Chapter Ten
Dizzy from the mental storm of a day that would not end, and a complete lack of sleep the night before, Cameron rolled his weary head from one shoulder to the other before knocking on Lauren’s door. Two hours late. Thirty minutes before the cocktail party began.
Disappointment showed on her face as the door swung open. The teal dress she wore made her look ethereal and divine. A one shouldered silk gown and matching sheer chiffon overlay hugged her every curve. Her thick strawberry blonde hair a tide of sensual curls that made him itch to thread his hand through the waves. The way she looked up at him expectantly showed her singular talent for making him feel at once like the most handsome, desirable man in the world, and a total ass.
“I’m sorry I’m late.”
“Late is a half hour. You missed the time of your life, I assure you.” Her lips quirked in a smile and she reached beside the door, grabbing a coat and her bag.
Stepping out into the hall she closed the door. He stepped behind her to help her with her coat, which unleashed the hypnotic scent of her perfume.
She barely spoke to him on the drive the few blocks to the concert hall, hardly acknowledged his presence once they’d entered the building. Instead of waiting with him at the coat check, she handed him her coat and pranced across the room, laying her hand on the arm of a man who looked like he stuck his finger in a light socket. Obviously he came with his wife, who Lauren greeted with a kiss on both cheeks, but Cameron still felt it starting.
Wariness seeped in as he stood in line, watching her work the room. A physical relationship he could only handle without emotional attachment. He couldn’t watch someone he cared about searching for their next target, the next rung up the social ladder. Because no matter how much money he made, or how powerful he became, he was still a scholarship kid form midtown. He couldn’t risk feeling more for Lauren than he already did.
To his surprise, she stood next to him when he turned from dropping off their coats. She threaded one hand in his, the other around the back of his neck, pulling his ear to her mouth to share a secret.
“There are two fast food franchise owners here who recycle their oil into fuel. You should get one of them for the board of the company you’re funding. And a state representative writing a bill on alternative energy, she’s the one who looks like Lilith from Fraiser. I can introduce you to her because she interned for my father, and one of my clients does the taxes for the other two, so we have an in there.”
Not exactly sweet nothings, but precisely what he needed. His hand firmly at the small of her back, he steered them from one conversation to the next, thankful for her connections and support. Before the lights flickered, showing the symphony was about to start, he’d collected a dozen business cards, and passed out twice as many of his own.
He stayed close to her through the crush of people as they made their way to their box seats; thankful an aisle separated them from the other couple sharing their box. No telling what she might say, or how it would be interpreted.
“I’m leaving in the morning,” he whispered, studying her face for a response that didn’t come.
“After brunch?” She stared straight ahead so he ran a finger down her smooth cheek. Still nothing.
“No, I have an emergency meeting in LA.” He should be there already, would be if she hadn’t been so passionate about wanting to attend the gala tonight. “I’ll be gone all next week. San Francisco, Dallas, and then New York.”
“Thanksgiving with your family?”
Was Thanksgiving next week? His life didn’t stop for holidays. The storm of noise began as the musicians tuned their instruments. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, trying to pull the different tones from one another in his mind.
The heat of her hand seeped through the wool of his tuxedo pants. He opened his eyes to see her gorgeous face had thawed into a smile.
“We have a dinner next Sunday. When will you be back?”
“Saturday afternoon. But I cancelled the dinner at the investment bankers that night so you’re off duty.”
With a nod she took his hand, kissed it, and settled it in her lap. A simple act, more intimate and affectionate than he’d ever experienced. It had him interpreting every movement of the symphony in terms of his relationship to Lauren. The ups, downs, inconsistencies, and sheer beauty.
The bold harmonic explorations of Beethoven launched the evening. He tried to keep his fingers from twitching at the notes he knew so well, but gave up. Lauren knew he played, and no one else could see. Beethoven referred to this, his fifth symphony, as fate knocking at the door. But what did fate have in store for him? Bliss or abject humiliation?
The grim first movement flowed into the swirls of hope of the second. The conductor varied the focused intensity of the movement, controlling the surges of power. The insistent rhythm marched on, quieting and coiling with tension until it exploded in an exhilarating shout. The third movement relived the build, the tension peaking until Cameron feared he might snap. When the explosion of sound echoed the beginning, showing the joy of returning to the familiar, Cameron took a deep breath.
Was fate trying to tell him that if he dared to try love again, there would be a happy ending after his explosion? Or just the inevitability of losing his mind to rejection?
…
Voices clamored in Lauren’s head, vying for attention she did not have to spare. She struggled to stay up with the conversation with the industrialist to her left and keep tabs on Cameron’s discussion with the wind power broker seated next to him.
Dessert slid in front of her at two in the morning, along with a welcomed shot of espresso. It took every ounce of breeding and decorum she possessed not to chug it and beg for three more. Cameron lucked out, the gusty windbag he sat next to requested more espresso and he piggybacked onto the order. Lucky duck.
Or maybe not. As her conversation partner opted to attack his chocolate baklava, Lauren concentrated on Cameron’s lack of enthusiasm for the night’s Moroccan themed meal. She’d guessed the soupy lamb tangine would be a bust, and even pardoned his lack of interest in the mediocre tabbouleh, but he could have at least tried the Marrakech chicken or the zucchini with almonds and feta.
She decided to sacrifice her baklava since he must be starving. But he didn’t even have more than a nibble of that.
“It’s chocolate, Cam. You like chocolate,” she whispered under her breath.
“It’s flaky. I can’t think if I’m worried about crumbs.”
He’d never make sense. He wasn’t a neat freak, orderly yes, but to starve himself because of drips, crumbs, and fear of bad breath? As the music director stood and addressed the crowd of well-dressed patrons, a plan hatched in her clever mind.
After two dull speeches and three rounds of applause the room finally began to clear. To save time, Lauren offered to stand in the coat check line while Cameron took a place waiting for the valet. The valet pulled up in the Jaguar just as she stepped beside him with their coats. Splendid.
“You don’t mind if I drive, do you baby?”
The confusion on Cameron’s face was priceless. She sashayed to the driver’s side and slid in, adjusting the seat with as much grace as she could muster. She tossed her coat and purse in the backseat, noticing they landed on a garment bag.
“What time is your flight?” she asked once he climbed in and closed the door.
“Six fifteen. Why are you driving?”
Lauren zipped into traffic and set about her mission. “Tonight went well, don’t you think? I had no idea cruise ships were interested in more environmentally friendly methods of power, but it makes total sense. I didn’t like the hydroelectric lobbyist though.”
Well, really his wife and the way she looked at Cameron like he was an ice cream cone about to melt. The woman’s tongue seemed glued to her upper lip through the whole conversation.
“I wished you hadn’t invited them to dinner.”
“I want to bounce him off the wind guy, see how they bring each other out.” He shifted in his seat, turning to face her. “Where are we going?”
“Can I have the car while you’re gone? I’ll drop you off at the airport, and even pick you up. When do you get back?”
“Saturday at three. But you don’t have to do me any more favors. You were great tonight. That’s more than enough.”
“Yes, but after the way you’ve treated me, I deserve a perk.” She swallowed her fear, turning down the familiar one-way streets and feeling more in her element. “Like driving a Jaguar for a week. It really is the least you can do.”
“I’m sorry I was late. Work was crazy today. An investor filed bankruptcy, which threw three companies into jeopardy. I’ve been running all day.”
“Did you buy condoms?”
“I have to be at the airport in an hour.”
He hadn’t thought of her at all. Not a good sign, since all through her hectic day she could think of nothing but Cameron and condoms.
She pulled along the curb and pulled the keys from the ignition. Grabbing her purse from the back, she climbed out of the car.
“What are we doing here?” Cameron stood in the street, his passenger door open as he rested his hands on the roof of the car.
“Feeding you.” Lauren slid her key into the door of Come For Dinner and stepped inside, punching the alarm code that activated the lights.
Close on her heels, Cameron entered the building. Leaving him in the storefront, she marched to her kitchen and checked the charts on the wall for what went where with tomorrow’s deliveries. Snagging a boxed lunch for now, and a boxed breakfast for him on the plane, she grabbed some bottled water and watched his baffled expression as she stacked the items in a handled green bag. She walked to him and handed him the bag.
“We’ll do a tasting on Saturday night when you get back.”
“A tasting?”
“You didn’t eat a thing tonight. I don’t want that to happen at one of my parties. I’ll pick you up and we’ll do the tasting at your house.” She stepped toward the door, but he caught her arm, spinning her around.
“Why do you keep doing things for me? What is it you want?”
You. You loving me and not caring I can’t be what you need. “To be the perfect girlfriend. It’s not every day someone asks you to be their girlfriend, you know. Most men ask you out for dinner them, and you become a girlfriend by default.”
“I’m serious.” The tense grip on her arm, the heady stare showed he was much more than serious.
“I’ve told you what I want.” Wrangling out of his grasp she walked to the door and set the alarm. “I’m buying a Christmas tree while you’re gone.”
…
Lauren pulled beneath the glowing streetlight along the curb and cursed at her early morning bad luck. She usually parked in the lot around the corner, but since she had the Jaguar she thought it would be better to have it at the curb where she could keep an eye on it.
And now Diego had his eye on it as he stood on the sidewalk. She didn’t need any lip from him, or anyone else for that matter. With barely a wink of sleep in the last two days, she didn’t have the stamina to play nice. Gripping the cappuccino from the cup holder, she climbed out of the car and activated the alarm.
His grin stretched from ear to ear as she rounded the car. “What did you do to earn a Jag?”
“Very funny.” Lauren stepped onto the sidewalk and buttoned her port wine leather city coat. She glanced inside the storefront, watching the crew bustle about the kitchen.
“I take it you’re not making deliveries today?”
“No need. Besides, I still have to put the menu options together for the wedding from Hades.” She tried to step past him, but he blocked her way.
“We agreed to do that together.”
Lauren stood tall in her French heeled boots. “I included the menu you mocked up as one option. Can we discuss this inside? It’s cold.”
“I’d rather we do this without an audience.”
Her blood chilled in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature. “What’s on your mind?”
“The Card Shop is going out of business.”
Lauren waited, staring at Diego during the pregnant pause, trying to figure out why the stationary store next door’s problems were hers.
“I talked to the leasing company already.”
“You want to run a stationary store?”
He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Not for me, for you. Come For Dinner catering was just part of our plan. You wanted to run the assembled meal business in tandem.”
Her eyes widened in shock. She’d always wanted to expand the business some day. Not today, when she was so exhausted from chasing Cameron she had no energy to get through the day, let alone chase a daydream.
“We can start remodeling after the holidays and launch in the spring.”
“I don’t know if I can.” She’d paid her mother back for the loan to start the company, and made a tidy profit even when business was slow, but not enough to remodel a space and in effect start a new venture.
“We can.” He pulled his shoulders back and tilted his head, his dark hair falling over his eyes. “I want to be a partner in Come For Dinner.”
Never in her life had she been speechless. He wanted her business. Her soul tugged in opposite directions, one half wanting to hand him the keys and become the kind of woman Cameron needed, the other screaming MINE!
“That was the plan all along, Lauren. I’d work for you until Javier went to college, save up to buy in, and then take over the catering side when you rolled out the meal side.”
“Yes, but your brother started college in September. I thought you’d buy in slowly. How can you afford to buy in, let alone get the capital to make the improvements for the expansion?”
“I can get a loan.”
“No, no banks. I don’t want anyone threatening to take my business because we have a few bad months.” She tugged at the collar of her plum turtleneck ribbed sweater, hot and choked by cotton.
“We have never had a bad month. The location is perfect Lauren, We can’t pass it up.”
“The timing is all wrong.”
“Not really.” He shrugged, while she still wanted to scream. How could he spring this on her when she hadn’t slept and couldn’t formulate a proper argument? “We’ll be ready for the spring, when all the soccer moms need help getting dinner on the table and kids to practice. Once a week they Come To Dinner, pack up their meals for the week in an afternoon, and they’re ready to go.”
“I’ll think about it, okay?”
Diego crossed his arms across his broad chest. “No, not okay. I don’t want to work for you anymore, Lauren. I need to have ownership of something.”
“Are you saying if I don’t let you buy in, you’ll quit?”
“I need more than being your chef. I can handle the catering side so you can focus on making the meal assembly plans. I’ve proven that with the dinners I’ve run. And I’ll handle the wedding. I said I would.”
“This is a lot to take in before the sun comes up. I’ll need to run the numbers on the expansion, see what I can arrange for funding.”
“Not from your moneybags boyfriend. He’s shady and I want our partnership agreement signed before you get married.”
“Protecting yourself from my impending divorce? I haven’t even slapped a wedding vow on the man yet. I don’t think you need to lawyer up already. And he not shady.” Lauren pushed past him and inside the building, the warm air rushing at her chilled face.
She couldn’t even rationalize why she was so upset. Since she’d talked Diego into signing on for her catering company, the plan had always been for him to work his way into partnership. Just not yet.
Lauren set her handbag and cup on her desk and went into the prep kitchen to make sure things were running smoothly. Satisfied Diego had all the breakfast deliveries handled, she retreated to her desk and buried herself beneath bills, schedules, and shopping lists. But the idea of living her dream flashed in her mind.
If things went right with Cameron, she’d need to enjoy him for a while and work less. If they went wrong, she’d need work to bury herself in. Really, this expansion could be playing relationship defense, a protective excuse to back off if he kept holding back. Even if things went right, and she had Cameron to herself for a while, this business venture would have more predictable hours than catering. She’d be available for even more of his functions.
Soon her busy work was finished and she surfed the internet, gathering information on the fast growing prepared meal trend. If she’d hopped on the idea two years ago when she’d thought of it, she could be franchising by now.
The concept was especially hot on the East Coast, with families looking for healthy options as well as singles tired of takeout. Researching the competition, she compiled pricing and marketing, and drooled over menus. She was the queen of put together cooking, but with Diego’s gourmet touch Come For Dinner would really stand out.
Casseroles and comfort foods seemed to be the mainstay. Profitable, but boring. They could spice it up with ethnic foods and salads, more breakfast options for weekend mornings, maybe even work in delivery for those who didn’t want to pick up the meals themselves.
But where to get the money? She’d have to ask her mother again. Not wanting to take advantage, she opened a file one her computer and began drafting a formal business proposal, just like she had when she asked for backing the first time.
The world moved in a blur until a cup of coffee slid next to her hand. Lauren looked up, smiling at Diego.
“I like the way you think.” He smiled, sipping from his own cup.
“You like that I handle the business side and you get to be creative with food.” She shook her head and laughed, wrapping her hands around the warm cup and took a sip. Cappuccino. How she loved this man.
“We’re a good team, Lauren. I want us to stay that way. I’m sorry about how I put things earlier, about Cameron. I don’t know what’s going on with you two. He shows up and all the sudden you’re together, he buys you a car but not a ring—”
“It’s his car. He’s out of town, so I’m playing with it.” She sipped too fast, the hot liquid burning her tongue. Setting it down on her desk she stood and looked about the near empty room. Catching sight of the clock on the wall she noted their wedding planning meeting began in ten minutes.
“And the ring?”
“We’re not that serious and besides, I’d never wear it. Always having to take it off when I worked. No point in wearing it before I have to.” She gestured her bare hands with elegance, but then they fell flat against her sides. The psychic residuals of that lie were sure to hurt.
Diego nodded like he believed her. “I want to set this menu. I need to show you that I can handle the catering side on my own.”
“There’s no need. We’re a team, Diego. You make the food taste good, I make it look good. I handle the logistics, you deal with the operations. We compliment each other perfectly. I don’t want to draw a line down the middle with what is yours and what is mine. We’ll both do what we’re good at.”
“So we’re partners?” One dark eyebrow rose.
“If we can convince my mother to bankroll us.”