One Complicated Christmas Page 3
I removed my tea bag, placed it in the wastebasket, and then scrubbed the spots of water from the countertop. I didn’t stop there. A spot on the stainless-steel stove dulled the service, so I attacked that, too. “No, he’s back for this event and he knows I’m the best chef for the job. That’s all this is, and I’ll remain professional this time. I will not allow him to distract me.”
“Good luck with that.” Ashley covered the phone and mumbled something to Brent. “Brent says to let him know that if Seth hurts you again, he’ll beat him up.”
“Tell him thanks for me, but that door is shut, locked, and bolted.” I was so glad that Ashley and Brent Donnelly had worked out their issues. It still surprised me that she’d ever thought Brent and I had been together. He was a good-looking man, but he wasn’t my man. “No need. I can handle it. Tell him thanks, though.”
“What about the dog?”
I rung out the sponge and set it properly on the rack so it would drain and not smell sour later. “What about her?”
“Did she send you into a dog lint meltdown? I mean, did you freak out when she rubbed up against you?”
“What are you talking about? I like animals.”
“I’m not saying that you do or don’t. I’m just saying all that fur is going to drive you insane. Do you remember the calico incident from our junior year?”
Visions of shaving my neighbor’s cat and discovering the skin was the same pattern as the fur was disconcerting enough, but when I was done, the cat looked like a rat and I received two weeks in my room with no friends. She had a point. A point I didn’t want to admit. “I better go. I get to pull an all-nighter to get this unique and sensational menu ready for tomorrow night.”
“Will I see you at the Christmas tree lighting on Saturday?”
We’d vowed that whoever lived within driving distance would meet there each year for the event. Of course, Lexi had moved away, so she wouldn’t be there. But the rest of our high school circle of friends would be: Faith, Ashley, Carol, Joy, Morgan, and me. “About that. How would you and Brent feel about Seth and me meeting with you before the event? He wants to set up an outing over in Christmas Mountain, so I thought you two would be the perfect people to help with that. It could bring in new clients, and the one thing Seth does is pay well.”
“Yes, we’d love that. It’s a double-date.”
“I’ll hang up on you.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll stop teasing. Thanks for the business boost. You get to work and wow Seth with your amazing menu.”
“I better, or I’ll lose my job.” With a sigh, I collapsed onto the fading sage couch my mother had given to me when she’d ordered a new keeping room sofa.
“Would that be so bad?” Ashley asked. “I mean, I know you’d love to start your own catering business. You’d be amazing.”
“Dreaming and planning are two different things. My job here has a steady paycheck.”
“Yes, but letting go of control might be what you need for a change.”
I opened my laptop and started riffling through recipes that I had created and saved over the years. “Lobster thermidor might be good.” Inspiration struck. “Hey, I need to run, but I’ll see you Saturday at four.”
“Have a productive night.”
“I will. I’m digging in and not coming up for air until I have a killer menu planned.”
“K. See you soon,” Ashley said before I hung up and began putting together my idea of an international Christmas.
It was unique, and I could see the decorations unfold around the food, the aroma filling the dining room, the clinking of crystal, and the pops of organic color from the side dishes.
For seven hours I worked and tweaked and perfected my menu. When the sun rose, my neck ached from working so long hunched over the computer and my eyes were bloodshot, but I was energized and ready to take on Seth.
After a short nap, I went to work, where I found Frank waiting for me in the kitchen. “You and I still need to have a conversation, young lady.”
Young lady? I had earned my head chef position certainly, which garnered a little respect. “Frank, I’ve already created a new menu—”
“That’s not what this is about. You need to realize that you have an attitude problem and you’re going to lose your job if you don’t learn to control it. I know you think because you come from some snooty family that your mother is going to make a call and your job is safe, but that won’t work this time.” Frank’s face resembled a radish, and I thought if he didn’t take a breath soon, he’d pass out. “And furthermore, you will find a way to include me in that meeting Saturday. I will not be shut out because you batted your eyelashes and swayed your hips at the man.”
“Excuse me?” I slammed my bag down on my desk and faced Frank. “First off, I don’t know what you’re referring to. My mother has never made a call for me, and I wouldn’t ask her to. I have earned my job here. I’ve had it since before you came to town.”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You cost me my job and my girlfriend, all because your daddy made a call to my boss.”
I was growing impatient. “I assure you, I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”
“You can play innocent, but I know better. Watch yourself,” Frank ordered. “I’m not a server at your parents’ club anymore. I’m your boss. It’s my turn to fire you.” He pressed his palms to my desk and narrowed his gaze.
“You worked at the club?” I asked, still trying to follow his trail of stale breadcrumbs.
“Don’t act dumb. I was fired for a mistake, a spill of a drink on your new white dress. You will be fired for gross incompetence.”
That’s why he hated me? Because he thought I had him fired? “That was over a dozen years ago.”
The narrowed-eyed, pinched-face glower told me time didn’t matter to him. I needed to think fast before he escorted me out of the lodge. “If you fire me now, how will you have a menu by six o’clock this evening?” I didn’t know if it was the reappearance of Seth or the fact I’d reached my limits for disrespect, but for the first time since Frank arrived at the lodge, I was done taking his jabs. “Besides, this grudge you have against me is misplaced. I never told on you for spilling a drink on me.”
“I know it was you, but even if it wasn’t, all you spoiled little rich girls are the same. I’ll make calls and hire a new chef. There’s still time.” He pushed from the desk, leaving behind a palm print.
His phone rang with the song “I Just Called to Say I Loved You.” He held out one finger at me. “This isn’t over. You will apologize to me, or you can start packing up your office.”
My smugness faded faster than a flame caramelized brown sugar. I’d done it this time. I closed my eyes and counted and prayed and had a flash of Anne from Green Gables sucking up her pride to apologize so she could remain in her new home.
“But that’s in ten minutes,” Frank said, his voice laced with plummeting-over-a-mountain kind of terror. “She’s here, but I’m not sure she’s ready.”
It didn’t take a business genius to deduce that he was on the phone with Seth and his ridiculous demands. Maybe it was my turn to channel my inner Seth. I snatched the phone from Frank’s ear before he could react. Careful not to make ear-to-phone contact, I said, “I’m ready with the most amazing menu that will leave your mouth watering and your anticipation stoked.”
“Great, because I’m pulling up now.” The phone went dead before I could even think of a not-so-witty response.
“I’m not feeling an apology at the moment, so I’ll go pack my desk.” I knew I finally had the upper hand. Sick of my job being held over my head on a daily basis, I lifted the box that had been drying by my desk all night and tossed my apron and pens and my nameplate the girls had given me as a gift last Christmas that read Chef Extraordinaire into it.
“Wait. I am a gracious man. I’ll give you one last chance. You secure this client, and you can keep your job.”
“I�
��ve decided I don’t want this job any longer.”
“What?” he screeched.
I batted my lashes and swayed my hips. “There will be some conditions if I’m to agree to continue working for you.”
Chapter 5
Some people called it OCD, but I called it controlling my destiny. If I could keep things in place, clean and organized, then life was easier.
The morning sun filtered through the glass windows. It was a sign. A sign that things were looking up in my world. After negotiating a no-entrance policy for Frank in my kitchen and a promise never to accuse me of using seductive tactics to win over clients again, I was feeling like I’d just won top chef on some reality show.
Male voices carried down the hall and into my space. I flung open the door leading to the dining area. Seth, Frank, and Souffle congregated together at the other side of the long table. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m excited to share the new menu that I know will impress you.”
Seth gave his one distinguished nod approval. “Based on your reputation and previous experience with dining here, I’m sure I will not be disappointed.”
I backed away from a sniffing Souffle. Her silver fur would turn my black pants into mountain sheep. “How is my dog in shining coat this morning?”
Seth cleared his throat. “You know, I had something to do with your rescue, too.”
“What rescue?” Frank asked with a hint of I-knew-there-was-something-between-you tone.
I scrambled for a reason not to be with a hairy dog that would leave its mark everywhere. “Sorry, girl. No dogs in the kitchen. It’s against health regulations.”
Seth unceremoniously handed the leash to Frank. “She might need to go out.”
Frank looked at Seth with wide eyes but then straightened his tie and took the leash. “Margie,” he called out.
She came racing into the room. “Yes, sir.”
“Please take Mr. Mason’s dog outside.”
I offered Margie an apologetic smile.
“You be a good girl.” Seth bent in half and rubbed her ears. This was not the distinguished Seth I knew.
Margie took the leash. “I’ll take good care of her. Promise.” She patted Souffle on the head. “Sweet girl. I have a ball in storage. Let’s go play fetch while your daddy has a meeting.” She took Souffle and bounded down the hall.
Daddy? Seth never wanted to be a father. That was one of the reasons I fell for him so hard. It was safe. How could I ever be with a man who wanted children? Not when I couldn’t give them to him.
“I’ll make sure to escort Seth to your office when we finish here.” I didn’t wait for him to respond. Instead, I did what I had wanted to do for the last year: I shut the door on him.
“I see you don’t need me to rescue you from that inept and rude manager.” Seth removed his jacket and hung it on the rack near my desk. He’d been working out. Not that he was out of shape last time I saw him… Why couldn’t he be fat or bald now? It’s how I envisioned him each time I’d imagined how he looked after a year away from me.
“I’m neither rude nor inept, so please sit down.”
His gaze took in the length of me before he relaxed and took a seat. His legs stretched out for miles. He was tall, fit, and perfect. Perfectly wrong for me. I had learned that lesson the hard way.
I sat across from the table, but he scooted the chair closer with a squeal on the tile floor. My mouth went overcooked-turkey dry. “So, I came up with a theme for the Christmas dinner.” The excitement welled inside me the way it always did when I planned a big meal for an event. I opened the notebook to the first page of my presentation. “It’ll be an international creation of recipes from around the world steeped in traditions. For instance, one of the appetizers will be empanadas mendocinas from Argentina. As you can see, it is rich and elegant and perfect for your business clients who have discerning tastes. And for the main course, we’ll have duck confit from France, and for dessert—”
“No.”
I stopped mid-flip of the page. “Excuse me?”
“No.” That’s all he said, no explanation. Just one word that ended my presentation.
“I assure you that these items are sophisticated and will dazzle your clients.” I forced a calmness to my voice, despite the fact I wanted to slam my fist on the table and call him out for being difficult on purpose just to get a rise out of me.
“I’m sure if my clients were adults.”
My mouth fell open. So much for looking prim, proper, and professional. “Excuse me?”
“This isn’t a corporate event. It’s for children. Lots of children. Orphaned children, and I’ve promised them that this will be a Christmas they will never forget.” He smiled like a kid waiting to sit on Santa’s lap.
“I don’t understand.” Before I could stop myself, I found my hand on my low belly, where the hollow spot remained.
“Didn’t Frank tell you this was an event for children?” He chuckled with an ease I hadn’t witnessed before. Like he’d been on vacation for two weeks instead of taking over hotels and rebranding them for the rich and frivolous crowds.
I blinked at him as if to process a year of epic change in a second. The man sitting next to me didn’t look so stiff, and he didn’t talk about himself as if he were the CEO of the world. He’d mellowed and softened. Why?
“I can see that he did not. One more evidentiary note of his gross incompetence.”
There. That sounded more like the Seth Mason I knew and declared the right man for me before I realized he would never work out a long-distance relationship. Not when he needed a woman on his arm for corporate events and I wasn’t giving up my dream job to serve as a beck-and-call prop for his business advancement.
“Why does he hate you so much anyway? And me, for that matter. I can tell that under his forced smile, he wants to take a swing at me.”
“Don’t take it personally. He hates the rich. Apparently I’m guilty by association and a stain on a white dress.”
“I don’t understand.” Seth drummed his fingers on the table.
“Don’t worry about it. Just know it isn’t you personally. As for this dinner… You say it’s for children? How young?” My mind spun with images of toddlers running through the halls and hopping over furniture. Their sweet little faces a constant reminder that I’d never have my own child to watch open presents on Christmas morning.
“This isn’t going to be a problem, is it?” He tilted his head and bore into me like a carpenter bee into a paper tree. Fast, careless, damaging.
I snapped my face to a blank affect and offered a tight smile. “No, of course not.” With one more quick breath to recover from the memories I’d worked so hard to bury from my early adulthood: pregnancy, miscarriage, surgery, loss of ability to be a real woman for any man.
Shut. Bolted. Pad-locked. Stored in the darkest, furthest memory compartment in my brain.
“Great to hear it.” He stood, leaving me reeling with the idea of a Christmas dinner for children. Soon there would be laughter filling the halls of a lodge I loved because it was mostly for adults.
“I’m sure you’ll create a sensational menu now that you know what I’m looking for. I apologize for the misunderstanding. If you don’t mind, I’m going to go speak to Frank now.”
“Wait. No, let it go.” I tried to sound professional, but I heard the plea in my voice.
Apparently he did too, since his eyes softened and he placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. A hand that sent tingles across my shoulders and down my neck. “Don’t worry. Your job is safe. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your dream.”
He slid his chair under the table and offered his hand to help me stand, as if we were at a gala event instead of my kitchen. “I’m sorry I didn’t understand before about how hard you worked and how you deserve to be a renowned chef. I guess I just have one question for you.”
His words were like a thick mist I had to find my way through. “What’s that?”
&n
bsp; “What are you still doing here? You were going to start your own catering business.” He stood close, as if there was a crowd pushing us together instead of in a large empty room.
“This was my dream job.”
He smiled with that hint of knowing that always drove me crazy, as if he’d read the punchline before I’d told the joke. “What?”
With a quirk of his mouth up one side, he leaned in and whispered, “You said was. That this was your dream job. Maybe you’re open to new dreams now.”
Chapter 6
The sun crested the highest peak, but it didn’t penetrate the cold on the mountain to warm me, so I raced into my cabin and heated a cup of coffee. Four hours I’d worked on a new proposal, but it still lacked something. My heart.
I knew why, but I didn’t want to admit it to myself. Not now, not ever.
My phone buzzed with the third voice mail from Ashley. She meant well, wanting to know how my meeting went with Seth, and I owed her a call back. What would I say though?
With coffee in hand, I eyed the menu items. Traditional family favorites with no real creativity. Boring, lifeless, humdrum.
Apparently retreating from the lodge to my living room didn’t add any inspiration like I’d hoped, so I went to search for a suitable business outfit to wear to Christmas Mountain tomorrow evening that would be comfortable and practical.
I snagged my phone, popped in my earpiece, and returned Ashley’s phone call.
“Oh my God. I’ve been on the edge of my raft waiting for you to call.”
Ash always had to relate everything to her outdoor adventures. She was as passionate about the outdoor experiences as I was about cooking.
“Hi, girl. Sorry. I would’ve called sooner but I was swamped.”
Liar.
“No worries. Just tell me how it went. Did you rekindle an old flame? Slap him across his face and declare war?”
“Funny. None of the above. Not that I didn’t want to slug him or throw him out of my kitchen. Turns out, all this work was for nothing. I’m not organizing and cooking for a corporate event but for orphans.”