sister.
She’d done it enough times that she was comfortable with Jean’s staff. In fact, it was fun bantering back and forth with the others as they did prep work in the client’s impressive kitchen.
When the guests began to arrive, Sarah straightened her black-and-white apron with its embroidered We Cater to You logo and picked up a platter of mini quiches, stuffed mushroom caps, and phyllo puffs filled with Brie and chutney. “Into the fray.”
As she circulated, smiling politely, she studied the partygoers and felt immensely relieved to be one of the staff, not a guest. This wasn’t her kind of scene. She preferred meaningful one-on-one conversations, not this animated, almost frenetic socializing. She watched as women flitted around the room, tossing their hair, laughing too loudly, exchanging a few words, giving another artificial laugh, then moving on. Oh yes, everyone was determined to have fun tonight—or at least to give the impression they were having fun.
When she caught herself shaking her head in pity, she hurriedly plastered the smile back on her face.
That was when she saw him. He was clad in a tux like most of the other men but managed to look casual rather than stiff. If she assessed his features one by one—dark brown hair, rather prominent nose, determined jaw—she’d have to say they were nothing special, and yet they went together particularly well. Besides, there was something arresting about him. Perhaps because he was alone, unmoving, leaning one shoulder against a wall and watching the bustle that swirled around him.
Although he didn’t look nervous, she wondered if perhaps he was a stranger to the group, and feeling out of place. Sarah imagined herself in the same position if she’d accepted Caitlin’s New Year’s Eve invitation.
Maybe she was being fanciful. Likely he’d come with one of those pretty party women and was just taking a breather from the action.
Still, if he was feeling uncomfortable, wasn’t it her job to put him at ease? That was all she was doing, she told herself as she slipped through the crowd and headed over to him. It really had nothing to do with how attractive she found him.
When she was halfway there, his gaze fixed on her, making her feel self-conscious—but in a nice, feminine way she hadn’t felt in a long time.
She cleared her throat. “Good evening. May I offer you an appetizer?”
Most people immediately looked down at the tray and made a selection, but this man continued to study her face. From someone else, the prolonged attention might have seemed rude, but somehow he made her feel as if he was really seeing her, as if he was interested in knowing her.
Now there she went, being fanciful again. Embarrassed, she ducked her head and moved the tray another inch or two closer to him.
When she glanced up again, he was smiling. The smile was friendly and genuine, unlike the superficial ones she’d been seeing all evening.
“What do you recommend?” he asked.
“Everything’s sheer heaven,” she responded honestly. “My sister’s an excellent chef.”
“Ah.” His gaze dipped to her shoulder, where the logo was embroidered, then up again. “You and your sister run We Cater to You ?”
“No, it’s Jean’s business. I’m just helping out tonight because someone got sick.” He still hadn’t made a selection, so she said, “Try the phyllo puffs, they’re my favorite. There’s Brie cheese and homemade peach chutney inside.”
He took one and popped it into his mouth. His movements were slow and easy, like a man who had all the time in the world and was enjoying spending it with her.
“Mmm,” he said. “Very good. My compliments to your sister.” He wiped his fingers on a napkin. “So, what do you do?”
“I’m the manager of an arts and crafts shop. It’s called Country Treasures. Do you know it?”
He shook his head. “But I’m new to town. I’ll be sure to look for it.”
Sarah wondered if he was just being
She’d done it enough times that she was comfortable with Jean’s staff. In fact, it was fun bantering back and forth with the others as they did prep work in the client’s impressive kitchen.
When the guests began to arrive, Sarah straightened her black-and-white apron with its embroidered We Cater to You logo and picked up a platter of mini quiches, stuffed mushroom caps, and phyllo puffs filled with Brie and chutney. “Into the fray.”
As she circulated, smiling politely, she studied the partygoers and felt immensely relieved to be one of the staff, not a guest. This wasn’t her kind of scene. She preferred meaningful one-on-one conversations, not this animated, almost frenetic socializing. She watched as women flitted around the room, tossing their hair, laughing too loudly, exchanging a few words, giving another artificial laugh, then moving on. Oh yes, everyone was determined to have fun tonight—or at least to give the impression they were having fun.
When she caught herself shaking her head in pity, she hurriedly plastered the smile back on her face.
That was when she saw him. He was clad in a tux like most of the other men but managed to look casual rather than stiff. If she assessed his features one by one—dark brown hair, rather prominent nose, determined jaw—she’d have to say they were nothing special, and yet they went together particularly well. Besides, there was something arresting about him. Perhaps because he was alone, unmoving, leaning one shoulder against a wall and watching the bustle that swirled around him.
Although he didn’t look nervous, she wondered if perhaps he was a stranger to the group, and feeling out of place. Sarah imagined herself in the same position if she’d accepted Caitlin’s New Year’s Eve invitation.
Maybe she was being fanciful. Likely he’d come with one of those pretty party women and was just taking a breather from the action.
Still, if he was feeling uncomfortable, wasn’t it her job to put him at ease? That was all she was doing, she told herself as she slipped through the crowd and headed over to him. It really had nothing to do with how attractive she found him.
When she was halfway there, his gaze fixed on her, making her feel self-conscious—but in a nice, feminine way she hadn’t felt in a long time.
She cleared her throat. “Good evening. May I offer you an appetizer?”
Most people immediately looked down at the tray and made a selection, but this man continued to study her face. From someone else, the prolonged attention might have seemed rude, but somehow he made her feel as if he was really seeing her, as if he was interested in knowing her.
Now there she went, being fanciful again. Embarrassed, she ducked her head and moved the tray another inch or two closer to him.
When she glanced up again, he was smiling. The smile was friendly and genuine, unlike the superficial ones she’d been seeing all evening.
“What do you recommend?” he asked.
“Everything’s sheer heaven,” she responded honestly. “My sister’s an excellent chef.”
“Ah.” His gaze dipped to her shoulder, where the logo was embroidered, then up again. “You and your sister run We Cater to You ?”
“No, it’s Jean’s business. I’m just helping out tonight because someone got sick.” He still hadn’t made a selection, so she said, “Try the phyllo puffs, they’re my favorite. There’s Brie cheese and homemade peach chutney inside.”
He took one and popped it into his mouth. His movements were slow and easy, like a man who had all the time in the world and was enjoying spending it with her.
“Mmm,” he said. “Very good. My compliments to your sister.” He wiped his fingers on a napkin. “So, what do you do?”
“I’m the manager of an arts and crafts shop. It’s called Country Treasures. Do you know it?”
He shook his head. “But I’m new to town. I’ll be sure to look for it.”
Sarah wondered if he was just being
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