Bachelor's Special (13 page)

“Mom, nobody does Chinese takeout like you.” Jared rubbed his stomach. Mel smiled at him, and he took her hand. Mel had never looked happier. Her friend had fallen. Hard.

“You got that right. And the fortune cookies were crisp, with just the right amount of snap.” Chet’s laughter floated on the breeze, though it sounded more forced than normal.

“And to think I get to eat like this every night.” Patrick winked at Jill. She loved their constant teasing, most of it directed at Lorna, who took it in stride.

Lorna dismissed their jokes with a flip of her wrist and turned toward Jill. “Collette tells me she’ll be calling you this week for your help with a small catering function at the university.”

“Oh. That’s wonderful. She’d mentioned it, but we haven’t cemented the details.” She hadn’t expected anything with Collette to happen so soon. Jill fingered the pearl necklace at her throat and glanced at Chet. He looked away, and some of the joy vanished from the moment.

“It’s mostly a brainstorming session with the chairmen’s wives and some others. We’re working on an awards ceremony for the next calendar year.”

“You’ll be there, too?” Part of Jill felt comforted by the news, and another part uncertain.

“Oh yes. You can’t miss one of Collette’s luncheons or you’ll—”

“Never be invited again,” Patrick finished.

“Stop it, Pat.” Lorna rolled her eyes.

“Jill, you didn’t tell me you already had a catering job.” Mel scooted forward, her face bright with excitement.

“We haven’t talked much since I met Collette. She was at one of the dinner parties. She took my card and said she’d be in touch. I just didn’t think it would be so soon.” Jill kept her enthusiasm subdued. She didn’t want to start turning cartwheels, but she couldn’t hold back her wide smile.

Yes, today was going quite well. She hadn’t embarrassed herself in front of Chet’s family, and now the promise of a catering job. Too bad Chet’s quiet mood shrouded her in dread. He’d gone from talking with her to completely tuning her out. Tension drifted in the air around him, and the only explanation was the way his family accepted her—especially his mother.

“How exciting for you. From what I hear about your abilities, I don’t think you’ll have any shortage of work.” Lorna’s genuine smile flitted from her to Mel.

“Jill’s wanted this for so long.” Mel turned from Lorna to Jill. “See, I told you things would start going your way. One of your dreams is coming true, only two remain.” Mel gave a conspiratorial giggle, her ring-drenched fingers hiding her mouth.

Panic rose in Jill’s throat at the questioning looks of the others. She loved Mel, but her mouth could sure cause problems. After all of these years, Mel should’ve learned when to stay quiet.

Jill waited for the quiet to go away. Birds seemed to stop their constant background chatter as if waiting for Jill to comment. Or for Mel to reveal more.

Not one to disappoint nature, Mel continued in her cheery voice, now sounding like she spoke through a bullhorn. “Jill not only likes to dress the fifties look, but she wants to live it.”

Jill looked skyward, beckoning the seagulls overhead to dive-bomb Mel so the only thing coming out of her mouth would be screams of panic.

“How’s that?” Chet smiled when he asked the question, but his lips appeared taut.

Shut up, Mel.
Jill glared at her best friend, who’d just moved to her “former friend” list. Again.

Mel ate up the attention. Her smile spread and she winked at Jill, then dropped the biggest nuclear bomb of all time. “Well, she wants it all. To land a hubby, make babies,
and
own a successful business.”

The coiled spring in Jill’s stomach released, sending shockwaves through her whole body. Mel made it sound like Jill was on the prowl and desperate to land a man, get married, and make babies. Lots of babies.

Truth be told, she wanted nothing more, but she didn’t want to share it with the world. Not like that. And especially with Chet and his family. Plus, the way Mel made it sound…

If she could’ve pulled the sombrero umbrella from the table and bopped Mel over the head with it, she would have.

Jill glanced around. Lorna beamed, Jared smirked, and Patrick grinned and shook his head at his wife. When Jill met Chet’s stare, she wished the sun would burn her into a charcoal briquette. No way did she want Chet to feel like she’d targeted him, although from the way he looked at her, she had no doubt that thought was front runner in his mind.

“Melody, you certainly have a cute turn of phrase.” Lorna chuckled. Mel blushed.

“That she does.” Jill pulled the sunglasses on top of her head over her eyes and closed her lids. If only a wave would wash over the rails of the deck and carry her out to sea—or in this case Lake Michigan.

“That’s why I like her so much, she’s never boring,” Jared said.

Jill peered at Chet from behind the safety of her sunglasses. He stared directly at her, face pinched, a small frown line between his eyebrows.

“Living in a house full of boys has almost been my undoing. I love all this girl talk.” Lorna turned toward her husband and sons. “Maybe you men should head below and find something to do. Give us girls a chance to chat.”

Jared didn’t hesitate and stood as if he’d been hoping for an escape. His father followed. They moved across the deck, not bothering to wait for Chet, who sat stone silent in his seat.

As if realizing all female eyes were on him, he rose, never looking away from Jill. Tension, embarrassment, and dread made a meal of her spine, and the rocking of the boat didn’t help matters, either, chewing up the remainder of her nerves. What if Mel’s big mouth made Chet decide to end their deal—which in essence would fizzle out the connections he could provide and the promise of a loan? He might not have a problem with her moving out after today. Permanently.

“Enjoy your chat, ladies.” He turned toward his mother. “Don’t get any ideas.”

Lorna followed his back until he was out of sight below deck, then turned toward Mel and Jill with a bright smile. “Ladies, let’s get to know each other. I mean really get to know each other.”

Jill glanced at the clock, then cleared the balls from the billiard table. She’d lost interest in her solo game the moment Mel’s number appeared on her cell. After three days of letting Mel sweat it out—her leaving heartfelt messages and apologies—Jill was ready to talk. She’d accepted Mel’s out of control mouth and all her quirks long ago. They’d never been able to stay mad at each other long.

Now, fifteen minutes later, they were chatting like they’d never been apart and all had been forgiven.

“Listen, Mel, I need to start dinner. Chet is bringing home two clients and I want everything perfect.”

“And then afterward you’ll try to talk to him again?”

“Definitely. I haven’t been able to corner him alone for more than sixty seconds since Sunday. And the ride home from the boat…I don’t even want to go there.”

“What happened?”

“Let’s just say he had the urge to listen to music. Loud music. But tonight he better be ready because I’m…” Jill choked back a sob. She didn’t want the newfound friendship between her and Chet ruined over this misunderstanding.

“I’m so sorry, Jill. I was just having fun and, as usual, didn’t think before I opened my mouth. Give him some time. If he’s anything like his brother, he’ll see reason on his own.” The sincerity in Mel’s apology softened Jill’s mood toward her even more.

“We’re going to talk tonight as soon as his guests leave. He’s not getting out of the room until this is resolved.”

“Yowza. That’s my girl.”

Jill hung up to the soft sound of Mel’s chuckle. She wished she could join in, but humor had been absent ever since that day on the boat.

Truth be known, she was afraid she couldn’t get Chet to listen. He seemed beyond determined to avoid her. Or was she being too sensitive? Maybe work really was keeping him busy.

Jill turned out the lights as she left the room. She jumped when her phone beeped, announcing a text from Chet as she walked up the steps from the basement.

Cancel dinner. Eating out. Will be late.

An emptiness settled inside her chest. Jill sank down on the top step, wiping a solitary tear from her cheek. She missed Chet. Missed their laughter, teasing, and conversation. Hell, she missed having dinner with him. They hadn’t eaten together since Mel’s taste for the limelight loosened her lips. The last few evenings he’d claimed an overload of work and had eaten in his office.

Jill hated that Mel’s words had frightened Chet away. After all their conversations, how could he think she wanted anything more from him than friendship? Sure their attraction simmered—
okay, boiled
—but they were wrong for each other. She knew it and so did he. She only wanted to be friends.

Didn’t she?
Yes.

Why couldn’t he see that?

Chapter Fifteen

Alone in the more than adequate kitchen attached to the conference room Collette had rented for the ladies luncheon, Jill threw herself into her work. With steady hands, she placed dollops of sour cream and chives atop the bite-sized appetizers lined up on the silver platter.

Almost two weeks had passed since she’d met Chet’s family, and it’d been over a week since she’d made up with Mel, but things between her and Chet hadn’t changed.

Jill was grateful to have the catering event to keep her busy. The decorator, now empty of the sour cream mixture, hit the table with a clunk. She picked up the rectangular tray and carried it through the swinging kitchen doors to the large round table set up in the middle of the circular room.

Chet had stopped taking his clients out for dinner, but he still avoided being alone with her. Their usual evening walks through the gardens to discuss the dinner parties had turned into either a rushed email or a quick businesslike chat as Chet sailed through the door on his way to work.

Jill hadn’t given up trying to get through to him. She’d just have to wait him out until he wanted to talk.

The turn in their relationship ate her up inside. She marked off the days left of their agreement on the purse-sized kitten calendar she carried. Each check added another brick to her heart.

After Mel dropped her bombshell, Chet changed. Visibly, mentally, and several other words ending in -ly. The man acted like a target spanned his back and she was the arrow.

She’d never seen someone so hung up on his fears. She understood he didn’t believe in marriage, relationships, and definitely not babies. Just because that’s what she wanted, it didn’t mean he was the only man on earth who could deliver. Wherever he got that misconception, she had no clue. But there was no other explanation regarding the way he acted toward her.

Jeez
. She wasn’t asking him to offer any of these.

She’d been the one torn up about their dalliance in the pool, not him. If she were after him to snag a “baby maker,” then she would’ve tried for a repeat. Her head spun at the idea.

Given Gina, she couldn’t blame him for being leery. But damn it, not of her.

Men…they were so…so exasperating!

The ladies luncheon would begin in less than twenty minutes and she was ahead of schedule. How she’d managed to have everything ready before noon was beyond her.

She rearranged several platters, positioning them according to size and food choice. Her nerves were stretched taut. Although she’d had two cups of peppermint tea this morning, she couldn’t stop the butterflies. If this luncheon went smoothly, word would spread, and she’d hopefully secure several other catering jobs.

Collette entered the room with a smiling Lorna at her side. For a brief moment a surge of uncertainty filled Jill. She and Lorna had gotten along so well on the boat, but they hadn’t spoken since. Who knew what Chet might have said?

But when Lorna grabbed Jill’s hand and gave it a small squeeze, Jill relaxed. “This looks lovely, Jill.”

Collette’s flowing sea-green dress matched her eyes and gave her tanned complexion a healthy glow. “More than lovely, it’s gorgeous. You’ve done a remarkable job on a shoestring budget.”

Shoestring was a tad exaggerated. The budget was so generous, Jill managed to order fresh flowers and an ice sculpture centerpiece.

Collette’s delicate features expressed her pleasure as she sashayed around the table, inspecting the appetizers they’d agreed upon. Bite-size snacks in every shape and size. Platters of cheese, breads, meats, fruits, and vegetables were arranged alongside tiny silver tongs, spoons, dips, sauces, and other assorted condiments. As a bonus, something they hadn’t discussed, Jill set up a soup station with three varieties. Of course, her prized squash soup sat front and center.

When Collette came to the centerpiece, she tilted her head and smiled. “Jill, you’re unbelievable.”

“Thank you, Collette.” It wasn’t like Jill carved the sculpture herself, but warmth covered her face. “And thank you for taking my suggestion about setting this up buffet style.”

“I had my doubts, but you’re the expert.”

“It’ll give everyone a chance to mingle with more than just the people at their table.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Lorna said.

When Collette first contacted her about the luncheon, she’d mentioned a small affair. Jill assumed twenty to twenty-five women in hats, gloves, and heels. After their first meeting, she’d learned the tiny affair consisted of one hundred ladies, give or take two or three. Funny how tiny could mean different things to different people.

“Perfect.” Collette flicked the bracelet around her wrist, revealing a small watch hidden in the band. “Almost show time, Lorna. Let’s greet the ladies in the reception hall.” They headed for the doors leading to the foyer. Before Collette opened them she turned. “Thanks again, Jill. I’m more than pleased.”

Good, at least someone still liked her. And that someone would lead to references for future work. The other someone, Chet, hovered in her mind constantly. She missed her easygoing friendship with him. She’d hoped to walk away from their time together with…

With what? A friend?

She hated the fact she was lying. To herself no less.

Admit it, Jill. You held out hope that maybe a no-name chef from a broken home stood a chance with a smart, talented man who could make you laugh and ignite your heart.

At least one good thing came of their silent feud. Not seeing, talking, or being near him was the recipe she needed to stop harboring thoughts about jumping his bones every time she looked at him. And it also helped squash her daydreams about their friendship turning into something more. Something she knew it couldn’t—shouldn’t.

Bursts of laughter filtered through the closed door of the entrance hall. Jill did one last run-through of the food table. Her stomach knotted from all the smells and the room fogged. She grabbed the table’s edge and closed her eyes until her equilibrium corrected.

Yeah, if she were getting over her unrealistic feelings for Chet, someone forgot to tell her. Her heart seemed as heavy as ever. The whole ordeal stressed her out and she’d not only lost sleep, but even managed to get sick when she thought about it too much.

She turned to find her arch-nemesis eyeballing her with a thin-lipped half smile. The skin along Jill’s nape grew clammy.

“I’m not sure I want to eat anything made by a chef that can’t stand the sight of her own efforts.”

Barracuda.

Gina’s laughter raised the hair on Jill’s arms. She didn’t know Gina would be here. Another
perfect
moment to add to the ever-growing list from the last fourteen days. Not that she’d been counting.

Jill sucked in a deep breath, then delivered what she hoped was a professional smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not contagious. Just a bit of stress and lack of sleep.”

“I see you’re planning ahead and trying to find other jobs with your…skills.”

Gina’s gaze slithered over Jill with barely feigned tolerance. “Collette is already recommending you to everyone in the entry. I’m glad you’re not expecting Chet and me to ask you to stay on as chef.”

“I’d decline.” Jill brushed by Gina. She had no desire to spar with this crazy woman who lived in fantasyland. If she believed she and Chet had a future, let Chet deal with it.

The doors to the kitchen loomed across the room the length of a discount-store parking lot. Jill stiffened her shoulders as she made the trek. Gina’s heels clicked in a steady rhythm behind her. Damn the woman.

She pushed the double doors open and let them slide out of her hand, hoping they’d hit Gina in the head and knock her out. Then she wouldn’t have to deal with her. She made her way to the sink, but Gina’s fingers dug into her shoulder.

“What’s the hurry, Jill?”

The way her name rolled off Barracuda’s tongue sent shivers down Jill’s spine. If it were possible to imbue deranged hate with a smidgeon of evilness into a voice, Gina had perfected it.

“Is there something you need, Bara…Gina? I’m busy.”

“I forgot. Some people have to actually work for a living.” Gina’s prickly laughter sent Jill’s light breakfast of peppermint tea and toast churning in her stomach.

“Since I’m a one-woman show, if there isn’t something I can help you with related to today’s luncheon, please excuse me.”

Gina stepped closer. The pungent aroma of her perfume filled Jill’s lungs.
Overkill
seemed a likely name for the scent.

Gina glared at her through narrowed eyes.

“Are you sure it’s stress? You didn’t go and do something stupid, now, did you?” Her eyebrows became one long, finely drawn line.

“Yeah, I agreed to a blind date.”

“What?”

“Never mind, Gina. Excuse me, I’m working.”

On her way toward the sink, her stomach flinched and her breakfast began to make its way up her throat. Panic swept through her as she looked for the small door that led to the closet-sized bathroom. She darted across the kitchen, dodging workstations, sinks, and fryers.

She thrust the door open, not caring that Gina followed. Jill’s ponytail hung down her shoulder as she bent over the toilet and lost it. She stood there, eyes squeezed shut, cold sweat dotting the skin of her forehead.

Gina’s breathing behind her was labored, and Jill couldn’t hide her surprise when a small hand towel was thrust into her face.

“Thanks.” Wow, Barracuda had a soft side. Jill accepted the towel and brushed it over her brow.

“You did do something stupid.”

A short-lived soft side.

“What are you talking about?” She didn’t want to deal with this woman. Though she’d managed to empty her stomach in one try, she didn’t want to repeat her bend and tuck over the toilet.

“You’re really not that naive are you? You’re pregnant.”

Jill lost her balance and stumbled back in the small space, hitting the wall with her rear. Hands, steady minutes before, shook as she wiped the towel across her forehead a second time, breaking Gina’s gaze.

“You’re nuts. I told you, nerves. I’ve always…always had a bit…of a delicate stomach.” She lowered the towel and delivered her stern face. Or at least that’s how it felt. She probably looked more like a scared rabbit.

“Think about it.” Gina rolled her eyes. “Your clammy, pasty skin is beyond pale. Smells are making you ill. From the look of things, just the thought of food makes you sick.”

Yeah, and you make me sick. Don’t forget that one.

Instead she met the other woman’s glare. “You’ve quite the imagination, Gina.” This woman had an uncanny knack of making her foul mood worse.

Barracuda’s lips twisted at one end and her brow creased. “I know the signs. I already know you were stupid enough to sleep with Chet. I bet your intent the whole time was to get knocked up. Am I right?”

She didn’t wait for a response but continued on in a voice that sounded like she’d consumed one too many cocktails before she’d arrived. “And now you’re going to be tied to him for life, after his money and—”

“Enough!” Jill brushed her damp palm across her forehead. Coolness relieved the scorching heat of her flesh. How could she be pale when her skin felt like fire? “I’m not pregnant. I’m not trying to ‘steal’ your man, or any man.”

“You really are dense.”

“And you’re really nuts.”

“Does Chet know?”

“There’s nothing to know.”

“Hmmm. He’ll never forgive you for tricking him. Your plan to trap him won’t work.”

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

“How… Never mind. We’ll see how you feel after Chet finds out.” Gina smiled through compressed lips.

“There is nothing for Chet to find out. I’m. Not. Pregnant.” Must be money causes insanity. Mel, Chet, and now Gina.

“Then you have nothing to worry about.” Gina turned on spiked heels and crossed the marble floor of the kitchen to join the party in the other room. Laughter and happy conversation flowed through the doors when Gina pushed them open, then muted to a soft muffle when the barrier flapped shut.

Jill cupped her hands underneath the faucet, the velvet water calming her jagged nerves. Gina dared to speak aloud what Jill only feared. Pregnant. The word alone sent her into a spin. They hadn’t used protection. And though she did have an active stomach, it had been more audible lately. While almost convinced all the whirlwind playing out in her life the last several months caused her queasiness, she couldn’t ignore the possibility of being pregnant. With her boss’s—Chet’s—baby.

Her mind ticked through her mental calendar. She’d have to double check for sure, but if she were late, it would only be by a few days, a week tops.

She studied her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes seemed to circle and swallow her whole face. Her lower lip trembled. Due to her matchmaker friend, her professional life had finally turned around for the better—but her personal life lay on shifting sand…because she’d gone over the line with her boss. And now
this
.

The tension between her and Chet pounded double time. He’d hardly spoken more than a handful of sentences to her in the two days since the ladies luncheon.

Not sure if Gina had talked to him about her “baby theory,” or if it were her imagination, but it seemed like Chet’s gaze these last couple of days lingered over her midsection longer than necessary. No way. Chet wasn’t the type of guy to stay quiet about something like that. Relief pulsed through her.

But Gina wouldn’t be the type to stay quiet and would pounce on the opportunity to clue Chet in the first moment she got. Jill wouldn’t allow that. This might be an uncomfortable subject—she really only had a suspicion with no hard-core facts about being pregnant—but she should be the one to deliver the news to Chet, not his vindictive ex-fiancée.

Though she planned to either buy an over-the-counter test or make an appointment with her doctor, she’d put it off in the hope that it was just stress and her cycle would return.

Jill forked the last bit of an omelet into her mouth and chewed as she clicked the fork along the edge of her plate.