Chapter Two
Lauren scampered to the door, grateful for the chance to catch her breath. She’d tried to focus while talking to Cameron Price, but she kept getting distracted by his bright blue eyes, fringed with unfairly long dark lashes. And that voice. A rich baritone, filled with lascivious suggestion.
She checked her lip for drool and pulled open the front door. Bob and Sonja Anders stood at the entry and she stepped aside, waving them in. Sonja arched a perfectly shaped blonde brow and eyed Lauren as she entered the foyer.
Looking down at her feet, Lauren winced. Barefoot. Great way to impress a woman like Sonja Anders, shod in Prada’s finest.
“Can I take your coats?” Lauren offered, looking for any chance to slip away. In seconds Sonja would be commenting on Lauren’s lack of uniform and footwear, which might mean she’d have to explain about the unfortunate avocado incident. Best to disappear rather than let a client know something had gone wrong.
“Bob can hang them in the closet.” Sonja shrugged out of her ivory sheared mink coat to reveal an elegant off-white boucle dress suit. “Did you bring extra hangers down?”
Lauren nodded and wished she hadn’t doused herself in avocado. In her work uniform she knew her place. Her perfect little black dress usually made her feel confident and sexy, but next to Sonja Anders’s obvious couture, the black viscose silk felt off season. And being three years old, it was.
“This is very interesting,” Sonja said as Bob retreated with their coats. “I had no idea. I should have thought of it. You are the perfect solution.”
”Am I?” Lauren smiled, lost and desperately needing a translation. Was Sonja commenting on the slight changes in decor?
“You know, it makes perfect sense. He’s just so private about these matters. I actually asked Bob if he might be gay.”
The breath she’s just taken expanded in her chest. No one else was supposed to be on board her train of thought.
Sonja grinned and patted her arm. “I know. It would be a crying shame.”
“Sorry about that.” Cameron joined them and stood beside her. Lauren was glad for the reprieve from Sonja’s confusing scrutiny.
“I’m going to go check on dinner. It was nice seeing you again.” She smiled at Sonja and tried to retreat to the less puzzling confines of the kitchen, but Cameron’s warm fingers on her arm stalled her.
“Thank you, Lauren. For everything.” Oh, that smile could be lethal. Absolutely deadly. Lauren nodded and prayed he used his powers for good rather than evil.
…
“Quite a few women will be very disappointed.” Sonja Anders’s voice lilted as she shook her head and grinned, her perfectly coifed blonde hair not moving an inch.
“How so?” Never sure what to make of her, Cameron tried to remain noncommittal and hoped Bob would come back soon.
“You know Cameron, you could have told me you were seeing someone, saved me the trouble of compiling a list of potential women for you. But then—” She laid a hand on his arm, the rich pink manicured fingernails bright against the dark gray of his shirt. “This is new, isn’t it? I’ll keep the list, just in case.”
Damn. Sonja thought he and Lauren were together. He swallowed hard at the idea of her playing matchmaker. He had no time for dating, and even if he did care to, he couldn’t risk it, not with so much on the line.
“What’s this?” Bob Anders asked, joining the group.
“Cameron is seeing Lauren Brody,” Sonja supplied.
“Who’s that?” Bob scrunched his round face.
“The caterer.”
“Oh. Good choice. But a bit quick, Cameron.”
“I agree. If she doesn’t work out, he can start with a few of my suggestions.”
Cameron cleared his throat. “I’m not taking suggestions.” The Anders’ had been parental with him since Bob invited him to join the firm five years ago, but this crossed the line.
“Cameron, don’t start this again.” Sonja pursed her lips and crossed her arms across her chest. “You need someone to help you manage your life. You don’t understand the difficulty of the position you are taking on. The paycheck may only have your name on it, but it is a partnership. You need someone to manage the house, coordinate when you entertain, and be your eyes and ears at events. You can’t do this alone.”
“I’m not. I have Lauren.” Cameron understood why Sonja would be so sensitive about this, thinking he needed a wife the way Bob needed her. But he wasn’t about to go on dates to validate her sense of self-worth.
“For now.” Bob nodded. “And she is a great short-term solution, but if things sour you’ll be without a companion and a caterer. You should meet a few of Sonja’s choices, so you have options.”
“No.” Cameron shook his head and sighed. How did he make this stop without creating tension with the Anders’? The last thing he needed were people thinking they had a rift.
Sonja chuffed. “It can’t be that serious with her already. You just got here.”
“She’s been catering your parties for years.” Stop. Stop now. “Parties I attended, Sonja.” What are you doing?
“Oh.” Sonja stood up straighter. “My. Well, that certainly makes more sense now.”
“Good.” Glad it did to someone.
“So that’s why you never brought a date with you to parties in New York.” Bob’s cheery grin spread across his face. “You sly devil. No wonder you agreed so quickly to the move. I thought I’d have to sell you on it, but you jumped at the chance.”
Cameron opened his mouth, but didn’t know what to say. He’d only meant to make Sonja and Bob stop their badgering, not lie his way into a long-term relationship.
Thankfully the doorbell rang again, saving him from having to explain. Though, maybe he wouldn’t have to explain tonight. If he could just make it through this party, he could sort the rest out later.
“Would you mind getting that?” he asked Bob. “I need to see what’s keeping Lauren.”
Cameron dashed off without waiting for a response, needing to see if she’d be at all willing to play along for a night. He headed down the hallway to the kitchen he hadn’t so much as stepped into yet.
“Is he straight?” A falsetto voice asked from behind the closed door.
“Yes, he’s straight,” Lauren said. At least she’d determined that much from their conversation. “I think.”
Cameron winced.
“It doesn’t matter. The guests are arriving, so we need to get the drink service set, and the potato crisps circulating.”
“I’ll set the bar.” The falsetto was back. “I want to get a good look at old blue eyes and see which team he plays for.”
Just what he needed. Cameron shook his head and knocked on the kitchen door before entering. Everyone froze as he stepped onto the tile, except for a tall, brawny, dark-haired guy by the stove.
Lauren recovered first. “Mr. Price, can I help you with something?”
He waited for her gaze to lock with his. “You can call me Cameron.” He smiled as the kitchen came to life again around them. “Can I talk to you for a moment, privately?”
“Absolutely.” She nodded, and then turned to her staff. “Diego, can you make sure the hors d’oeuvres get started?”
The brooding hulk lifted an eyebrow, to which Lauren shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. With a shrug of his own, he turned back around. Cameron’s stomach sank. He’d noticed she wore no ring, but didn’t think far enough ahead to realize a boyfriend might be in the picture. But then, he hadn’t done any thinking ahead where this plan was concerned. The doorbell gonged through the house, making Cameron wonder how loud it would seem first thing in the morning. There had to be a way to turn it down.
He ushered Lauren out of the kitchen and deeper into the hallway, turning them both into the den at the end of the hall. She looked up at him expectantly.
“I’ve done a really stupid thing,” Cameron began, taking a deep breath before digging his hole any deeper. He needed to know one thing about her before he tried to convince her of anything. “You and the big guy in the kitchen, are you together?”
“Big guy? You mean Diego? He’s not any taller than you.” Her rosy cheeks lifted in a smile. “Why would you think that?”
“Non-verbal communication. Speaks volumes about relationships.” And if she were in one, he wouldn’t even bother asking for this favor.
“Ah. We can do that because we often need to talk in front of clients. Like in the kitchen. He wanted to know if I knew what was wrong.”
“But outside of work, are you together?”
“Cameron, are you asking if I am single?” She cocked her head to the side, her long braid dangling over her shoulder.
“In a way, yes.”
“Diego and I are friends, good friends, but no sparks.”
“Good. Because I need a favor, a really big one for this party to run smoothly.”
“I’m your girl. Tell me what you need.”
Her dusky whisper could be his undoing. Still he had no other option until he could get Anders’ to see reason on the wife issue. Cameron swallowed his pride.
“I need you.”
Lauren’s breath caught in her throat and she could have sworn her heart stopped for a full three seconds. “You need me?”
“You’ve worked for Sonja Anders before. You know how…” He pressed his lips together and pondered the ceiling as if looking for the right word to describe the force of nature that was Mrs. Anders. “How determined she can be.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed.” Lauren grinned and stared up at him. His eyes had a glassy shine to them, making them even more dynamic.
“Sonja’s decided I need a wife. Came prepared tonight with a list of potential brides.” He shook his head like he couldn’t believe this was happening. That made two of them. “With this new promotion, the move, and starting the alternative energy fund, I don’t have the time to devote to a relationship, even if I wanted one.”
“Which you don’t. Want a relationship, I mean.” Too bad.
“Not now, no. But I don’t want to get into it with her tonight. If everyone’s first impression of me is that I’m feuding with the Anders’, it will be an uphill battle to win their trust.”
“And how do I factor into this?”
Cameron rubbed the back of his neck. “I need you to pretend we’re together.”
Lauren blinked, positive her heart really did stop this time. “Come again?”
“Just for tonight. I’ll set Anders straight tomorrow when his wife isn’t in tow. Help me get through the evening, and I’ll…I’ll…”
“You’ll what?” She bit her lip, wondering what he might offer.
“I’m trying to think of something you would want. Offering you money seems insulting—”
“It is.”
“I know.” He winced, his naturally down-turned mouth forming a frown. “There has to be something you want from me. Anything.”
Lauren bit her cheek to try and dislodge the erotic image dancing before her eyes. That was nothing but the fast track to disappointment. He didn’t do relationships, and she didn’t have sex outside of them. But she never turned her back on the opportunity to have a little fun, either.
“I understand this is crazy, Lauren. If it weren’t my introduction to the firm, I wouldn’t be asking. Usually, I set them straight the second they start in, but they assumed something was going on before I could explain, and I need tonight to go well.”
Lauren looked him over again. His hair was expertly cut, a little too short, but stylish. The long straight nose, prominent high cheekbones and chiseled chin set an almost arrogant tone to his expression. The clothes he wore were expensive, tailored, and classic. His shoes Italian, probably handmade. But his hands gave her pause. Long fingers and blunt cut nails, almost as if they’d been manicured. Maybe her instincts about him were wrong.
“Are you gay? Are you asking me to be your beard?”
“What? No.” His hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Why would you even ask me that?”
Lauren studied him, still wondering why he felt the need to put on a charade when any woman off the street would agree to date him. “Your hands are very clean.”
“I showered before dinner.” He held up his hands, studying the fronts and backs. “Hands can’t be gay, I don’t think. My cousin is gay and he’s a landscaper. Filthy fingernails, but he always has a boyfriend.”
“Then why not simply ask someone out?”
“Because.” Cameron took a deep breath and huffed it out. “You ask a woman to do things for you, and she expects you to reciprocate. I don’t have time for that. I can’t be focused on my job and give a new relationship what it deserves. Using a woman for her party skills could end badly if she thought there was more to it. This is convenient because you are a caterer, and business, so no disappointments.”
Lauren couldn’t help but smile. She’d been in the situation he described too many times. Had romantic opportunities fall by the wayside because she’d been too busy trying to get Come For Dinner off the ground. She’d disappointed a few men along the way. At least he knew better than to waste someone’s time.
She’d catch hell for this from her friends, but part of her wanted to feel what her parties were like from the other side. And what could it hurt, really?
“An exclusive agreement.”
“Excuse me?”
“That’s what I want from you. If you, or Anders & Norton, throw a party, Come For Dinner gets to cater it. For, let’s say, the next three months.”
“Done. You make sure all my parties are as well set-up as this one, and I’ll make sure you have as much business as you can handle.”
Damn. She should have asked for six months. “Well, okay then.” She offered her hand. He took it with a smile, his firm handshake making her tingle from fingertips to shoulder.
“Sonja thought it was too soon for us to be serious enough for her to call off her wife hunt, so I led her to believe we met a while back at one of their parties.”
“A bi-coastal relationship. Interesting.” Lauren smoothed her hands against the skirt of her dress and looked down at her feet. “Oh no.”
“What?”
“I don’t have any shoes. I can’t go out there barefoot.”
“What happened to your shoes?” Cameron tilted his head to the side.
“An unfortunate incident with the soup. Hence the dress.” What could she do? She’d seen the guest list for this party. Half the crowd were also her clients. She couldn’t serve them dinner with her rainy day red toenail polish on display.
“I’m not following you.”
“Picture an avocado facial for my uniform and my shoes. I picked up my dry cleaning this afternoon on my way here and this dress was in the bag. Lucky thing, or else I’d be in the kitchen in my gym clothes.”
“So tell everyone you spilled soup on them.”
“I can’t. No kitchen disasters can ever overshadow a party.” The doorbell chimed again, making them both tense. “We’ll tell them I broke a heel, and had no time to go home and get a new pair.”
“Brilliant. Let’s go.”
Lauren swallowed hard. Diego had been after her for months to run a party on his own. And she trusted him. Well, she could trust him. Except with avocado soup. Everything was planned from service to tear down. He could do this, if she could only let go.
“I’ll clue the kitchen in on what’s going on and then be right out.”
“You can’t tell them.” He shook his head frantically.
“I have to tell them something, Cameron. Go, greet your guests, have a drink. I’ll be right there.”
“Thank you, Lauren.”
“Please.” She waved her hand through the air. “There are a hundred women who’d have dinner with you for free.”
“Maybe, but they’d expect me to call the next day.”
“Oh, you’ll call. Exclusivity for three months, remember?”
He smiled and turned, and she watched those long legs stride confidently down the hall. Still unsure what her cover story would be to her team, Lauren returned to the kitchen. Diego eyed her as he whisked the vinaigrette. She stepped to him, keeping her shoulders back and her chin up.
“Diego, I need for you to run the dinner tonight.”
“You feeling alright?”
“Yes, Cameron has asked me to join him for dinner.” She ignored the eyebrow Diego arched and turned to the team, all staring at her wide-eyed. “Anne, can you please arrange another place setting at the table? Ricky, I need you to mock up another salad.”
“Hey, I’m running things.” Diego nudged her with his muscled arm. “Go, enjoy your date with Mr. TDH. What does that mean anyway?”
“Tall, dark, and handsome,” Anne filled in.
Diego shook his head. “I’ve got this covered.”
She stuck out her tongue at him and wiggled her fingers at the whispering peanut gallery as she exited the kitchen. Let them think it was a date. They’d all teased her for not dating enough anyway. For a few hours of her time, she’d see a party from the other side of the kitchen, land a fat new account, and get her friends off her back for a few months. All for honeying up to Cameron Price.
…
“Nobody’s talking.” Standing at the wet bar across from the dining room, Cameron handed Lauren a martini as bright red as her toenail polish and picked up his scotch. His second of the night. He hoped it might calm his nerves, but tension ate at him.
“Yes, everyone does seem to be rather socially stunted.” She stretched her neck from one side to the other and took a sip of her drink. “Is this usually how it works? You stare at each other and nod?”
“Usually there is business to discuss. But this is just everyone looking at me.” He looked over at the living room where everyone congregated. They all stood expectantly, as if he were supposed to put on a show.
“Well, then it’s time you flexed your flirt muscle a bit.” Lauren leaned closer as she spoke, her finger running up and down his arm. “You want them to like you. Court them.”
“I want them to respect me.”
“Sure, but that will come later. Now, you need to kiss a little proactive ass.”
“I don’t kiss anyone’s ass.”
“Then you need to learn how, sugar. I know just the thing.” Lauren linked her arm in his and led him into the lion’s den.
His lips curled in distaste, but he followed her anyway. What conversation there was halted as they entered the room. His gaze cut from side to side, recognizing few of the faces. Plastering on the mask of confidence he’d perfected, Cameron greeted his guests and introduced Lauren.
“You know what might be fun?” Lauren slipped away from him and perched on the arm of the couch. “You’re all here to get to know Cameron, so how about if everyone asks him a question?”
“You mean like how he takes his coffee?” The woman seated next to her asked. “Or should we be asking you?”
“Cream, no sugar.” Cameron supplied to the woman who looked like she lost a fight with the cosmetics counter.
Lauren sighed and winked at him, crossing her shapely legs and leaning toward the catty woman. “I’m working on that. He has no idea what good coffee is.”
The crowd laughed and Cameron felt a bit of the tension ease. His favorite book, Dickens’s Great Expectations, drew a few nods. As did his growing up in New York City. Lauren played her role so well even he had to remind himself her coy glances and furtive touches were an act.
When someone asked about his education he formed some camaraderie with the controller who, like him, earned her undergraduate degree at NYU. When he spoke of his time earning his MBA at Harvard, two of the account managers warmed to him in a sense of brotherhood.
At some point Lauren snuck away, but he didn’t notice until she slipped a fresh drink into his hand and suggested they all sit down to dinner. Which he probably should have been the one to do. Maybe Lauren would give him some lessons on how to host a dinner party.
She did a wonderful job of it. Dinner table conversation flowed like a history lesson of Seattle. They discussed all the happenings of the city—buildings, politics, sports, environmental concerns, and cultural events. He learned more than he had on the internet, and actually got a lead on where he might find a decent bagel, instead of the fluffy white bread thing the girl at the coffee shop tried to pass off this morning.
When people suggested restaurants for him and Lauren to try she never batted an eye, listing places she planned to show him now that they had more time together. The look she gave him across the table convinced him their relationship smoldered with passion, and he knew it was an act. He’d need more than an exclusive catering contract to thank her for this.
Dessert was fabulous. A dense chocolate slice of heaven that was more fudge than cake. It was the only thing he ate. He’d spent the other courses chatting up someone at the table, it wasn’t until dessert that he’d spoken to them all.
After dessert, Lauren ushered everyone into the living room. A waiter arrived with a tray of champagne flutes, red raspberries bubbling at the bottom of every glass.
She’d tied everything together. Raspberries in the martinis, salad, dessert, and now the champagne. No wonder Sonja had recommended her so highly.
Handing her a flute she smiled up at him, lacing their hands together and standing much too close. Cameron smiled and looked away, needing to remind himself of reality.
All he really needed from the girlfriend the Anders’ insisted on was a caterer who liked to throw great parties. Maybe she’d be willing to help him again. She’d make sure his parties went off without a hitch, and he’d make sure she had more business than she could handle. Easy enough.
“Cameron,” Bob Anders asked. “If I may?” Anders raised his glass and Cameron nodded and smiled, thankful for the save.
“I think we should all raise our glasses to the lady of the evening. Lauren, you’ve done a wonderful job with the dinner, like always. But more than that, the house looks beautiful, and you’ve filled in a missing piece of the puzzle for me. Let’s all toast to Cameron and Lauren, and their long-distance relationship becoming more permanent now that they live in the same town.”