Have a Deadly New Year. Lynn Cahoon
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with this guy, and she wanted to know more about his relationship. Angie wondered why she was even thinking about this. What was wrong with her? Angie tried to defuse the situation. “I don’t think anyone brought skis.”
“No worries, I keep a supply in the equipment shed.” Cliff walked over to the wall by the door and took off a set of keys. “There’s also snowmobiles and snowshoes available.”
“We shouldn’t, I mean, we’re here for a retreat, not to ski,” Angie said, but then she saw the pained look in Matt’s eyes. She took a deep breath. “Fine, we’ll carve out some time for some skiing. But nobody break any bones. If you do, I’ll refuse your work comp claim. And I mean that.”
Estebe chuckled. “Like a good boss, you’re always thinking about the business first.”
“Honestly, I just don’t want anyone to have to go to the hospital. It really messes with the vibe of the retreat.” Angie took the key from Cliff. “I’m putting it back on the wall, but seriously, if anyone takes off, please just let someone know so we’re not worried. I’d hate to have someone freeze to death because we didn’t know where to look.”
“Safety first. In winter sports or in the kitchen.” Felicia snapped to attention and sent Angie a sharp salute.
“Funny girl.” Angie hung the keys back. “Anyway, we need to get back to work.”
“We didn’t mean to keep you,” Bailey said as she laid a hand on Cliff’s arm. “Thank you for agreeing to come and cater. The local girl didn’t seem interested in doing the event.”
“Maybe she was busy.” Cliff put his arm around her. “We’ve got things to do before tonight’s dinner. Lots to discuss. Wish me luck tonight.”
And with that, the couple spun around and headed out the door. When Angie knew they were outside of eavesdropping range, she turned and studied her team. “Did that seem strange to anyone but me?”
“Rock stars are strange. Alice Cooper slept with his snake,” Matt added to the discussion as he started plating the salad course.
“That’s an urban myth,” Felicia challenged. Then she held up a hand. “Besides, Cliff is one of the most stable guys you’ll find in or outside the music business.”
Angie shook her head. “Even I’ve heard stories about the band. Postal Mutiny is thought to have broken up because of the arguments between Cliff and Dane.”
“That’s probably true. I know Cliff would have stood his ground, especially if he thought he was on the right side of the music.” Felicia glanced up at the clock. “If we’re going to be ready to serve at five thirty, don’t you think we should get busy?”
They were just completing the first course plating when a woman dressed in a blazer, white shirt, and pressed jeans stepped into the kitchen. Her long straight black hair was pulled back off her face, and she wore a pair of black-rimmed glasses. She held up her hands. “Sorry, guys, we’re going to have to push service back to six. Dane and Suzie just got back from skiing and need a few minutes to get ready.”
Angie groaned, on the inside. The salad would have to be remade, as there was no way it would hold for thirty minutes. “Are you sure?” She stepped to the woman. “I mean, we’ll have to remake the first course if we push it back. Will they be ready at six? Or will we have to push it again?”
“Look.” The woman looked at Angie’s chest, trying to find a nametag. When she didn’t find one, she sighed. “I’m sorry, what’s your name?”
“Angie Turner. Head chef of the County Seat. We were hired to prepare a dinner that started at five thirty by Cliff Henry. So who exactly are you?” Angie narrowed her eyes as she took in the woman, who had to be some sort of admin or secretary or personal assistant. The aura of positional power seeped out all around her.
Surprise filled the woman’s face. Angie wondered if anyone had ever talked back to her barking orders before.
She glanced at the clipboard before she answered. She put on a smile that was friendly and apologetic at the same time. “Sorry, I should have introduced myself before shouting orders. I apologize. I’m Carolyn Hughes, Mr. Pines’s personal assistant. I guess you could say I’m the band’s cat herder.”
Ignoring the joke and the attempt to win her over with what Carolyn must perceive as charm, Angie glanced at the clock. “You’re asking for the dinner to be pushed back to six? Will everyone be available to eat by then?”
“Yes. I’ll have everyone in the room so you can serve exactly at six.” Carolyn’s head bobbed as she saw a solution to her issue.
“Good. We’ll serve then. By the way, your serving staff will have to be available then for another hour, so please remember that when it’s time to pay the temp agency,” Angie reminded her.
“I don’t personally pay the bills, but I’ll send a note to the accounting department of the change of circumstances.” She looked around the room, paused her scan at Felicia, then nodded. “I better go round up the cats then.”
Angie stepped back to the counter and glanced at the plated salads Matt had already completed. “Let’s trash those and start over.”
“Will do, boss.” He glanced at the servers who were gathered in a corner of the kitchen. “Anyone hungry?”
The three women all came and grabbed a plate, as did Hope. Angie took two over to where Felicia was sitting and placed them on the table in front of her friend. “Was I too direct?”
Felicia laughed and picked up her fork. “No, and thank God for that. Carolyn’s notorious for switching plans at the last minute. I bet she had some menu changes on that clipboard that she’d intended to bring up, but with you crawling down her throat at the change of time, she thought better of pushing it.”
“Well, then, I guess I did my job. I hate catering, just for this reason. Remember the lady in San Francisco who changed her menu on the birthday meal for fifty, three times? The last time I had to tell her I was going to charge her three times what I’d quoted just for the changes.” Angie bit into the salad. She smiled, finished the bite, then called out. “Great dressing on this, Matt!”
“Thanks, boss.” Matt beamed at the compliment.
Felicia glanced at the clock. “All we have to do is get through the next four hours. Then they’ll be gone when we wake up tomorrow, and we can have our retreat.”
Angie nodded, but her first thought was that four hours was a very, very long time. She hoped Felicia’s prediction would be true and the time would fly by quickly. From the way the dinner had started, Angie didn’t believe they’d be that lucky.
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