Stand-In Groom by Kaye Dacus Page A

the kitchen?”
    He returned the smile, his own stomach feeling grumbly. “I’d like to introduce you to Mama Ketty, the housekeeper and, for now, cook.”
    As he’d hoped, Mama Ketty cooed over Courtney and insisted on cooking dinner for her, even given the late hour of nine o’clock—Mama Ketty’s normal bedtime. Mrs. Agee bustled around the kitchen in her bathrobe and slippers, silver hair mounted on enormous curlers and covered with another colorful scarf.
    “Show me your room, George.” Courtney slid off the barstool.
    “There isn’t much to show.” He ushered her down the hall, opened the door, and motioned for her to enter.
    “This can’t be your bedroom. No, you’ll have to move into one of the upstairs bedrooms.”
    He laughed. “No, this is just the antechamber.”
    She opened the second door and looked around. “Well. It’s big enough.” She disappeared through another door. “And the bathroom is great—better than mine at Mama’s house.” Coming back out, she pinned him with an amused gaze. “Tomorrow we go furniture shopping. I know you have a budget to furnish your room—I heard that part of the conversation at least. I know all the best places where you can get nice stuff cheap.”
    Furniture shopping with Courtney would help seal his assumed identity. He pushed aside the guilt that threatened every time he thought about the untenable situation he’d allowed himself to become entangled in. How was this going to reflect on his witness as a Christian when the truth finally came out?
    “Now, George, it won’t be as bad as what you’re thinking—no, I can tell by your expression you don’t like shopping. But it’ll be fun; I promise.”
    He immediately composed his expression and bowed his head toward her. “As long as I don’t end up with a pink faux-fur rug, I would appreciate your help.”
    Laughing, she tapped his arm with her fist. “Not funny.”
    “You two ’bout ready to eat?” Mama Ketty stood in the doorway, arms folded.
    They followed her back out into the kitchen and sat at the bar, where she’d put plates piled high with scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, and hash browns. Beside the main dish sat smaller plates with a stack of pancakes dripping with butter and syrup.
    “Breakfast food’s my specialty. Coffee’s on—decaf—and I”— she paused to kiss Courtney on the cheek—“am going”—she kissed George’s cheek—“to bed.”
    “Good night, Mama Ketty.”
    “Thank you so much, Mama Ketty,” Courtney said around a bite of pancakes.
    George poured coffee while Courtney wolfed down the food. She was halfway through when her cell phone sounded a familiar tune. Her eyes lit up, and her countenance glowed. To give her some privacy, he took his plate and coffee into the staff dining room—an octagonal chamber with a round, eight-person table as the centerpiece.
    He’d no more than sat down when Courtney squealed with excitement and rushed into the room, phone still pressed to her ear. “Can you take me to the airport tomorrow? Charter terminal?”
    He frowned but nodded. “Of course.”
    She jumped up and down a little bit and returned to the kitchen. He ate slowly, enjoying the disparate flavors of the foods—the briny crisp bacon, spicy link sausage, eggs oozing with cheddar cheese, all washed down with rich, dark-roast coffee.
    “I’m going to New York—and then he’s taking me to Paris tobuy me my trousseau.” Courtney leaned over him from behind, hugging him around the neck.
    She’d needed something to take her mind off the scene at her mother’s home. “I know you’ll enjoy that.”
    “He also said something about apartments for me, and you could give me the addresses?”
    “Of course.” Three months ago George had signed leases on town houses in both cities when his employer decided to propose but wanted to keep the relationship a secret. Besides, she wouldn’t have stayed in his apartment with him anyway. She wouldn’t risk her