Menu for Romance (10 page)

She sighed. No one in the family—least of all control-freak Forbes—would easily understand her sudden need for privacy. “Just because I don’t feel like being touched doesn’t mean I’m angry. I simply need my personal space.”

Forbes folded his arms. “Personal space I can understand. But running off this morning after you told Jenn she could ride to church with you?”

“Forbes, she’s thirty-two years old! She’s not a teenager anymore. And she needs to start taking responsibility for her own life and for getting herself the places she needs to go.”

“This doesn’t sound like you, Mere.”

“Well, it is me. Or at least the me I am when I’m not trying to be the person everyone else thinks I
should
be.”

One of Forbes’s brows arched up. “No one has ever asked you to be something you’re not.”

Meredith matched his crossed-arm stance. “Really? Then why is Mom still mad that I bought a house that needed to be renovated—and that I chose to do it myself?” Moisture burned her eyes, but she blinked it away. “No one in this family really knows me, knows who I am—except Anne—and I’m tired of having to hide behind this veneer of the perfect daughter, the one who never stands up for herself, the one who always defers to someone else’s decision or opinion.” She caught her breath before she hyperventilated. “I’m tired of constantly trying to please everyone else. And I know that sounds selfish, and maybe I am. But that’s what’s ‘up’ with me today.”

Sadness filled her brother’s blue-gray eyes. “I wish you’d said something before you got to the point where this has hurt you so much.” He reached for her, but Meredith stepped back.

The hurt expression that replaced the sadness nearly made Meredith feel guilty. “I’m sorry, but I need space. I need time—time away from being with the family every waking minute—to figure out who I really am, to figure out what it is I truly want out of life.”

Forbes looked as if he wanted to argue, but he restrained himself at great effort. “I understand. And I’ll try to cover for you with the family while you sort things through. But I hope you know that I’m here for you—for the
real
you—no matter what. You can tell me anything.”

“Thanks.” She smiled, keeping her lips pressed tightly together to keep the bottom one from quivering. Not wanting to leave things between them quite so tense, she cast around for something to lighten the mood.

Of course.

“Oh, and I’d like to also thank you for not saying anything to the family about Friday night. I already know that rumors are going to get around at the office—since he picked me up there and several people saw him.” Including Major, which still wrenched Meredith’s heart. “But I’d rather not have the family know just yet that I went out on a date.”

Forbes tried his best to look offended. “I? You think that I would immediately run off and tell everyone that I caught you out on a date with someone we’ve never met before?” Humor danced around his mouth. “I’ll make you a deal. You tell me all about him, and I’ll keep it to myself until you’re ready for the family to know.”

She sighed and shook her head. Change wasn’t going to come easily. She just hoped she was up for the challenge.

“Please tell me my face isn’t really that puffy.”

“No, Chef.”

“Of course not, Chef.”

Somehow, Major didn’t believe Steven and Jana’s denials. There, for all of Bonneterre to see, his pudgy face filled the TV screen. Sure, the antique-reproduction wardrobe behind him looked good. The bright lights hadn’t washed him out as much in the burgundy coat as it would have if he’d worn the white one, but he couldn’t deny that he looked like a chipmunk on an acorn binge.

“I don’t think I can watch the rest of this. Y’all can stay and watch the whole thing, but don’t forget, we have lunch service going on right now.”

Eyes glued to the TV, his sous chef and head server waved him out of his own office.

“You can handle it, boss.” Steven moved from the edge of the desk into Major’s chair without even looking at him.

Indeed, the kitchen and waitstaff had Monday lunch service well under control. Major headed out into the main room and walked from table to table, chatting with regulars and introducing himself to those he’d never met before. News about this year-old project seemed to be spreading around downtown, and people working in nearby buildings had started coming to Vue de Ceil for weekday lunches, since they would probably never get another chance to see the famed event venue. After all, this was where local-boy-turned-movie-star Cliff Ballantine had held his wedding reception last year.

Not only was Major happy his idea had proved a good one, making him look even better to the Guidrys, but he was happy that it had allowed people like Steven and Jana—who’d been his most loyal part-timers—to work for him full-time instead of just when he needed them for events. And the Guidrys had been happy to put Vue de Ceil to use five days a week, instead of having it sitting empty for weeks and even months at a time.

If only he could have this kind of success in the restaurant’s first year. His stomach twisted. That had been a line of questioning he hadn’t expected from Alaine Delacroix last week. Obviously, Mrs. Guidry had filled the reporter in on every aspect of it except one: that Major hadn’t officially accepted the offer yet.

A flicker of light to his left caught his attention. One set of the reflective elevator doors slid open to reveal Anne Hawthorne, along with several other people—including Meredith. Major tugged the hem of his coat to straighten it and resisted the urge to run his fingers through his hair.

In a bright blue sweater, Meredith reminded him of a soothing waterfall. He tried to smile at her when she looked over at him; she smiled back but glanced away again quickly. Avoiding her at church yesterday had been easy, since he always went to the early service and a late Sunday school class; and looking at her now, he couldn’t help but see her standing next to that guy Friday night, dressed to the nines and looking too beautiful for words.

He met them at the perimeter of the room.

“As you can see,” Meredith told the potential clients, “Vue de Ceil definitely has enough capacity to host your event, with room to seat everyone at four- and eight-person tables, if that’s what you want.” She barely spared Major a glance, as if embarrassed to meet his eye again.

Anne stepped forward. “This is Major O’Hara, executive chef for all events held at Boudreaux-Guidry properties.” Anne introduced her clients—a bride who appeared to be hardly out of high school, along with her parents, future mother-in-law, and a couple of grandmothers.

“Oh yes! I was at the New Year’s ball just a few days ago,” the future mother-in-law gushed. “What a wonderful spread of food. If that’s the quality we can look forward to, I definitely recommend this place.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Why wouldn’t Meredith look at him? “It’s my goal to try to serve the best food possible at every event—to make it delicious and memorable.”

“That’s just what we want,” said the mother of the bride. She turned to Anne. “When do you think we can get this booked and set up the menu?”

Anne raised her eyebrows in question to Meredith.

“We can go back down to my office now and look at dates for your event. Once we have that scheduled, Chef O’Hara will develop several sample menus for you to choose from. After that, we’ll set up a tasting.”

This seemed to please everyone, and Meredith herded them back to the elevator.

“Are we still on for two o’clock tomorrow afternoon?” Anne asked, slowly bringing up the rear of the group.

“Yeah.” Major frowned. Something was definitely wrong with Meredith. Was she afraid he was going to ask her about her date Friday? “I’ll bring the cost analyses for the menus we talked about.”

Anne nodded. “All right. I’ll see you then.” She glanced over her shoulder at Meredith, who was engrossed in listening to something one of the grandmothers said. “Yes, we have a lot to talk about.” The elevator whisked her away before Major could ask her to clarify that last statement.

Shaking his head, he went back to the kitchen. Steven and Jana came out of his office laughing, though their amusement died as soon as they saw him.

“Great interview, Chef.” Steven smirked.

Jana elbowed Steven hard enough to send him off balance. “It was a good interview. But why didn’t you tell us you’re starting a restaurant?”

Major groaned. So much for asking Alaine not to include that part in what she aired. “It’s not a done deal. I’m still thinking about it.”

“What’s to think about?” Jana’s eyes widened. “Chef, it’s a great opportunity. You’d be wonderful at running a restaurant. And there are a lot of folks here who’d love to work in a restaurant owned by you.”

Major studied Steven’s face. Was his second in command thinking about the day when he’d be running this kitchen? A chill ran down Major’s spine at the thought. Though Steven was a good chef, his people-management skills left a lot to be desired.

He looked back at Jana. In a restaurant environment, she could make three or four times as much money as she did working this lunch service every day. Everyone in the industry knew that people didn’t spend as much or tip as well at lunch as they did for supper—even when ordering off the same menu. Yes, he would definitely take Jana with him.

“As I said, nothing has been decided yet. Believe me, when the decision is made, y’all will be amongst the first to know.” He stepped aside. “Now, please get back to work so I don’t have to fire you for slacking off.”

Sitting at his desk, Major stared at the blank TV screen, wondering if he really wanted to watch the recording of the program when he got home tonight. Just what had he gotten himself into, agreeing to appear on television? Not just the interview, but every week. Would the potential for publicity really be worth the public humiliation?

“Hey. I’m not late am I?”

Meredith jumped at Major’s voice, her pen striking a blue mark across the page before her. “N–no. I’m just making a list of everything we need to get done today.”

A soft smile hinted at his dimples; Meredith ignored her squirmy stomach—just as she tried to ignore the fact that the dark green shirt he wore made his eyes a vivid violet-blue.

“So, what’s on the agenda?”

What? Oh, right. Meeting. “Hearts to HEARTS: menu and final food budget, staffing requirements, space planning...” She let her voice drift when her mother appeared in the doorway.

“Oh good, Major, you’re here already. Would you both step into my office?”

“Of course.” Meredith glanced at Major, who looked as if he shared her confusion. She took her pen and legal pad with her. At the threshold to her mother’s elaborate office, Meredith hesitated, and Major bumped into her.

One of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen sat in front of her mother’s desk. Black hair lay tumbled in voluptuous curls around the woman’s shoulders—the kind of curls Meredith had prayed for every time she’d subjected her own poor fine, limp hair to perms back in her teens.

Pushing envy aside, she slapped a smile on, armed herself with professional confidence, and strode into the office. The woman stood and extended her right hand.

“Alaine Delacroix,” Mom said, beginning the introduction, “this is Meredith Guidry, our executive director of events and facilities.”

“It’s very nice to meet you.” The name clicked in Meredith’s memory. “Alaine Delacroix—from Channel Six?”

Perfect, full lips parted to reveal dazzling white teeth. “Yes. It’s nice to meet you, too. I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you—about how you’re practically a miracle worker when it comes to planning these social events everyone wants to attend.”

Dreaded heat tingled in Meredith’s cheeks. She hated that compliments still made her blush at her age.

Alaine looked over Meredith’s shoulder, and her nearly black eyes sparkled like diamond-studded onyx. “Hello, Chef.”

Meredith’s heart crashed into an iceberg and succumbed to hypothermia. Stepping aside, she avoided looking at Major, not wanting to see the drool hanging from his mouth at the reporter’s overly warm greeting. She followed her mother to the table and sat.

Ever the gentleman, Major waited to sit until all three ladies had taken their places.

“Alaine is here”—Mom looked from Major to Meredith—“because she has come up with an idea that I’m really excited about. Alaine, why don’t you explain it?”

“I’d be happy to, Mrs. Guidry.”

“Oh, please, it’s Mairee.”

Alaine’s smile beamed at Mom. Meredith thought she might be ill. She could handle when her mom turned on the fake charm for gold key clients. But she wasn’t sure she could stomach these two women fawning over each other.

“The idea actually came to me because of meeting you, Chef O’Hara.” The dark eyes twinkled at Major again. “I thought it would be a good idea to create a news special on all of the planning that goes into the Hearts to HEARTS banquet. Kind of like the shows they do on the food channel—but not just about the food. About everything that goes into the event.”

“That’s where you come in, Meredith.” Mom leaned forward, more excited than she’d been when Meredith landed the contract for Senator Kyler’s inauguration ball. “Alaine is going to set up a time to talk to you so you can explain everything you’ve already done. And she’s brought her cameraman with her today so that they can observe your planning meeting.”

Meredith balled her hands together in her lap and tried to maintain a neutral expression. “I’ll do whatever I can to help.” A reporter following her around, scrutinizing every decision she made? Great. Just great.

“Now, Major, the other part involves you,” Mom continued. “Alaine is to be given access to the kitchen during the week before the event so she can get footage of y’all making everything, so you’ll need to let her know that schedule. Oh, and you two still need to work out the schedule for the weekly cooking segment on her program.”

Meredith swallowed hard, gritting her teeth against the desire to ask why she’d ever been made an executive director if Mom and Dad were going to continue making these kinds of decisions without consulting her. Meredith was beginning to believe Anne hadn’t been completely honest about why she’d decided to leave B-G and start her own business.

“Major, if you can come back when you and Meredith finish your meeting, we’ll discuss the details.” Mom placed her palms flat on the tabletop and stood. “I know you have a lot of work to do, so I’ll let you get to it. Alaine, Major, if you’ll go ahead, I need a few words with Meredith.”

Partially out of her chair, Meredith sank back into it, pulse thudding. Had she not done a good enough job hiding her reactions to her mother’s pronouncements?

Mom made sure the door closed firmly behind Alaine and Major before rejoining Meredith at the table. “I have a couple of questions now that I’ve had time to dig into your report.” She flipped open her thick planner.

Meredith cringed. If Mom took the time to write everything down, this would be no quick chat.

“First, you sort of glazed over this in our meeting earlier, but the final financial report ... I noticed the expenditure was nearly twenty percent below last year’s. What happened?”

Any other employer would have been praising Meredith for saving the company money, not questioning her as if she’d done something wrong. “I spent a lot more time this year negotiating rates and working out trade agreements.”

“No cutting corners anywhere? Nothing that takes advantage of anyone?”

Disbelief and shock pulled at Meredith’s bottom jaw, and she stared at her mother. “I would never compromise my integrity—nor B-G’s—like that.”

“Calm down. I’m not saying you did. I was just confused by how the final number could have been that much lower.” Mom looked back down at her list, asked about some of the complaints detailed in the report: valet parking attendants too slow; tables bussed too fast; band too loud; lights too dim—“Pretty much the same complaints as at every event, so just keep working on that.”

Same complaints ... probably by the same people. Meredith scrawled something illegible on her notepad as if taking it seriously.

Mom studied her notes for a moment then closed the planner. “It’s come to my attention that you’ve been keeping something from me.”

Ward. Of course. The receptionists had no doubt blabbed about his coming here to pick her up. She hated the idea that her personal life was fodder for watercooler gossip around the office. But she also knew her mother’s way of getting information out of people. “What are you talking about?”

“Jenn told me you’ve hired a contractor for your house.”

Defensive words gathered in a ball in the back of Meredith’s throat. “What? Oh, yeah—well, I haven’t officially hired him. I ran into him at the hardware store last Monday and asked for a bid.”

“I can’t tell you what a relief that is to me.” Mom smiled—the first real smile she’d shown since Meredith entered the room. “I probably haven’t told you, but the only reason I counseled you against buying that house is because I thought you would be stubborn and insist on doing everything yourself. I can’t wait to see it when it’s finished.”

Relief tripped up Meredith’s thoughts. “Thanks, Mom.”

“You’re welcome. Now, best not keep Alaine and Major waiting any longer.”