to impress a woman like Sonja Anders, shod in Prada’s finest.

  “Can I take your coats?” Lauren offered, looking for any chance to slip away. In seconds Sonja would be commenting on Lauren’s lack of uniform and footwear, which might mean she’d have to explain about the unfortunate avocado incident. Best to disappear rather than let a client know something had gone wrong.

  “Bob can hang them in the closet.” Sonja shrugged out of her ivory sheared mink coat to reveal an elegant off-white boucle dress suit. “Did you bring extra hangers down?”

  Lauren nodded and wished she hadn’t doused herself in avocado. In her work uniform she knew her place. Her perfect little black dress usually made her feel confident and sexy, but next to Sonja Anders’ obvious couture the black silk dress felt off season. And being three years old, it was.

  “This is very interesting,” Sonja said as Bob retreated with their coats. “I had no idea. I should have thought of it. You are the perfect solution.”

  “Am I?” Lauren smiled, lost and desperately needed a translation. Was Sonja commenting on the slight changes in décor?

  “You know, it makes perfect sense. He’s just so private about these matters. I actually asked Bob if he might be gay.”

  Lauren’s eyes widened in confusion. Sonja smiled and patted her arm.

  “I know. It would be a crying shame.”

  “Sorry about that.” Cameron said, joining them and standing beside her. Lauren was glad for the reprieve from Sonja’s confusing scrutiny.

  “I’m going to go check on dinner. It was nice seeing you again.” She smiled at Sonja and tried to retreat to the less puzzling confines of the kitchen, but Cameron’s warm fingers on her arm stalled her.

  “Thank you, Lauren. For everything.” Oh, that smile could be lethal. Absolutely deadly. Lauren nodded and prayed he used his powers for good rather than evil.

  “There are quite a few women who will be very disappointed.” Sonja Anders’ voice lilted as she shook her head and smiled, her perfectly coifed blonde hair not moving an inch.

  “How so?” Never sure what to make of her, Cameron tried to remain noncommittal and hoped Bob would come back from the coat closet soon.

  “You know Cameron, you could have told me you were seeing someone, saved me the trouble of compiling a list of potential women for you. But then,” she laid a hand on his arm, the blood-red manicured fingernails bright against the dark gray of his shirt, “this is new, isn’t it? I’ll keep the list, just in case.”

  Damn. Sonja thought he and Lauren were together. He swallowed hard at the idea of Sonja Anders trying to set him up. He had no time for dating, and even if he did care to, he couldn’t risk it, not with so much on the line.

  “What’s this?” Bob Anders asked, joining the group.

  “Cameron is seeing Lauren Brody,” Sonja supplied.

  “Who’s that?” Bob scrunched his round face.

  “The caterer.”

  “Oh. Good choice. But a bit quick, Cameron.”

  “I agree. If she doesn’t work out, he can start with a few of my suggestions.”

  Cameron cleared his throat. “I’m not taking suggestions.” The Anderses had been parental with him since Bob invited him to join the firm five years ago, but this was over the line.

  “Cameron, don’t start this again.” Sonja pursed her lips and crossed her arms across her chest. “You need someone to help you manage your life. You don’t understand the difficulty of the position you are taking on. The paycheck may only have your name on it, but it is a partnership. You need someone to manage the house, c
oordinate when you entertain, and be your eyes and ears at events. You can’t do this alone.”

  “I’m not. I have Lauren.” Cameron understood why Sonja would be so sensitive about this, thinking he needed a wife the way Bob needed her. But he wasn’t about to go on dates to validate her sense of self-worth.

  “For now.” Bob nodded. “And she is a great short term solution, but if things sour you’ll be without a companion and a caterer. You should take out a few of Sonja’s choices, so you have options.”

  “No.” Cameron shook his head and sighed. How did he make this stop without creating tension with the Anderses? The last thing he needed were people thinking he and Anders had a rift.

  Sonja chuffed. “It can’t be that serious with her already. You just got here.”

  “She’s been catering your parties for years.” Stop. Stop now. “Parties I attended, Sonja.” What are you doing?

  “Oh.” Sonja stood up straighter. “My. Well, that certainly makes more sense now.”

  “Good.” Glad it did to someone.

  “So that’s why you never brought a date with you to parties in New York.” Bob’s cheery grin spread across his face. “You sly devil, you had a girlfriend back here all along. No wonder you agreed so quickly to the move. I thought I’d have to sell you on it, but you jumped at the chance. I’m glad things are so serious.”

  Cameron opened his mouth, but didn’t know what to say. He’d only meant to make Sonja and Bob stop their badgering, not lie his way into a long-term relationship.

  Thankfully the doorbell rang again, saving him from having to explain. Though, maybe he wouldn’t have to explain tonight. If he could just make it through this party, he could sort the rest out later.

  “Would you mind getting that?” he asked Bob. “I want to see what’s keeping Lauren.”

  Cameron dashed off without waiting for a response, needing to see if she’d be at all willing to play along for a night. He headed down the hallway to the kitchen he hadn’t so much as stepped into yet.