Page 9 of The Rented Bride

Cassie held up two fingers and crossed them. “Here’s hoping nothing else goes wrong.”

Meg grinned. “What could possibly go wrong?”

Cassie ended the third call she’d made to PK Wait Staff in the last half hour and set her phone on the desk in her small office. She was out of time. Guests had begun to arrive. At least all was not lost. Meg had come through with the additional help. Two women who worked in housekeeping would help with serving. They were young, pretty and well-coordinated. And although not his usual task, a man named Sam who worked under Henry would step up as wait staff. He’d be a little late. As parking valet, he’d only be able to assist with serving after the initial rush of arrivals slowed. Cassie felt confident they could handle the party, but she wanted like hell to get Brenda Denton on the phone and give the woman a piece of her mind.

A shadow fell across her desk and she looked over her shoulder. The delivery guy who had helped put away the fish yesterday stood in the doorway. What was this guy doing here—and wearing black dress slacks, a white starched shirt, and bow tie?

Duh! This must be Sam who worked under Henry. Sheesh, he cleaned up good, damn good—gorgeous good. He’d shaved—that was almost a shame—and the formal clothes fit him to perfection.

She rose and faced him. “You should have told me you didn’t work for Calhoun.”

Amusement appeared in his eyes. “If you recall I did tell you that wasn’t my job.”

“Oh, well, thanks for helping out.” Cassie started toward him. “You’re just in time.”

Surprise flickered in his eyes. “I am?” His deep voice caught her off guard. Not just his deep voice, she realized, the sensual note. Sensual note? Was she nuts? Was he flirting with her? She was having none of that.

‘Your earring.” He pointed at her left ear.

“What?” Cassie touched her ear.

“Hold up, the stud is about to fall out.”

Cassie froze when he took a step toward her. His fingers, warm and firm, gently grasped her ear lobe. A fission of awareness zipped down her back and she was relieved when he seemed not to notice. His eyes remained fastened on her ear as he gently pressed the diamond stud more firmly into the backing. She’d put her hair in a soft chignon that rested on the back of her neck, exposing the flesh, and she was sure she could feel his warm breath on her skin. If anyone saw them—

His hands fell away and he stepped back into the doorway. “You might want to have that checked by a jeweler. The backing should fit more snugly. A Teresa Merced, if I’m not mistaken. It would be a shame to lose such a beautiful stud.”

He was right. But what did a valet/waiter know about fine jewelry?

“You okay?” he asked.

Cassie broke from her thoughts. “Yes. Guests have begun to arrive. Are you ready?”

He glanced down at his attire. “Just about.”

“You look great. Perfect, in fact. Come on, I have canapés that need to be served.” Dinner wouldn’t be served for another hour. Drinks and hors d’œuvres would keep the quests nibbling and socializing until then.

Cassie motioned past him. “I need you this way.” Instead of stepping out of the doorway, he turned his large frame sideways and she caught the faint scent of cologne, spicy with a hint of musk, as she brushed past.

“Are you coming?” she called without looking back.

She reached the end of the short hallway and turned left, away from the bustling kitchen, then made another left into a small room. Half a dozen oblong stainless steel stations were laden with various hors d’œuvres on silver trays. Cassie did a quick calculation and picked up a tray of salmon and cucumber twists. She turned to find Sam standing behind her. Cassie rocked backwards. The tray tipped precariously and for a horrible instant she thought she and the tray were going to crash to the floor. But Sam seized her with one hand, and the edge of the tray with the other, and steadied them both. His large hand was strong on her waist, exerting just enough pressure to make her tummy flutter.

Cassie froze for an uncertain instant, then took a step away from him. His grip loosened and his fingers grazed her hip as she moved out of his reach. “Thanks,” she said. “But you might consider not standing so close next time.”

He didn’t reply, and she realized they were both still holding the tray. She extended the tray toward him and he took it.

Cassie pointed to the door to their left. “Out that door and to your left.”

“My apologies,” he said, and she wondered if he mocked her.

Tray balanced in his right hand, he strode to the door. He pushed through the swinging door and she glimpsed his expert lift of the tray to shoulder level.

Cassie released a sigh. The stress of the party had her nerves thrumming. No way would she let a server as hot as the spice in her cayenne cheese canapés, smelling like sex and seduction, drive her to distraction. That’s how Teri Gallagher got herself fired. Cassie understood the allure. Ace was six-foot-one, all masculine muscle and energy. But damn, she knew Sam had been staring at her ass as she preceded him. She’d tripped over her own feet and nearly fallen with a tray of hors d'oeuvres. Was this a test? Did Mr. Weston set up all his employees to fall from grace?

***

Trent skirted the wall and took four steps toward the open bar.