Page 67 of A Billionaire for Christmas
Armand flinched, as though he had seen a ghost. He grabbed Molly’s arm as he dabbed his brow. ‘Don’t tell a single soul.’ He marched off back to his room yelling, ‘Can someone sort this bloody Wi-Fi out? I’m in the middle of a game!’
* * *
By the time Molly had dumped the bottles round the back of the lodge by the bins, made up all the beds, except in Levi’s room, and Freda’s who she overheard weeping, and tidied everyone’s lunch dishes away, it was almost time to prep for the special parents’ dinner. Lucca walked into the kitchen area looking ready to help. ‘Something smells divine.’
Molly tossed him an apron. ‘I wondered when you’d turn up. There’s still quite a lot to do. It’ll take all afternoon to prepare for the degustation tonight. I’ve managed to find out a few things from your father but there’s a lot more I need to know about them for the plan to work.’
‘We’ve got no chance of getting Levi to give us a hand.’ Lucca tied the apron strings loosely round his waist. ‘He’s working.’
All Molly could do was blush at the sound of his name. They had so much unfinished business.
‘He likes you, by the way.’ Lucca beamed kindly. ‘I can tell.’
If only that were true.
‘I think you’ll find he hates me at the moment.’
‘What do they say? There’s a fine line between love and hate. Besides, no one else gets away with talking to him like you do. You seem to be immune to his grouchiness. Whereas it’s like a red flag to a bull for me.’
Molly cleared her throat. ‘Anyway, where’s Freda? Didn’t she say that she’d help too?’
Lucca looked out of the window. ‘Maybe she went skiing with Toby. Or knowing those two, they’ll be in the wine cellar.’
At the mention of Toby’s name, Molly bit down an angry comment. He had hung her out to dry earlier and hadn’t yet come to apologise. Something must have shown on her face because Lucca hesitated before changing the subject abruptly. ‘Or the spa. Who knows where she is?’
‘I’m here,’ said a rough-looking Freda, dark circles under her eyes. ‘I went back to sleep for your information, my nosy brother.’
‘Until two in the afternoon?’ Lucca asked.
‘We’re on holiday. In the middle of a series of storms. With dodgy Wi-Fi.’ Freda rubbed both hands up and down her face. Her skin looked grey, her eyes dull and her hair matted. ‘Sleeping is pretty much all there is to do here.’
Sleeping and drinking through a broken heart.Molly sympathised.
Molly threw her a spare apron. ‘Please tie your hair up. Wash your hands thoroughly. And then we’ll get started preparing the rest of the degustation for your parents. I need to know all their favourite dishes.’ She went straight to the blender and whizzed up a mix of salty and sweet ingredients, greens and fruit. ‘Drink this.’ She handed Freda a glass of green sludge. ‘It’s full of electrolytes. It’ll give you a boost.’
Freda accepted the hangover drink with a guilty grace.
‘Now, the plan is to tell a story across all ten courses. Starting with when your parents first met. We’ll match the food to the questions in the game. Let’s get planning.’
Lucca and Freda did exactly as they were told and before long, several dishes were being meticulously assembled. Molly had shown them how to poach, blanch, baste, sauté, reduce, infuse, ferment and pickle under her strict guidance.
‘It’s like watching someone perform open-heart surgery,’ commented Lucca. ‘You should open your own school.’
Molly invited them both to taste examples of each one. ‘With tasting menus, the secret is to kind of roll the food around your mouth. Savour each unique aroma. Appreciate the balance of flavours on your palate. Give your brain a chance to explore each sensation, each texture.’
‘This looks and tastes incredible,’ commented Lucca, picking up a delicate multi-coloured roll, infused with mint and bergamot oil. ‘You have such skill. It’s a veritable feast for the eyes. No wonder people are clamouring to secure your services.’
Molly blushed and shrugged off the compliment. ‘We’ll do the hot courses as we serve later, but we still need wines to go with each one. Any ideas?’
Lucca grinned. ‘Leave it to me. I’m a trained sommelier. One of my many talents.’
‘One of hisonlytalents. Unless you call international playboy a talent?’ Freda said, throwing an olive at him. ‘You literally just go from party to party across the globe.’
‘I run a wine company. We cater big events. How is that being a playboy?’ Lucca winked at Molly. ‘Although it is a lot of fun. At least I have a job.’ He threw an olive back at Freda.
‘Wait. You knew that the wine last night was…’ Molly couldn’t believe the audacity.
‘I’m afraid so, yes.’ Lucca did not look even slightly embarrassed. ‘And I have to say, it wasn’t all that, was it?’
