“There are different philosophies,” she was saying. “Tables of eight are more intimate. People can actually talk around the table. It’s also easier for couples to buy a table when there are only eight seats to fill. Tables for twelve can make for an easier seating plan in a room this size. They’re more efficient for the serving staff, but they make it virtually impossible to speak with anyone but immediate neighbors.”
Katie indicated a large round table set with everything from water glasses to salt shakers.
“With our ’cook your own dinner’ menu, we have to consider allowing people to move in and out of the area. A table for ten falls somewhere in the middle of the two. Obviously.” She shot him a quick smile. “As an aside, tables for eight mean more linen rentals and centerpieces. I could work out the cost differences if you would like.”
Zach already felt his eyes glazing over just hearing her talk about it. A spreadsheet on the subject was about as appealing as a root canal.
“You’re the expert, Katie,” he said. “It’s your call.”
She grinned. “I had a feeling you’d say that. Somehow I suspect this isn’t all that interesting to you.”
“You think?”
Her grin turned into a chuckle. He leaned a little closer to better hear the soft sound. In the process he caught a whiff of feminine fragrance…something sweet and just a little sultry. Tempting-much like Katie herself.
As usual she dressed for success-slacks and a cropped jacket in black, with a red silk blouse. Her hair had been piled on top of her head in a style that was probably supposed to be professional. But it was late afternoon and too many tendrils had escaped for the look to be anything but sexy.
She was doing the “I’m a businesswoman” dance, and all it did was make him want to see her naked. If she knew, she would smack the crap out of him.
“Okay, so you have no vote on the table size,” she said, making a note on her ever-present pad of paper. “Do you want to express an opinion on the color and style of linens?”
“Do you want to have a detailed conversation about torte law?”
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “Gee, Zach, if I’d known you were going to be so difficult, I wouldn’t have asked for your opinion on anything.”
“Sure you would. You like hanging out with me.”
She raised her eyebrows. “No wonder you drive such a big car. You need room for your ego. What do you do when you fly? Will it fit in the overhead compartment or do you have to check it into baggage?”
“You know what they say. Big ego, big…”
“Idiot?” she offered with a smile and walked toward her briefcase, which rested on a chair. After opening the bag, she pulled out a thick folder.
“Back to the subject at hand,” she said. “I have a list of the prizes for our high-end donors. I’ve spoken with the jewelry designers Sara recommended. They’re-”
“Who?” he interrupted.
“Sara.” Her eyes twinkled with humor. “Probably better known to you as ‘John’s wife.’”
“Okay. The pregnant one.”
“Right. She recommended a few jewelry designers. They all agreed to sell us unique pieces at cost. Of course their names will be prominently displayed in the program, and I’m sure we’ll start a fashion trend or two that night.” She looked up from the paper. “I don’t suppose you want to look at the design sketches.”
“Not really.”
“Then how about a list of the various prize packages? I’ve worked up a ski vacation in Europe, golfing in Scotland and Pebble Beach, and a lovely weekend in Napa, complete with a private dinner with the three top wine makers there.” She closed the folder. “I used family connections on that last one.”
“I’m impressed.”
“It’s all a matter of knowing who to call. Now, about the centerpieces.”
Zach held up his hands in front of him and took a step back. “Absolutely no flower decisions,” he said. “Order whatever you like in any color or style. I’m sure they’ll be wonderful.”
Katie slid a little closer. “Is the big, bad lawyer frightened of a few orchids?”
He was saved from replying by the arrival of a tall, painfully thin man in a white coat. The dark-haired stranger crossed to Katie, spoke her name in a tone of delight, and kissed the backs of both her hands.
She disentangled herself with grace and a small laugh. “Jerome, you spent way too much time in France. Stop acting so Continental, or I’ll tell my client that you’re actually from Nebraska.”
The tall man winced. “Katie, don’t even joke about that.” He turned to Zach and held out a hand. “I’m Jerome. I’m the head chef here at the hotel, and I’ll be in charge of the food for the charity event.”
“Nice to meet you.” Zach shook hands with the man, then glanced from one to the other. “You two have worked together before?”
“Several times,” Katie said easily. “Jerome is a perfectionist. Fresh produce is practically a religion with him, and his food is the better for it. He’s creative, yet willing to work within the confines of my ideas and, just as important, my budget. That’s unheard of at his level.”
“You flatter me,” Jerome said with obvious false modesty. “I’m simply gifted.”
“I know. And
Jerome held out several sheets of papers. Katie moved next to Zach so that he could read them as well. They were detailed food selections for the charity dinner. Handwritten notes filled the space by the typed items, detailing everything from possible condiments, to notations on availability and cost per serving.
“You’ll have to pick the chocolates quickly,” Jerome said as Katie flipped a page. “Some are easy enough to get, but if you’re serious about chocolate from around the world, some of my suppliers require a month’s notice.”
“No problem.”
When he started talking about the availability of produce, Zach excused himself and stepped into the hallway to call his office. Dora assured him there were no emergencies. He slipped the phone back into his jacket pocket and watched Katie work.
His mind returned to all the possibilities available in the large hotel. A small room with a smaller bed? A luxurious suite with a Jacuzzi tub? The sauna?
He found he really liked the idea of both of them slick with sweat, sliding against each other, burning from the inside out. He imagined himself pumping into her, then quickly shifted the fantasy so she was on top, riding him, her breasts-
He swallowed a sudden laugh. What the hell. His vivid images had produced a predictable and physical response. He was hard, horny, and couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten an erection during business hours. Work generally consumed him. Just not lately.
Katie made notes as Jerome talked, narrowing down the list of possible choices to something manageable. She would get all the information onto spreadsheets that evening. It would seem less unwieldy that way.
“What about a tasting dinner?” she asked. “When do you want to do that?”
He pulled a Palm Pilot from his jacket pocket and pushed a couple of buttons. “You want it here, or you want to take it with you?”
“Either works for me.” She looked around and saw Zach in the hallway. “You’re not escaping that easily,” she called to him. “Come on. I won’t make you decide on the items for the tasting dinner, but you did promise to help me with the actual eating.”
Zach returned to the ballroom. He moved with an easy masculine grace that left her mouth dry.
He annoyed her, impressed her, charmed her, and surprised her. And
“We have two important issues regarding the tasting dinner,” she said, determined not to let him know how much he affected her. “Do you want to eat it here or get it to go, and when do you want to have it?”
“Let’s get it to go,” he said. “Then we won’t be rushed.”
“Sounds great.” Maybe they could make it a very long evening. One that ended with…
She mentally slapped herself into paying attention to the moment at hand. Rather than deal with Zach, she focused on Jerome. At least he was completely safe. “What dates are good for you?”
He named off several.
Zach pulled out his own Palm Pilot and pushed buttons. “I’m pretty open. What about you, Katie?”
She ignored the suggestive tone of his voice. “Same here.”
