A Catered Romance (2 page)

Lifting her chin, she willed starch into her spine. “You’re early,” she said, glancing at the clock. “The meeting isn’t for another half hour. My partner’s not here yet.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Hello to you too. That’s not much of a greeting after twelve years.”

She placed a hand on her hip. “As I recall, our last meeting was less than cordial.”

His jaw tightened. “People change, Mary Beth.”

“Do they?”

“Believe it.” The determined set of his rugged features stopped any further argument. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” She tugged on her braid, trying to gain control of her emotions. For the sake of her company, she wouldn’t let her feelings interfere. “We have a business deal to negotiate. Nothing more.”

Tom’s harsh features softened. He scanned her face, making her wonder if her tension showed. “You’re more beautiful than I remember.”

Awareness and a flash of anger shot through her. She dug her nails into her palms. “Saving my company is my primary concern.”

“Mine too,” he said. “A businessman expects a return on his investment.” He strode into the kitchen with the confidence born of inherited wealth and family standing.

Squaring her shoulders, Mary Beth fought the onslaught of old hurts. She’d grown up in the years since he’d humiliated her. Her family might not have his social connections, but her poverty-stricken upbringing had made her strong. Strong enough to fight for her professional life and keep her pride—and her heart—intact.

“Coffee smells good. May I have a cup?” Tom straddled one of the high stools surrounding the white-tiled center counter.

Glad to do something to distract her from past memories and Tom’s disturbing presence, she grabbed a heavy white mug from the cabinet and poured a steaming cup of vanilla almond coffee. “Just cream, right?”

“You remembered,” he said.

“A lucky guess.” She handed him the mug. His fingers grazed hers as he took it, sending heat racing up her arm.

She escaped to the opposite side of the kitchen and leaned against the counter edge. The citrus scent of his cologne lingered in her nostrils, stirring up the unwanted memory of their kiss at the formal. But the sweet kiss that had promised love and dreams fulfilled had been tainted with betrayal.

A new dread suddenly filled her. “I won’t take charity, Tom. If this is about payback, there will be no deal.”

She wanted to wince at her overly dramatic words. Seeing Tom again peeled away the years, bringing out the teenager in her. She had to get a grip.

He stared at her over the rim of his mug, then banged the cup on the counter. Coffee spilled over the sides onto the clean white tile.

“I’m a lawyer and a businessman. I don’t gamble with my firm’s money.” The intensity in his sapphire eyes held her. “I’ve checked your company out,” he continued. “Talked to people. You have the potential to be big, but you’re over-extended. That’s where Sackett comes in. We’ll help you get on your feet. You have to look successful to be successful.”

Mary Beth angled her chin, still not ready to believe him. “Sackett Industries doesn’t invest in small businesses like ours.”

He shrugged and swallowed a sip of coffee. “Sackett owns a diverse portfolio of companies. Catering will mesh well with our other holdings. We do a lot of corporate entertaining. We could use an in-house caterer.”

She studied him to assess the truth of his words. The confident set of his jaw spoke of a strength and maturity eighteen-year-old Tom had lacked. Maybe he’d changed after all.

Stop it
her brain shouted. Dreams of Tom had only caused her pain in the past. She wouldn’t go down that path again.

She pulled another mug from the cabinet and grabbed the coffeepot to pour some coffee for herself. Hot liquid splashed on her hand, scalding her. She jumped.

“Are you okay?” The stool scraped the floor as Tom stood up and started toward her.

“I’m fine,” she rasped, waving him away. She didn’t want him close to her, not while she felt so vulnerable…and angry. Angry at him and at the circumstances that had brought him into her life again. She yanked on the faucet and held her hand under cold water.

“This kitchen is great,” he said. “I’m planning to renovate mine. Maybe you could come over sometime and give me your professional opinion.”

“I don’t think so.” She wiped her hands on a towel and faced him. “If we work out a deal—and I’m not at all sure about that—I will not be at your beck and call to help decorate your house, or perform any other duties.”

“You always did have too much pride for your own good,” he said quietly.

She met his gaze and held it, refusing to look away despite the small seed of awareness growing in her. “Pride got me through school and it will get me through this. I won’t be dependent on you, or anyone, for long.”

His lips quirked in a crooked grin. “A little bit of overreaction, Mary Beth?”

She tugged on her braid. The man had a way of making her lose her cool.

He studied her. “You always tugged on your braid when you were nervous. Do I make you nervous?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

Before he had a chance to respond, Gail bounded into the room, her blonde curls dancing around her delicate face. She looked from Tom to Mary Beth. “Hi. I’m not late, am I?”

“You’re not late. He’s early.” Mary Beth nodded toward Tom.

“Tom Sackett,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Gail O’Connell. I’m the ‘and Company’ in Kendrick and Company Caterers and Party Planners.”

He laughed. “Glad to meet you.” His quick smile made Gail dimple with pleasure.

Resentment knifed through Mary Beth. Tom could charm the apples out of a fresh-baked pie.

“How’s Joey?” Mary Beth blurted.

“His fever broke now that the antibiotics have kicked in.” Gail pulled her hand from Tom’s. “Joey is my five-year-old,” she explained. “My husband is out of town and I had trouble finding a sitter. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“No problem. My financial officer’s not here yet.” Tom settled back on the stool. “I got here early to check out the place and talk over old times with Mary Beth.”

Mary Beth narrowed her eyes.
Old times
? Hardly times she’d want to reminisce about. The future, her company’s future, was all that mattered now.

Gail threw her a knowing look. She ignored it. “We should get ready for the meeting.” Mary Beth opened one of the cabinets and pulled out a teak serving tray and several more mugs.

“Coffee smells good,” Gail said. “I’ll get the petit fours.”

Gail took the plate of dainty cakes from the refrigerator and set them on the counter in front of Tom. “I’m the pastry chef. Mary Beth couldn’t bake her way out of a burning oven, but the girl sure can cook.”

“Mary Beth always did everything well,” Tom said. “Her intelligence scared the hell out of me in school. So did her beauty.” His gaze, hot as a blue flame, locked with Mary Beth’s.

Uncomfortable under his scrutiny, she looked away. “There will be four of us at the meeting, right?” Trying to get her mind off Tom and the heat that swirled between them, she set mugs and a carafe on the tray. Keeping busy would also distract her from the overwhelming sadness and frustration that the business she had struggled to conceive and build might owe its survival to the man who’d mortally wounded her young heart.

She groaned inwardly. She was thinking like an over-dramatic teen again. Maybe Tom hadn’t mortally wounded her, but his betrayal had kept her from completely trusting any man despite the two serious relationships she’d had since him. No, she had to be honest—her father’s actions had peeled away her trust. Tom had merely pulverized what was left.

“How long have you two been partners?” Tom asked in a cool voice. Mary Beth glanced at him. The rigid set of his chiseled features gave no hint of the longing that had softened them a minute ago.

She let out her breath, convinced tension had her imagination working overtime. Tom didn’t care for her, had never cared for her.

She poured coffee into the carafe, concentrating on the steady stream of hot liquid and trying to ignore the small drips of hurt that seemed to burn her heart.

“To answer your question,” Gail said, “as my usually vocal partner seems to have lost her voice, we’ve been friends since college and attended the Culinary Institute together. Mary Beth opened the business two years ago and I bought in six months later.” She pushed the plate of pastries toward Tom. “Here, try one of these.”

Tom popped a small cake into his mouth. The surprised pleasure on his face made the women exchange grins.

“Wow!” He licked his lips.

His tongue gliding over his full lips made Mary Beth’s knees wobble like half-set gelatin. She gripped the counter for support and stared at Tom’s mouth. What would it be like to kiss him again?

Their eyes met. Awareness sizzled and crackled between them, charging the atmosphere liked downed power lines after a storm.

“Cakes are good, huh?” Gail said.

Mary Beth blinked, breaking the connection with Tom.

Seeming oblivious to the charged interplay between Tom and Mary Beth, Gail rearranged the cakes on the plate and continued talking. “My husband, Pete, gained ten pounds the first couple of months after I bought into the business. He was our official taster. He gave up the job and joined the gym.”

Bless Gail for rambling
. Trying to get control over her emotions, Mary Beth fingered the gold chain at her neck, her last gift from her father, and her reminder to always guard her heart.

“Can I apply for the position of official taster?” Tom’s words teased, but his voice was husky and his gaze lingered on Mary Beth.

“We wouldn’t want you to ruin your manly physique,” Gail said.

Mary Beth’s gaze seemed to have a will of its own, attaching itself to Tom’s broad shoulders. The designer cut of his expensive suit couldn’t disguise the width of his chest or the barely leashed power of his muscles under the finely woven wool jacket and brushed cotton shirt. She swallowed as if she could somehow dilute the attraction she felt for him.

<><><>

“Well, that’s done.” Mary Beth put her feet on the oak coffee table in the reception area. With the pleated shades drawn, the only light came from the small lamp on the side table. The room reflected her mood, somber and shadowed. “I feel like I’ve signed away my firstborn.”

Gail sighed. “You’re the one who gave birth to this baby. Even though I’m just the foster mother, I feel bad.”

“When you bought in, you became an equal partner,” Mary Beth said. “You love this business as much as I do.”

“And it’s just as heart-wrenching to lose it.” Gail tucked a blonde curl behind her ear.

Mary Beth leaned her head back on the cushioned chair and closed her eyes. “At least we still own a small portion and we’ve got creative license.”

“Sackett Industries was surprisingly fair,” Gail said.

“They know better than to change a winning recipe.” Mary Beth sat up and looked at Gail, sitting opposite her. “A year ago we were the new darlings on the block, with more business than we could handle, and now we don’t even have controlling interest in our own company. How did we let this happen?”

“Maybe we got too sure of ourselves,” Gail said. “We ignored those ‘flash and dash’ caterers when they breezed in with their glitzy Philadelphia style and edge.”

“Their food is terrible,” Mary Beth said. “Remember the roast beef at the Larson wedding? Ugh. And they use canned mushrooms. Here, so close to where they grow the best mushrooms in the country. But people don’t seem to notice.”

“Because they’re fooled by the pretty wrappings. Some people would rave over cardboard if it were wrapped fancy. Now with Sackett’s money and influence, we can give them glitter too. Only we have substance behind our packaging.”

“Sackett,” Mary Beth said in a low voice. Tom. Appealing. Dangerous. Her boss.

She tightened her jaw. “This is only a temporary situation. As soon as we can, we’ll buy back our business. I will not be dependent on any man, especially Tom Sackett.”

Gail put up a hand. “Don’t bite off my head. Since I’ve known you, you’ve had this thing about making your own way. You’ve scared off a lot of good men with your stubborn self-reliance. Maybe you should loosen up a little.”

“Never. Besides, I wouldn’t want a man I could intimidate.”

Gail’s mouth quirked into a grin. “Maybe you’ve met your match.”

“What do you mean?”

“Tom. He impressed me in the meeting. He’s strong, forceful, a take-charge kind of guy. And he’s fair. I like him.”

Mary Beth narrowed her eyes at Gail. “I told you what he did to me. He’s not the paragon of virtue you think.”

“He was eighteen. People grow up.”

“What would Pete say if he knew how outrageously you flirted with Tom?”