Page 63 of A Billionaire for Christmas
‘Why not ring his doctor? Or better still just ask him. Tell him you’re worried about him.’
‘Doctor? Why would Armand admit to the doctor he was having an affair?’ Valerie pursed her lips. ‘Unless you mean to see if he’s asked for a Viagra prescription? No. I’m not embarrassing myself. I’d much rather you stole his phone and I can check through his messages for evidence.’
Affair?
‘I’m sure he’s not having an affair. I thought you meant… I can’t possibly…’
‘Do this and I’ll give you the contract to cater the wedding,’ Valerie blurted. ‘All five days. It’ll be worth a fortune, and that little restaurant business of yours will feature in every magazine around the globe.’ Valerie spun round and walked quickly away.
Molly watched her go. Who wore high-heeled, backless sandals and gold lamé in the house? Molly didn’t know whether to despair more at the fact that once again she was unable to finish a sentence, or whether Valerie just assumed Molly would break the law for the sake of money. No matter how tempting the offer was, she wouldn’t do it. Molly let out a slow breath. Maybe Lucca was right. Valerie had lost the plot.
‘What was that about?’
Molly jumped a mile.
Levi stood with his hands in his pockets. He was wearing a loose-fitting shirt and tailored trousers as though for a meeting. Molly was relieved that he seemed a little less imposing than yesterday.
‘Oh, nothing.’Just your mother bribing me to break the law.
‘Didn’t look like nothing.’
Cripes.
Molly felt her chest burning at the thought of even attempting to lie to him. A prickly heat shot up her neck to her cheeks. ‘She just wanted me to get something for her.’
‘What?’
Molly swallowed. ‘She needs help with a technical issue.’
‘What technical issue?’
‘Not technical, a culinary issue. For the wedding.’ Molly put a hand to her chest. ‘That’s right. She is having issues with the wedding.’
‘Why is your neck red?’
Molly immediately slid a hand to her throat to hide the prickly rash. ‘No reason.’
Levi looked at her bulging apron. ‘Bit early for that, isn’t it?’
‘This?’ She yanked the vodka bottle from her apron. ‘This is, erm, for the amuse-bouche tonight. I’m not stealing it. Or drinking it.’
‘And you just happened to take it into the pantry with you?’
‘Yes.’ She placed it on the nearest shelf.
‘It looks almost empty. How much have you put in each one?’
‘Each what?’
‘Each appetiser.’
It was like having a conversation with Sherlock Holmes.
‘When it comes to pairing alcohol and food items…’Dear God, help me.‘The food items, the appetisers, I’m preparing… For you and your family members. You enjoy alcohol a lot. So I’m soaking things in it.’
It was as though Molly had forgotten how to be a chef. How to be human.
Levi frowned. ‘Hardly appropriate. Where are they? Let me taste one.’
