Page 51 of Bad for Business (Pembroke Hills #2)

I forgot how much I despised cooking for Laurent Hughes. When he asked me at the last minute to work the private dinner party he was hosting tonight, my first thought was to say no. I needed the money—desperately—but I knew preparing a meal for him would come with many challenges.

The main one being he might be the biggest douche in the Hamptons. Which is really saying something because this place is filled with pretentious assholes.

“When will the food be done?” Laurent comes stomping into his kitchen, his angry voice booming against the walls.

I take a deep breath and plaster on a smile, internally scolding myself for agreeing to be his chef tonight.

“The main course will be done at the time I told you it would be. I will have the food ready for the staff to bring out at eight.” My words come out rather tight, but they’re still polite.

It’s all I can muster when dealing with a man like him.

He lets out a disgruntled sigh.

My smile remains stiff as I wipe my hands off on my apron and give him my full attention. I try to blow a piece of my long brown hair out of my face, but it does nothing. The stray piece falling over my eye annoys me almost as much as Laurent. “Has your party finished the prepared appetizers?”

Laurent shakes his head. “No. The guests are still eating.”

I blink, at a loss about how to respond.

I still have thirty minutes to get the main course ready to serve to his guests.

I told him when he asked me yesterday that eight in the evening was the earliest I’d be able to serve the main course.

I needed time this morning to hit the farm stands to pick up groceries and prep for the six-course meal he’d insisted on for the evening.

I bite my tongue, wanting to ask him if the four courses that I’d already served weren’t enough.

Luckily, Laurent decides pestering me about the food isn’t worth his time anymore. He turns on his heel and disappears from the kitchen, his heavy footsteps making it clear he’s aggravated with me.

The moment he’s gone, I let out a sigh of relief.

The meal is almost over, and I’ve done my best to clean up after myself tonight.

Hopefully, I won’t have to stay long after dessert is served.

The paycheck for the night will be great, but no matter how badly I need the money for me and my family, I make a promise to myself to never agree to work for the Hughes family again.

With Laurent gone, I’m able to return to finishing up the main course for the evening. He demanded the protein be lamb chops and that I serve it with some sort of potato dish and a salad.

I carefully place the lamb chops on a serving dish, garnishing the top with a sprig of rosemary.

I kept the rest simple by roasting the potatoes and garnishing them with freshly grated parmesan and more rosemary.

The lamb chops with the balsamic reduction sauce I made were supposed to be the star of the show.

I wanted the sides to enhance the dish but not take away from the protein.

After plating the lamb chops, I work on finishing the salad. I stopped at my favorite farm stand this morning to pick up fresh tomatoes for the occasion. I was able to grab a few different varieties to make a beautiful tomato salad I hope everyone enjoys.

I continue to get everything ready for the meal. Soon, Laurent’s staff will be back to grab all the food, and I want to make sure everything is perfect before they do so. Even though I regret saying yes to Laurent, I still want to give him and his guests a main course that wows them all.

I’ve been too busy preparing each course to greet anyone attending the dinner party, but Laurent is highly connected. There’s always the chance that someone here could enjoy my food and decide to book me for their own private events.

The idea makes me smile. This summer is my last chance to make as much as I can before I return home to Virginia.

It’d be huge if someone out there was impressed by the food tonight and offered me more dinner party gigs.

I’m trying to pick up as many shifts as I can at Pembroke Hills, the country club where I wait tables, but being a waitress isn’t my passion—making food is.

Kacey, one of Laurent’s full-time staff members, walks into the kitchen. She huffs loudly, her palms hitting the granite countertop with a loud smack . “I wonder if Mr. Hughes has been in a good mood once in his life.”

I rub my lips together to hide a budding smile. Judging by my interactions with Laurent Hughes, I don’t think he’s ever been in a good mood. I can’t even picture it.

Lewis, another one of Mr. Hughes’s staff members, walks into the kitchen with a wide grin. “You know, I’ve actually seen Laurent in a good mood.”

Kacey dramatically gasps. “ Really ? When?”

Lewis props his elbows on the counter as he stealthily looks over his shoulder before looking back at Kacey. “His mistress comes over while Mrs. Hughes is at her golf lessons. Mr. Hughes is always smiling after that.”

My eyes go wide as I try to pay attention to plating the skewers of jumbo shrimp next to the serving dish of lamb chops.

The Hamptons feels like a small town, especially with the gossip that comes with working at Pembroke Hills Country Club.

I’m used to the whispers of how the rich like to misbehave, but I try to stay out of it.

Here, it’s hard to tell the truth from rumors.

However, Lewis seems pretty confident that Laurent is, in fact, having an affair.

“I can’t believe he invites his mistress to his house. That’s diabolical,” Kacey responds with a hushed voice. She shakes her head as she takes a step closer to me.

“It really is,” Lewis agrees. He follows Kacey’s lead, the both of them stopping next to me.

“Are these ready to go out?” Kacey asks, lifting her wrist to check the time on her watch. “We have two minutes to get these out before Laurent comes marching in here, all red in the face, accusing us of ruining his dinner party for serving the food late.”

Kacey’s comment makes me laugh. I take a step back and wipe my hands on my apron, giving the dishes a quick once-over.

“They’re good to go.” I smile, letting out a small sigh of relief that I got the meal done in time.

For pulling the meal together at the last minute and not having a lot of time to prepare, I’m impressed with how everything turned out.

“Hopefully it tastes as good as it looks,” Lewis remarks, carefully picking up the plate filled with the lamb chops.

“You know it will,” Kacey pipes up, grabbing the bowl with the tomato salad and the basket of fresh bread I prepared. “Lucy always makes the best dishes.”

I place my hand on my chest as I give her an appreciative smile. “That means so much to me. Thank you.”

Kacey smiles before spinning carefully on her heel and walking right back out of the kitchen.

I’m not close with Kacey or Lewis, but the few times I’ve cooked for Laurent, they’ve been incredibly kind to me.

I make a mental note to wrap up the extra food we have from tonight and place it in containers for them.

I’m busy preparing a cherry tart with fresh cherries I picked up from the local market when Kacey comes hurrying in.

“Everyone is marveling about your food, Lucy. They’d like you to come out and introduce yourself.”

There’s a loud clanking noise as I drop the spoon I’d been holding.

“Surely I don’t need to introduce myself.

Are they not all from the club?” Suddenly, my nerves take over at the prospect of going out there and speaking to everyone.

Making connections with potential new clients is the main reason I accepted this last-minute job to begin with, but now that I’m faced with that opportunity, I’m overwhelmed with nerves.

I’ve always been terrible about talking about myself.

I’m even worse at accepting compliments—something that might have stemmed from growing up with two brothers who made it their mission to always humble me.

Kacey shrugs. “Even if they’ve met you before, they want to tell you how much they enjoyed the meal. Go talk to them.” She waves her hands through the air to hurry me along, but I stand frozen, unsure of what to do.

Kacey snaps her fingers to get my attention. “Lucy.” There’s more snapping, this time her fingers even closer to my face.

I jump, my heartbeat speeding up. “Yes?”

Kacey’s hands fall to my shoulders. “You’re going to go out there and own that you just blew their fucking socks off. Now, go snag some more clients. All of them are nicer than Laurent, which is a total win for you.”

I nod. Kacey has a point. Word of mouth is how to get new clients in the Hamptons, and anyone dining with Laurent Hughes can pay big money for meals. I need to own that I’m a damn good private chef and go make some connections.

I just might throw up first.

Kacey must see the fear in my eyes because she gives me a soft smile. “Laurent has dinner parties all the time. You’re a far better chef than anyone else he’s hired. Although, if you repeat that, I’ll deny I ever said it until I’m blue in the face.”

Her words make me laugh, easing some of my tension. “I guess I should get out there.”

Taking a deep breath, I step around her. I give Kacey a nervous smile over my shoulder as I leave the kitchen, internally praying I don’t make a fool of myself in front of Laurent’s guests.