The Billionaire's Christmas Miracle (Sweet Billionaires 3) Page 4

  “Ugh, I’m sorry. I don’t know how you work around food all night. I’d either be eating it all or vomiting from the smells.”

  Gwen rolled her eyes. Carrie rarely ate more than a salad and chicken breast. There was no way she would put the greasy half-baked half-fried food that Gwen served in her mouth. Of course, that was probably why Carrie was a size six while Gwen struggled to maintain her thicker size eight to ten.

  “Well, we don’t get to eat the food often, and puking on the job is frowned upon.” However, it wasn’t always easy. She didn’t like most of the food she served, but the London Broil was fabulous. Occasionally, when there was food left over, the caterers could eat after they cleaned up. It wasn’t always warm by then, but the London Broil even heated well.

  “What do you think it is tonight? A wedding?”

  Gwen shook her head as she grabbed her coat and scarf. “No, wrong time of year for a wedding. Birthday party maybe or some work thing.” Gwen was generally more upbeat, but the loss of her bracelet plus her landlord raising her rent had her down. People said God never gave you more than you could handle, but Gwen felt at the end of her rope.

  “I know it’s hard right now, but if you ever need money, all you have to do is ask,” Carrie said.

  Gwen sighed. “I know, but you know I want to take care of myself as long as I can.” She’d had to depend on people too long in foster care, and things hadn’t always turned out in her favor. When she reached the age of eighteen, Gwen made a promise to herself that she would be self-sufficient. She hoped she wouldn’t have to break it. “Take care of my fur ball,” she said as she pulled open the front door and headed into the parking lot.

  Ten minutes later, Gwen pulled into the parking lot of the catering company. She grabbed her green apron from the passenger seat and stuffed it in her purse before exiting the car and locking the door. She didn’t mind the work, but the uniform left a lot to be desired. Black pants, white shirt, and the ugly forest green apron.

  Her co-worker, Rachel, was already hard at work grabbing items from the list and stuffing them in the bins. In addition to the food, they had to bring enough plates, bowls, cups, and silverware along with serving utensils and the Sterno containers to heat the food. Someone cooked most of the food the night before and then wrapped it up and placed in the refrigerator.

  “What can I help with?” Gwen asked as she tossed her purse on the table. She grabbed her apron from it and tied it about her waist.

  “I’m packing the serving utensils. Do you want to grab the plates and bowls?”

  “Sure.” Rachel handed over the list and Gwen scanned the numbers. This would not be a large party. Probably not a birthday party then. Small parties meant fewer dishes, but it meant serving people at the table instead of in a buffet line. It was a good thing Gwen had worn her comfortable shoes. She’d be earning her ten thousand steps tonight.

  Gwen grabbed a tub and began loading the plates in. They were in the cabinet in sets of tens, so she placed five rows in the tub. Then she filled in the remaining space with the bowls packing them carefully to avoid breakage. By the time she finished, Rachel had packed the utensils and moved on to checking the food.

  “Who’s working with us today?” Gwen asked. Fifty people wasn’t too large for two, but it would be easier with three.

  Rachel rolled her eyes. “Martin, but you know how he is. It might as well be just you and me.”

  Martin was their boss. At only twenty-three, he was younger than them both, but he was the manager because his family owned the catering company. Gwen hated nepotism, especially when it allowed inept people to be in positions of power. Martin was such a person. He didn’t think he needed to do the prep work or the clean-up work. He would show up just in time to drive the truck. Then he would disappear when it came time to unload until everything was set up. Even during the serving, he would spend more time chatting with the patrons than serving people.

  Gwen sighed. It would be a long night, but at least the pay would be worth it. Hopefully, she would earn enough to sock some away in her savings. Her apartment was fine, but she wanted a home of her own - something she hadn’t had since the age of twelve when her parents died. She had been putting a little from every catering job in savings, and she hoped to put a down payment on a little house soon.

  Gwen joined Rachel in loading the food, and after a second check, they began carting the tubs out to the van. As the last tub slid in, Martin appeared.

  “Oh, good, it looks like you two are ready. Sorry, I was caught in a phone call.”

  Gwen and Rachel traded looks. Martin was always caught in something. It was called an aversion to work.

  “Well, let’s load up.” As expected, Martin climbed into the driver’s side. Gwen slid into the middle, and Rachel followed suit, sitting closest to the door. The ride was quiet and uncomfortable. Gwen couldn’t wait until they arrived, and she could focus on work.

  A few minutes later, Martin pulled up in front of the back entrance of the hall where the event was being held. “I’ll park here while you girls unload, and then I’ll be in to help set up.”

  Rachel let out a soft snort. They both knew that wouldn’t happen. She opened her door and held it open for Gwen to scoot out as well. When it was shut, they walked to the back of the van to begin unloading.

  “At least we can do it all in one trip,” Rachel said with a sigh as she eyed the tubs.

  “Just tell yourself it’s your workout.” Gwen tried to hit the gym a few times a week after work, but she knew she needed to lift more. Her clothes always fit a little better when she did.

  “Yeah, if only I liked working out.” Rachel was larger than Gwen, short and stocky. Though Gwen didn’t know her well, Rachel often spoke of cooking as her hobby. Gwen thought she had mentioned wanting to author a cookbook once.

  They pulled down the first cart and hefted one of the tubs onto the bottom shelf. Then they climbed back in the van to grab a second tub for the top shelf.

  “You’d think he could help while he’s parked here,” Rachel hissed under her breath.

  Gwen shrugged. She didn’t like it either, but she wasn’t one to buck authority. She needed the job too much, and she’d never had the courage to stand up to people. When her parents had been killed, she’d gone into the foster system. Some foster kids bucked the system and revolted, but Gwen had gone the other direction - retreating into her shell. Her first home had been awful, but when the CPS worker had finally checked on her and found her locked in a closet, she’d been removed. The next place had been much better. Those foster parents had been nice, but Gwen had never really let them in. Losing people hurt too much, and trust was hard for her to give.

  With the first cart full, Gwen helped Rachel load the other cart, and they wheeled them into the building. The kitchen was large and uncluttered which Gwen was thankful for. She hated when there was no kitchen and they had to bring back the dishes to wash them. By then, caked on food made it harder to scrub off, and they invariably had to wash the tub as well.

  Rachel checked her watch. “Well, we have about an hour, so I guess we should get set up. We can wait to start the Sterno for another few minutes.”

  Gwen nodded and opened her tub.

  Chapter 5

  The limo stopped in front of the small building. “Here we are, sir,” Manuel said from the driver’s seat as he turned off the engine.

  Drew waited for Manuel to open the door before stepping out. His eyes scanned the building as he stood. Not large, but a nice location nonetheless. The hall sat on the edge of a river, and one wall was entirely glass, granting an astounding view of the area.

  “Thank you, Manuel. Keep your phone on in case I can sneak out of here early.”

  Manuel nodded. “As you wish, sir.”

  Drew returned the nod and ran a hand down his suit before heading into the building. A man in black pants and a crisp white shirt opened the door. Drew hadn’t been expecting a doorman at such a small event. H
e motioned to the closed doors straight ahead. “Enjoy your night, sir.”

  If only he could, but Drew had been attending these events for so long that the novelty had worn off. There had been a time he once loved dressing up in a suit and attending the affairs. They had made him feel important, something he didn’t always feel knowing his money wasn’t his but an inheritance from his father. In addition, he had harbored the notion he would meet his future wife at one of these events.

  However, the women were much like the food - they all looked the same after the first few events. Sure, they showed up in their designer dresses looking like a million dollars. They smiled at all the right times and laughed at his jokes, but on the very next date, their true colors emerged. The smile was a little tighter, the questions a little more personal, and he could almost feel their fingers reaching into his bank account to spend his money. He didn’t want a woman like that.

  Drew took one final deep breath, plastered his fake smile on, and opened the door. The room held ten round tables focused on a podium at the front. Most of the tables were already full. He glanced around for a waiter or a bar but found neither. Drew wasn’t much of a drinker, but nights like this he needed one.

  His discomfort grew when he heard the shrill voice of his mother beckoning him from across the room. “Drew, over here, darling.” She waved at him from across the room. At nearly sixty, his mother was still in great shape. Of course, she paid good money to have a cook and a personal trainer, but he wished she wouldn’t draw such attention to herself or him.

  Shaking his head, he made his way across the floor to her table. He gave her the obligatory peck on each cheek before addressing her. “Mother, I wish you wouldn’t yell like that across the room. I abhor these things as it is, but I especially detest when you make a scene.”

  His mother folded her arms and leaned back as she regarded him. “I brought you into this world, Drew Devonshire. Need I remind you of my twelve-hour labor?”

  Drew rolled his eyes. This was always the card she played when he brought up anything she disagreed with. As if he controlled how long she was in labor. “No, you needn’t, but, Mother, really. I would have made my way over to you, eventually.”

  “Perhaps,” she said, tilting her head, “but I needed you here sooner rather than later.”

  His heart sank as her eyes twinkled. “Oh, no, Mother, what did you do?” He knew that look in her eye, and he rarely liked it.

  She held out her thin, perfectly manicured hands. “I did nothing. I happened to meet a lovely woman earlier. She’s new to these charity events, but it turns out she has a daughter just about your age.”

  Drew groaned. “Tell me you didn’t.” His mother was always setting him up with one wealthy debutante after another even though he’d told her they were too vanilla, too boring for him.

  “Relax, I just said they should sit with us. The rest is up to you. Oh, here they are now. Camilla, over here, darling.” Her arm waved in the air again and Drew stifled his sigh. This was what he hated more than the stuffy event itself, this awkward moment when he met someone his mother was clearly trying to set him up with and had to play nice, no matter what she looked like or what strange habits she had.

  The last time his mother had done this, the woman had been obsessed with her weight. Even though she had been tiny, she had tugged on Drew’s arm every few minutes asking how many calories were in that canape or would that drink cause her hips to grow? He couldn’t get away from her fast enough.

  The time before that, the woman had seemed normal enough at first. Then, she had proceeded to pull a tiny compact out of her bag to check her appearance. Not unordinary for women, but the compact had then disappeared and reappeared ten times in the span of five minutes. Who needed to look at themselves that often? Needless to say, Drew was not a fan of these set ups, so he was pleasantly surprised when he turned around.

  “Avery?” Though he hadn’t seen her in years, he was sure it was Avery. This woman was small and petite with her brown hair piled on her head. Her silver gown hugged her frame, and her blue eyes sparkled.

  “Drew?” There was a hint of laughter in her voice as she answered.

  His mother blinked in confusion. “You two know each other?”

  Drew chuckled. He and Avery had dated a few years ago. She was one of the few wealthy women he had met who held his interest, but before they grew serious, she had moved away. “Yes, we know each other. You look beautiful, Avery.”

  “You clean up pretty nice yourself,” she said as she placed her hands on her hips and looked him up and down.

  “Well, I guess there’s no need to introduce the two of you.” His mother turned her attention to Avery’s mother. “Camilla, I’m so glad you could make it. This is my son Drew.”

  Camilla was an older version of her daughter. Grey streaks ran through her hair and the lines around her eyes were more pronounced, but she appeared to take good care of herself. “Pleased to meet you, Drew,” she said as she extended her hand to him. “Though I’m surprised I haven’t met you before if you know Avery.”

  Drew took the woman’s hand. Soft, but slightly leathery. “A pleasure to meet you as well.” His eyes shifted to Avery. “Well, Avery and I knew each other a few years ago, but then she moved away. Are you back now?”

  Avery returned the smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Yes, apparently I am.” There was a sadness in her voice that he didn’t remember. What had happened to her? When her mother looked away though, Drew caught Avery’s eye roll and bit back a smile. Maybe this evening wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  * * *

  “It’s showtime, ladies,” Martin said. “I’ll stay back here and get the plates ready as you two serve.”

  Rachel rolled her eyes, but Gwen spoke up. “Sure, Martin, that sounds good.” She picked up two plates and headed for the swinging door that connected the kitchen to the hall. The tables were now full, and a dull hum of conversation filled the air.

  Gwen fixed a smile on her face as she approached the first table. Interacting with the guests was her least favorite part of catering, but it came with the territory. At least at events like this, the men and women rarely spoke to her. They were too engaged in their own conversations and conversing with “the help” was beneath them.

  She placed a plate in front of the first woman who didn’t even bother to look her direction and then one in front of the man next to her. He flicked her a passing glance, but that was all. Gwen returned to the kitchen and grabbed two more plates.

  Rachel had taken the other half of the room. Five tables apiece was still a lot, but it was manageable. Gwen placed the next two plates down and returned to the kitchen one more time. She repeated this procedure until only one table remained. As she approached the final table though her eyes widened. No, it couldn’t be.

  Only two men sat at this table. One was an elderly gentleman with a round face and a receding hairline. The other was a dashing young man with dark hair and blue eyes. He looked remarkably like Drew Devonshire. It was true she had only glimpsed his face that night when he lifted his mask, but those blue eyes were seared in her memory. Her heart sped up in her chest.

  Unfortunately, he wasn’t alone. A stunning brunette sat to his right, and from the smile on her face, she appeared as smitten as Gwen felt. She looked around for Rachel. Was it too late to trade tables? She wasn’t sure she could work this one all night. What if he recognized her? Or maybe worse, what if he didn’t?

  Rachel was just placing a plate down at her final table. Too late to switch now. Gwen would just have to hope he ignored her like the others had or that he wouldn’t recognize her without the mask. She kept her head turned slightly away from him as she placed her two plates and then made a beeline for the kitchen.

  Her face felt flushed as she exited the hall and entered the kitchen. She needed to cool down. If she went back out with a bright red face, she would just draw more attention to herself. Gwen closed her eyes and leaned aga
inst the wall trying to calm her heart down.

  “Grab a tray and take the last three,” Martin ordered when he spotted her. “I’m about ready to start sending out the next course.”

  Gwen wanted to say no, to come up with some excuse, but she needed this job. She took a deep breath and grabbed the tray. Hoping her face had calmed down, Gwen headed back into the hall. Please don’t look at me. Please don’t look at me. The mantra played over and over in her head as she approached his table.

  She placed the plate in front of the older woman first and then turned to Drew. Thankfully, his face was turned toward his brunette friend. She scooted his plate in front of him and then delivered the plate to the brunette. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. How could they not hear it? Drew’s eyes lifted to hers, and Gwen sucked in her breath.

  “Thank you,” he said and then turned back to his friend.

  “You’re welcome,” Gwen stuttered. She was too shocked to say anything else. He hadn’t recognized her. She should be happy, but disbelief was all she could feel right now.

  With a sigh, she headed back to the kitchen. One course down and only two more to go.

  Chapter 6

  Drew raised his hand to cover his mouth as the second yawn struck him. He’d managed to stifle the first, but the second had snuck up on him.

  “Are you as bored as I am?” Avery asked as she leaned in close to him.

  “Maybe more.” He smiled at her. She was the first wealthy woman he’d met who seemed to hate these events as much as he did. It was one reason they had tried dating years ago. He glanced at his watch. They still had another few hours. They had served the first course along with the main course, but dessert remained, and bidding would probably start during dessert.