A Catered Romance Page 8

  He scanned her face. “The meeting yesterday took longer than I expected and I didn’t get a chance to talk to you.” He smiled. “By the way, your food was a big hit. We reviewed your business plan and potential earnings, and after tasting your food, I look like a hero for bringing your company into the Sackett fold.”

  Mary Beth relaxed. She could handle talking business with him. “That’s great. Gail and I know our food is terrific, but we need validation from our customers. And we like people to enjoy our cooking.”

  His jaw tightened. “Some of the men enjoyed more than your food.”

  “What?”

  “Stay away from von Zuben. He’s bad news.”

  Anger stiffened her spine. “You may run my business, but you don’t run my life.”

  Frustration and determination shone from Tom’s eyes. “I am not telling you what to do, or who to see. It’s just that von Zuben is trouble. I don’t want you mixed up with him. He’s not your type.”

  “How do you know?” she asked, placing her hand on her hip.

  He moved closer. Her breath faltered.

  “You’re not the casual affair type,” he said. “Von Zuben is looking for a little action while he’s here. He has a fiancée back in Munich.”

  Indignation made her reckless. “Maybe I don’t care if he has a fiancée. Maybe I enjoy casual affairs.” She’d never consider dating the smooth-talking German, but she wouldn’t let Tom know that.

  “Then you plan to go out with him?” His voice was strained.

  “That’s none of your business.”

  He flinched. “It is none of my business.” He closed the gap between them until he stood directly in front of her. Her heart did crazy little flips.

  His features softened. “No, you won’t go out with him.” He twisted his hand around her braid where it rested on her shoulder and pulled her gently toward him. “You’re not his type, Cat Eyes.”

  “Whose type am I?” she whispered.

  “My type,” he rasped.

  She knew she should back away, but the fire in his deep blue eyes held her.

  He placed his hands on her shoulders. “While I’m gone, I want you to remember something if von Zuben or any other guy comes around.”

  She couldn’t breathe. “Remember what?”

  “This.”

  His mouth captured hers in a kiss that shattered her world. Self-preserving fear fought with the excitement that sang through her bones. She splayed her hands against his chest, battling the magnetism that drew her under his spell.

  Tom’s deliberate possession of her mouth pushed aside her defenses. Feelings she didn’t want to acknowledge gnawed around the edges of her soul, demanding release.

  What little resistance she had crumbled in a heap at her feet. She melted against him, savoring his warmth and his taste of peppermint and coffee.

  He trailed kisses down her neck to the base of her throat. “So sweet,” he murmured against her skin.

  The past, the present, the world, dissolved, leaving her in a magical place where only she and Tom existed. All that mattered, all she knew, was Tom’s closeness and warmth. She slid her arms around his neck, twining her fingers in the thickness of his crisp hair.

  With a groan, he pulled her closer. She lost herself in his strength and heat.

  The jangling of the front doorbell, followed by the secretary’s melodic greeting, penetrated Mary Beth’s brain like soft whispers waking her from a wonderful dream. She didn’t want to wake up.

  The voices continued, poking into her consciousness, until the dream and the magic popped like a champagne cork.

  With a soft cry, she pushed away from Tom. He grasped her upper arms. His breathing was ragged and his blue eyes looked tormented.

  Her heart beat with such ferocity she felt sure Tom could see it pumping against her chest. She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, unable to talk, barely able to breathe.

  They stared at each other for long seconds. Finally Tom dropped his arms to his sides. A short laugh escaped him.

  “The joke’s on me, Cat Eyes,” he said in a husky voice.

  “Joke?”

  “I intended to kiss you so thoroughly you wouldn’t look at another man while I’m gone.”

  He skimmed a long, slender finger down her cheekbone to her mouth, rubbing her bottom lip and eliciting a soft moan from her. “Instead, I’m the one who will be lying awake in a lonely hotel room, missing you,” he said softly. “The next two weeks will be torture.”

  He bent to brush a tender kiss across her lips, then turned and strode away.

  Mary Beth sagged against the counter. “Damn you,” she whispered to his retreating back.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Where should I put this, Ms. Kendrick?”

  “Set it on the table over there, Janice. Thanks.”

  Mary Beth directed the teenage server to one of several wooden tables set up on the spacious lawn of the Sackett estate. Needing a break, she rubbed the aching muscles at the back of her neck and scanned the rolling property, exquisitely landscaped with ornamental and exotic trees and shrubs. Colorful wildflowers grew in designed abandon.

  After all these years she was finally at Tom’s parents’ house. She’d always dreamed of being invited. Of course, her fantasies didn’t include being there as the hired help.

  She smiled. Not exactly hired help. She and Gail had scored the most sought-after catering contract of the season—the Sackett family’s annual cookout.

  Excitement skittered up her spine as she surveyed the groups of chattering, well-dressed guests, the cream of Wilmington and Philadelphia society. They sat at round white-clothed tables under bright blue umbrellas and wandered in and out of the large yellow-and-white-striped tent where a three-piece string ensemble played chamber music.

  Humming softly, Mary Beth turned to the table behind her. Small crystal bowls were stacked next to a larger one brimming with fresh fruit. She separated the bowls and began arranging them around the fruit.

  After today, Kendrick and Company would be on its way to becoming the caterer of choice among Wilmington’s glitterati. Things couldn’t be better…working in a beautiful place with charming people, doing the job she loved, and doing it well. She skimmed her finger over the fine etchings on one of the bowls. Her happiness could fill all the dishes on the table.

  The truth nudged her. Business success wasn’t the only reason for the joy that had been with her from the minute she woke up. Tom. He was due back from Pittsburgh. She’d missed him more than she liked to admit. He made her laugh and smile and feel happier than she had in a long time.

  Soon he’d come striding confidently through the crowd. To her. Her stomach clenched in delicious anticipation.

  Stepping back, she surveyed her handiwork. She rubbed her fingers over her lips, the table setting forgotten, as memories of Tom’s shattering kiss two weeks ago burned into her. Since then her waking hours were filled with him and her dreams were romantic, erotic fantasies where she and Tom existed in a haze of love free of the outside world and its problems.

  “Ms. Kendrick, I need your help.”

  Startled out of her sweet reverie, Mary Beth turned in the direction of the frantic teenager’s voice. Kate. She smiled. The girl was a doll, but so clumsy.

  “Be right there, Kate,” she called out.

  She moved a bowl a quarter inch, and satisfied, started toward the hapless teen.

  She spotted Taylor Bennett and Tom’s very pregnant sister Maureen walking in her direction. Their heads, one blonde, one raven, were bent together in conversation.

  Wistfulness twisted inside Mary Beth. She’d never belong to the rarefied world of the Sacketts and Bennetts. Pride steeled her. She didn’t need or want their world.

  Tom’s sister threw her a friendly smile. Maureen’s eyes, so like Tom’s, sparkled with interest as her gaze swept Mary Beth. Taylor smoothed back her sleek platinum hair with fuchsia-tipped fingers and slid Mary Beth a glance, a sm
ug smile on her lips.

  “I can’t wait till next weekend,” Taylor said to Maureen. “Tommy and I will be together at the shore for three whole days.” Her words, loud and clear over the buzz of the crowd, sawed through Mary Beth like a rusty blade.

  Tripping on the uneven ground, Mary Beth swayed against a wooden serving cart. The air seemed to be sucked out of her lungs as if she were caught in a tornado. The vivid colors of the wildflowers and the bright clothes worn by the guests blurred, making her dizzy.

  “Ms. Kendrick. Please. I need you.”

  While a part of her helped Kate clean up the spill, directed some of the serving crew, and smiled at guests, Mary Beth’s soul screamed in stunned disbelief.

  Tom and Taylor spending a weekend together. He had toyed with her. Again. Anger and humiliation boiled inside her.

  She sank into a nearby chair and swiped at the sweat beading on her forehead. The sun still rode high in the sky, but storm clouds covered her heart.

  She’d dreamed of Tom, hungered to touch him, to watch the play of sunlight on his black hair, to see him smile, hear him laugh, kiss him. But he wasn’t coming home to her. Taylor and her high society life still claimed him.

  Gripping the wide arm of the chair, Mary Beth fought the nausea that was snaking its way from her stomach to her chest.

  At least this time she was spared public humiliation. No one knew of her dashed hopes. She should be grateful to Taylor for showing her where she stood with Tom. Betrayal the second time around would be too much to bear.

  “Here. Drink this.” Gail appeared in front of her, thrusting a large frosted glass of water at her. A lemon wedge floated along the top.

  “Thanks.” She took the glass with a shaky hand and gulped the cool, citrus-flavored liquid.

  “Your face is as white as that chair,” Gail said. “What happened?”

  “Nothing I want to talk about.”

  “Well get a grip,” Gail said. “Von Zuben’s looking for you. And Tom’s here.” She nodded toward the tent.

  Tom. A pang of joy, quickly suppressed, jolted Mary Beth. Taking a long sip of water, she forced herself to stand slowly. Handing her half-empty glass to a passing waiter, she composed her face into what she hoped was a calm mask.

  “I can barely get through this party now, let alone deal with Kurt’s leering. It’s bad enough that he hung around our place the last two weeks trying to get a date with me.” She twisted her hand around her braid. “And I couldn’t care less about Tom. Besides we’re working.”

  “Touchy, touchy,” Gail said. “We can take it easy for a while. Things are humming along nicely. The guests are happily marinated with alcohol and the barbecue chefs are grilling up filet mignons to die for.”

  “I prefer to keep busy,” Mary Beth said. Despite her resolve to push Tom from her mind, her gaze wandered to the tent.

  Tom, flanked by his parents, stood with a small group of talking, laughing people. Mary Beth’s gaze drank in the sight him, absorbing every detail like a wilted flower thirsty for sustenance.

  The khaki shorts he wore showed off his long muscular legs. His white T-shirt stretched across his broad chest. His slightly disheveled hair and the lines of fatigue fingering his mouth made him look vulnerable. Achingly vulnerable.

  She pressed a hand to her stomach, fighting the craving that made her want to throw herself in his arms, to smooth the tired planes of his face.

  Taylor’s revelations slammed into her mind. Anger hit her with the swiftness of a summer storm. She dug her nails into her palms.

  Tom drew apart from the group surrounding him and scanned the crowd. Probably looking for Taylor. Jealousy, like a poker, jabbed Mary Beth in the ribs.

  The sweet scent of barbecue sauce and the pungent odor of roasting meat, so enjoyable moments ago, sickened her. So did the image of Tom and Taylor spending a weekend together.

  Her anger and hurt couldn’t stop her gaze from seeking his across the rolling lawn. He threw her a smile that seemed to caress every inch of her body. Her breath caught; her mind filled with confusion. Just being near Tom rattled her completely.

  He headed in her direction, moving with the easy grace she knew so well. Her heart beat wildly.

  “Mary Beth, you have been avoiding me.”

  She started. Kurt von Zuben stood at her elbow.

  “Kurt, I told you earlier that I was busy.”

  “How busy will you be now that Sackett has returned?” Amusement lit his silver eyes.

  “That doesn’t concern you,” she said.

  Tom approached, a scowl on his face.

  “Von Zuben,” he said. “Still bothering the ladies? Can’t you see they’re working?”

  Apparently Tom considered her just an employee. Resentment and hurt collided in Mary Beth, making her stiffen.

  “They don’t seem to mind, Sackett,” Kurt said.

  The men glared at each other.

  “Glad you could make it, Tom,” Gail said, positioning herself between the two men.

  “Gail.” Tom nodded.

  He looked past her to Mary Beth. “How have you been, Mary Beth?”

  The huskiness of his voice and the heat in his eyes sent delicious shivers up her spine.

  Determined to resist his pull, she squared her shoulders and met his gaze. “I’m fine, Tom. How was your trip?” She struggled to sound impersonal.

  “The trip was rough,” he said, frowning. His questioning gaze threatened her fragile control.

  She wanted to brush away the raven lock of hair that fell over his forehead. To tell him how much she’d missed him.

  Holding her body rigid, she let anger seep in. He would be with Taylor next weekend.

  “I need to fix the salad,” she said, turning away. She grabbed salad utensils from the table and began tossing the mixed greens that filled a large ceramic bowl. Her hands shook. Vegetables flew off the forks and onto the table. Counting to ten, she forced herself to calm down.

  “Have you sampled the food?” she heard Gail ask.

  “I haven’t eaten yet,” Tom said. “But my parents and their guests are raving about the food. You two are a hit, as usual.”

  Mary Beth could feel Tom’s stare boring into her back, but she refused to look at him.

  “These angels of the kitchen are magnificent cooks,” Kurt said in his clipped German accent.

  “Kurt’s been around our shop so much in the past two weeks that he’s become our official taster,” Gail said.

  “The food wasn’t the only appeal,” von Zuben answered.

  Mary Beth could feel Kurt’s stare too, but she continued to work, carefully measuring out salad into smaller dishes.

  “We need to talk, von Zuben. I told you to keep your distance.”

  The menacing tone of Tom’s voice made Mary Beth’s pulse quicken. She swung around to look at him. His mouth was set in a tight line. Tension throbbed between the two men.

  Mary Beth frowned. Tom couldn’t possibly be jealous. He didn’t care about her. He was just worried about spoiling his mother’s party. Sadness pulled at her insides.

  “Tommy, darling, there you are.”

  Taylor slinked across the lawn toward them. The skimpy white dress she wore showed off the perfection of her long, tanned body.

  Bile rose in Mary Beth’s throat. She couldn’t stand to see Taylor with Tom, to see her fuchsia-tipped fingers stroke his bare arm.

  “I have work to do,” she said, walking quickly away.

  “Mary Beth. Wait.” Tom caught up with her, grabbing her arm and pulling her around to face him.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “We have to talk.” The longing and confusion in his eyes weakened her resolve.

  “I’m busy,” she said, pulling free before she could give in to her own needs and hold him close. “This is an important job.”

  Chin high, she strode away. Her heart seemed to crack in two. Just when the wounds of the past had started to dissolve, when she had begun to trust Tom aga
in…

  She clenched her hands at her sides, fighting the bitterness and pain. She couldn’t let him know how much the thought of him and Taylor together hurt.

  <><><>

  Tom watched her graceful, hip-swaying exit. His heart thudded in his chest.

  He had missed Mary Beth so much in the past two weeks that he thought he’d go crazy if he didn’t see her, touch her, kiss her. Her flashing green eyes, wide smile, and sultry voice had kept him awake many nights.

  Instead of the joyous, heated reunion he’d anticipated, he’d been greeted with enough ice to freeze his parents’ swimming pool. What was wrong now? If her coldness had anything to do with von Zuben…no, he couldn’t think about that.

  He wanted to run after her, make her talk to him, look at him with warmth instead of ice chips in her eyes. But he knew better than to push her. For whatever reason, she needed her space. He’d give it to her, for now.

  <><><>

  “I’ve got to get a life,” Mary Beth muttered. She stared out her apartment window to the almost-deserted street. It seemed everyone was someplace else this July Fourth. Even her mother was with friends.

  Her mother. Mary Beth smoothed her hand over her hair and shook her head. Since her mom had started working at the florist shop, she’d bloomed like the flowers she tended. Her mother actually planned a visit to Aunt Linda in Arizona next month. The woman had a more active social life than she did.

  And Tom was at the shore with Taylor. All day the bitter refrain had been pounding at her like the ocean surf. Images of the couple laughing, walking on the beach, making love, washed over her in waves of hurt and anger.

  “Damn it.” She stamped her foot. Her cat, stretched out on the wide, sunny windowsill, opened one green eye to stare at her.

  “I’m a jerk, Missy. Why am I alone on a holiday, obsessing over Tom and Taylor?”

  She had to get a grip. She and Tom had shared a few kisses. So what? As long as her company thrived, it didn’t matter who he spent time with.

  Liar, liar, a tiny voice prodded. She paced the small living room, trying to ease the frustration that ate at her.

  Tom hadn’t called her once in the five days since the cookout. Not once.