Page 37 of A Billionaire for Christmas

IF YOU WANT TO BE TRUSTED, BE HONEST

It was while Molly was scrubbing the charred remains of an unidentifiable lump from a baking tray, while trying to rid the place of an acrid, burning smell, at the same time as prepping individual lunches for the entire household, that she realised this was a family keeping secrets.

Someone had obviously been trying to cook.

She found an almost empty vodka bottle hidden at the back of the pantry among the dried pasta and bags of rice.

No prizes for guessing who might be responsible for that , Molly thought to herself.

As she was wondering whether to confiscate it or put it back, she heard someone approaching and hastily shoved it in her large apron pocket before swivelling round to find Valerie in the doorway sniffing the pungent air with an unimpressed frown.

‘Busy?’ Valerie said, eyeing the bulge in her pocket. She frowned, waiting for an explanation.

She would have to wait for a long time.

‘Yes. I am busy. I have lots of meals to plan and prepare. Is there something you wanted?’ Molly tried to squeeze past her, but Valerie blocked her path.

‘Do you have a new allergy to inform me of, Madame LeRoux?’ Because Molly was certain that Valerie would have to start inventing new ones, seeing as though she’d exhausted the current Food Standards Agency official list.

Valerie checked behind both of her shoulders. ‘You’re probably wondering why I came to your rescue earlier.’

Molly frowned. ‘Did you? It sounded like you were accusing me of a crime I didn’t commit and then expecting me to be grateful not to pay for it.’

Valerie tutted. ‘Don’t be silly. Of course it was you. Now listen,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I need you to repay the favour. I need you to do something for me. Something very sensitive.’

Molly did not trust herself to respond.

‘I need your help accessing a phone. I’m not sure how to get into it without a password. It’s locked me out.’

‘And how can I help with that?’

‘You’re young. You young people know how to get into phones. You live your whole lives with them glued to your hands.’

‘I can try for you.’ Molly had always prided herself on being helpful. Why stop now just because she had a bossy, mad woman in front of her asking for the impossible? ‘Where is it?’

Valerie checked over her shoulders once more before explaining to Molly that the phone she was locked out of actually belonged to her husband, Armand. ‘And I need you to get it for me.’

Molly couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. ‘Let me get this straight. You want me to steal your husband’s?—’

‘Shhh. Keep your voice down,’ hissed Valerie.

‘You want me to steal Monsieur LeRoux’s phone, hack into it and then hand it over to you?’ whispered Molly.

‘Yes.’ Valerie nodded vigorously. ‘And then put it back before he notices it’s gone.’

‘And if I get caught?’

Valerie looked at her blankly. ‘Don’t get caught.’

‘And if I refuse?’

‘Why would you refuse?’

‘Why wouldn’t I refuse? You’re asking me to break the law for no reason.’

A troubled expression covered Valerie’s face. ‘I’m worried about him. He’s not telling me something.’

Molly’s mind flew back to Armand and how ill he had seemed and how guarded he was over her question about medication. ‘I’m sure if you ask him about it, he’ll tell you.’

Valerie scoffed. ‘You have no idea how deceptive and cunning French men can be. It’s in their nature to keep secrets from their wives.’

Oh.

‘But unfortunately for him, unlike French women, I do not turn a blind eye. I’m American. We are proud, outspoken and honest. That is what makes America so great .’

The irony that Valerie was whispering to her in a cupboard, out of sight, asking her to steal her husband’s phone, was not lost on Molly.

‘There must be another way. Have you checked his drawers and cupboards?’

There was a good chance Valerie would find his medication and Armand would have to come clean.

‘That would be too suspicious. I haven’t tidied his clothes for more than a decade.

No, it has to be you. I will distract him from the online golf while you pretend to clean our room.

Actually, do clean the room. And turn down the beds while you’re at it.

Hospital corners, obviously. And change the towels. Then bring the phone to me.’

Why not shove a broom up my backside while I’m at it?

‘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.’

Molly felt a stab of anxiety. She gathered her long hair in one hand and piled it on top of her head, securing it with a band to give herself a minute to think up an excuse.

Under his forensic scowl, she picked up the bottle, pretended to inspect the label and put it back in her pocket.

She felt a light film of sweat form on her upper lip.

‘They’re in the freezer. You can’t.’

‘Show me.’

For fuck’s sake.

‘Haven’t you got better things to do than harass innocent chefs?’

‘No. And you’re hardly innocent.’

Molly blushed down to her toes.

Levi looked taken aback. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean like that. I meant… it doesn’t matter what I meant. Carry on with whatever you’re doing.’

‘Wait.’ For some indescribable reason she just wanted to be near him. To talk to him. To interact with him. Even in this almost unbearable exchange. With her heart beating double time, Molly reached out. ‘There are a few things I need to mention. A few concerns.’

Levi raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re concerned? How do you think I feel?’

They were interrupted by the distinctive click-clacking of Valerie’s heels returning on the slate floor of the kitchen.

‘Molly, he’s in the shower. Do it now before—’ Valerie almost screeched to a halt.

‘Angelo, darling, there you are. I need you. It’s this wedding.

I’m thinking white Mustang horses sprayed gold and vintage gilded carriages, but Freda is insisting it’s old hat and animal cruelty. Come and talk sense into her.’

Valerie, with eyes bulging, gave Molly a hard stare. ‘Leave Molly to get on. She has much to do. Important things to take care of, don’t you?’ She was all but shooing her away. ‘Off you go. Hurry.’

Molly’s jaw dropped at the dismissive fashion in which Valerie was wafting her away, like a fly hovering around food.

Levi’s mouth tightened at his mother’s gesture. He gave Molly an apologetic look before turning his attention back to Valerie.

‘Actually, Mother, Molly and I were in the middle of something. Can this wait?’

You’d think Levi had informed her that he and Molly were expecting triplets.

But instead of getting the hump with her precious son, Valerie glared at Molly as though this was all somehow her fault.

She narrowed her eyes, dropping them to the bulge in her pocket, before spinning swiftly on her heel and click-clacking away again.

Levi let out a slow breath and ran his hand through his hair. ‘What’s going on?’

Molly bit her lip, wondering how to tell him his uptight mother was batshit crazy with the morals of a snake. She wiped the back of her hand across her brow. Living with this family was becoming increasingly stressful. How were they creating problems at such speed? It was like living in crazy town.