“These potatoes should be done soon,” Irene said, jabbing one of the baby reds with a fork. “I’ve got to hand it to you girls. You two sure know how to throw together one hellacious meal. Everything smells divine.”
Monique colored and gave a polite smile. “Thank you. It was a lot of work, but it should go over well.”
“Should?” she exclaimed with no small measure of disbelief. “No offense, honey, but you two are working yourselves to death for no reason. Most men are more than happy to sit down to a warm slab of meat and a hunk of potatoes after a long day.”
The blonde gave an embarrassed shrug. Taylor wiped her hands on the dishtowel slung over her shoulder and scraped the chunked lobster meat into the pot.
“That’s true, and Seb is usually pretty easy to please, but he’s bringing his boss home tonight. It doesn’t hurt to take a few extra steps to impress the man.”
She could almost see the wheels churning. Irene placed the lid back on the potatoes with the beginnings of a coy smile playing on her lips. “This guy must be a pretty big deal to warrant such a fancy meal.”
“He is a very important man, yes,” Monique said. “But it is also a dinner party. A certain amount of finesse is expected.”
“Well aren’t we all hoity toity?”
Monique’s lips flattened into a grim press. A brief spark of hurt and anger flared in her bright green eyes and her back straightened as she turned back to the desserts.
“Irene…” Taylor said, her voice laced with reproach.
The redhead’s bracelets clanged together as she gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “I was just playing. Listen, I didn’t mean any offense, doll. It was just my way of admitting I’m a little out of place. I don’t get all of this high-end, proper dinner party stuff but I wish I did. My idea of a good time is kicking back with a cold beer, a pizza, and laughing with a group of friends. Can you forgive me?”
Monique’s expression softened and she turned around with a gentle smile. “Of course I can, Irene. There’s nothing to forgive. Honestly, that sounds like a great time to me.”
“Well, hell. I’m glad that’s settled,” she said, scooping them both together for a brief hug. “We’ll all have to get together and do it sometime then.”
“I’d like that.”
Taylor tensed and pulled back at the quiet whir of the garage door. Heart hammering, her eyes darted to Monique’s in a moment of shared panic. Glancing at the clock, she winced. They were home over half an hour early.
“Hark, the cavalry has arrived,” Irene teased.
Cursing, Taylor spun and fumbled to get the blender ready to finish the bisque. Monique jerked the pot of potatoes from the stove as Irene scrambled to get out of the way.
“Jesus! What’s the rush?”
“You don’t understand. Why?” Monique whimpered, in a quiet plea. “Why is this happening?”
“Shh now, honey. Everything is going to be okay. What can I do to help?”
“Finish setting the table…please,” Taylor ordered. “And light the center pieces. There’s a candle lighter in the buffet drawer.”
“On it, sugar.”
Blowing out a deep breath, she smoothed her simple black dress and raked her fingers through her hair. There wasn’t enough time to brush it again, let alone sweep it up into a polished coif like Monique’s. She was just going to have to make do with what she had. Snagging her lip between her teeth, she yanked a pen from the drawer beside the refrigerator and speared it through her hair in a quick twist. Monique nodded in approval and tugged a few wisps free.
“You look beautiful, Tay.”
Her face scrunched as she cast a worried look toward the laundry room door. “I highly doubt that, but it will have to do for now.”
She wavered between finishing dinner and going to greet the men. Deciding food was the safest bet when they had guests, she finished blending while Monique whipped the potatoes. A cold chill raced down her spine as Sebastian approached and Marx’s broad shadow fell across the room. The commander had a certain way about him, an unspoken demeanor capable of casting even the brightest of things into darkness. Switching things off, she greeted Sebastian with a welcoming smile. He didn’t return the gesture, but his eyes were soft and questioning as he fingered the pen stuck through her hair.
“Everything is almost done,” she promised.
The comment earned her a stiff nod. Forcing herself to breathe, Taylor turned her attention to the other men.
“Hello, Marx, sir. Josh, it’s nice to see you both again.” She glanced at the young man who’d accompanied them in question, but no introduction was forthcoming.
Following Sebastian’s lead, Josh offered little more than a tip of his chin, his gaze roaming over Monique until a fearful tremble wracked the blonde’s slender fame. The inexplicable urge to cringe crept over her. Tamping down a shiver of her own, Taylor turned to find herself trapped beneath Marx’s brooding stare. Darting her tongue out to wet her lips, she struggled to find her voice.
“Can I get you gentlemen something to drink?”
“I’ll do that, Tay, baby. You just round these handsome boys into the other room and get them fed.”
Sebastian’s whipped around at the sound of Irene’s voice. He instantly stiffened, large fists balling at his sides. The muscles along his jaw bulged in a savage clench, and Taylor took an uncertain step back as his head swung in her direction. If she could have crawled into a hole and died at that moment, she would have. A dark stain of displeasure infused his cheeks as his glare drilled into her, demanding answers.
Taking a steadying breath, she fought to keep the tremble out of her voice. “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary Irene. You’ve done more than enough. Thank you visiting and for all of your help today, but I know you have to get going.”
“Is this woman a friend of yours, Miss McAvay?” Marx asked. A hint of amusement rode his broad face as his eyes raked over Irene’s flashy ensemble.
“Yes, sir,” she mumbled. “Irene and I used to work together at the diner. She was just leaving.”
“Nonsense,” he interjected. “I know a dismissal when I hear one. Let the woman stay. I am curious to see what kind of company you keep.”
Her stomach knotted, knowing this wasn’t good. Wringing her hands, she lifted her imploring gaze to Sebastian. The angered flush had eased, but his expression remained stern and as unyielding as stone.
“I asked Taylor to put together a meal for six, not seven,” he stated flatly.
“I am going to give the girl the benefit of the doubt and assume she has enough common sense to plan an appropriate meal. Consider the matter closed and somebody grab me a damn scotch already.”
The imposing boom of his voice brooked for no argument. Still, she found herself looking to Sebastian for direction. He indicated toward the cupboard with a sharp jerk of his head. Ignoring the desperate apologies in her eyes, he strode out of the kitchen. The hushed rasp of his voice and the soft murmur of Monique’s drifted from the other room.
Sighing, Taylor poured the drinks. She glanced over as someone started to set them on the carrying tray. Empathy and embarrassment shone in the smoky grey eyes peering down at her.
“Hi. I’m Jackson,” the young man said, holding out his hand.
She stared at it for a second, unsure of what to do. Deciding it was better not to be rude, she gave his hand a brief shake. “Taylor.”
“I gathered,” he said with a wink. “Sorry. Apparently being the low man on the totem pole means no one bothers with introductions.”
“That’s okay. I’m not even sure I warrant them.”
“I wouldn’t say that. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Hey! Newbie! Stop putting the moves on Baas’ woman.”
Taylor glanced up as Josh shouldered the younger man out of the way and administered a hard shove.
His warm caramel skin paled. “I—I wasn’t, sir. I was just introducing myself.”
“Yeah, well knock it off before you get yourself hurt,” Josh snapped. “Go sit your ass down. Better yet, go occupy the succubus in the other room before she puts the moves on Marx. That woman’s had more balls in her mouth than a Hungry, Hungry Hippo. The last thing we need is her trying to slurp his set down.”
She blanched as Jackson fled and Josh turned his steady blue gaze on her.
“This is not good, Tay.”
“I know. She was supposed to be out of here, but you guys showed up early.”
“Sebastian hates that woman. The only reason he puts up with her is because she’s your friend and even then, her shit doesn’t fly. Don’t give Baas a reason to go off tonight. I’m letting you know right now, Marx has been riding his ass all week and his finger is already on that trigger. You get my drift?”
Forcing a hard swallow, she nodded. “Yes, Josh. I get it.”