“I know,” she mouthed without sound, and Breck felt like he could hear her heart breaking in the silence.
He wasn’t sure how long they might have stood there, insisting that Darla had to go, if it hadn’t been for someone whistling outside the back door of the kitchen. They each took a step back and waited in fear as the whistler passed by without pausing.
Darla released her held breath in a rush. “Tomorrow morning?” she asked longingly.
“I’ll be here,” Breck promised.
Then she was gone, and the kitchen was achingly empty again.
“I’ll be here,” Breck repeated helplessly to himself.
Chapter 19
Darla didn’t realize she was still wearing the apron that Breck had so carefully tied onto her until she was creeping into the back door of her cottage
. She tore it off with frantic fingers as she heard her mother stirring in the next room, and threw it under the pillow.
No, what if housekeeping found it, Darla thought in a panic, casting an eye around the room. Her luggage wasn’t particularly safe from her prying mother, and she couldn’t think where she might put it that wouldn’t be tidied by the staff later. Finally, as her mother tapped on the door, she wadded it up as small as she could manage and stuffed it into her Gucci handbag.
Did it bulge suspiciously? There was no time to reconsider.
“You’re dressed early,” her mother said, sounding grouchy as Darla let her in.
“The sun wakes me up,” Darla fibbed. “I’m not used to it.”
“I should complain about the curtains,” Jubilee said, twitching them open. “You’d think as much money as we’re paying, they could afford better light-blocking fabric. You’d also think they would put coffee machines in each house. I’m going to the restaurant to get a decent cup as soon as they open.”
She turned to give Darla an appraising look. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us,” she said. “I want to go over the seating for the rehearsal dinner, and talk about the menu with their chef. The food so far has been decent, at least.”
Remembering the breakfasts that Breck has served her rather than the meals in the restaurant, Darla agreed wholeheartedly and followed her mother. At the last moment, she grabbed her purse, and the ridiculously large designer sunhat that was supposed to keep her from freckling.
Chef himself came out to spread napkins in their laps and take their breakfast requests, something that pleased Jubilee, who loved to be waited on by the most important people.
“A one-egg vegetarian omelet with sliced avocado and cilantro,” she decided imperiously. “Cooked in truffle oil, not any nasty canola or corn. And some of that fresh bread I smell.”
Darla squirmed, and Chef carefully did not glance at her. “I’m afraid the bread is still baking,” he apologized. “We… had a late start this morning.”
Jubilee frowned, but Darla put her own order in before she could fuss about it. “Just a grapefruit for me,” she said graciously. “And a cup of coffee.”
“Of course,” Chef said politely. “And a loaf of bread will be brought just as soon as it’s ready, fresh from the oven.”
“It’s good that you eat lightly,” Jubilee said with a critical look at Darla after Chef had gone. “I should have had you working with my personal trainer more before we left home. You’re looking almost plump.”
“The dresses fit,” Darla reminded her. “And there’s a limit to how much weight I can lose in three days.”
Jubilee sighed. “Yes, I suppose we have what we have now.” There was no doubting from her tone that what she had was a great disappointment.
Darla’s grapefruit was served with their coffees, and there was a little carrot rose in the garnish on the plate that made Darla’s heart flip-flop in her chest. Her bracelet felt hot, and Darla put it in her lap under her napkin before it could start glowing and betray her.
Jubilee caught Chef when he returned with her omelet, and grilled him about the wedding menu as she ate, oblivious to the other people who came into the restaurant and were seated. Food continued to be served, so presumably, his staff was making do without him.
Breck, Darla thought. Breck was probably in there helping to make the food. She fingered the carved carrot.
“And no iceberg lettuce in the salads,” Jubilee said commandingly. “It’s so cheap. Right Darla?”
“Of course, mother,” Darla said faintly.
She was glad that her mother had irrationally banned Breck from serving. Even just knowing he was close, looking at the rose he had carved, she wanted to squirm in her seat. He’d almost touched her in the kitchen, almost gathered her up in his arms when she splashed him, and she had wanted it so badly.