It had taken Mrs. Cook a moment to realize that the dinner was the night before the wedding, which meant Jenna’s mother would be wearing the same dress the day after Kathryn had already been seen in it.
Putting aside the diary, Dani laid her head back and laughed. How she wished the unsinkable Kathryn Sloan was still around.
Sometime later, Dani blinked awake. Shivering, she jumped out of the tub. The water was ice cold. How long had she been sleeping? She quickly dried off, dashed into the bedroom, and grabbed her watch from the dresser.
Shit! She’d been in the bathtub for nearly three hours. No wonder she was chilled, not to mention her skin was as wrinkled as the used tissue paper from the bottom of a gift bag. It was a miracle she hadn’t slid below the surface and drowned.
She could see the headline now. Chef-to-Go owner commits suicide. Details at ten. Wouldn’t that be a great way for her father to find out she was no longer gainfully employed at Homestead Insurance?
As Dani hurried to get ready for the Karneses’ dinner party, she thought about her dad. She really needed to update him on her current situation. During her Thanksgiving visit home, she’d tried to tell him about the mansion and her idea to open her own company, but when she brought up her grandmother, he’d shut her down.
She’d planned to explain everything at Christmas, but he’d texted her December 23 to say he was flying to China on business and would try to see her at Easter. He’d avoided spending that holiday with her as well. She wanted to give him her news face-to-face, but at this rate, she should probably just send him an email.
Pulling on black chef pants and her signature red chef coat, Dani slid her feet into comfortable nonslip shoes and ran into the bathroom. Leaning close to the oval mirror on the wall above the vanity, she flashed a quick glance at her long, dark-blond hair, then twisted it into a high bun and used gel to make sure the sides were smooth with no threat of flyaway strands getting into the food.
Dani glanced at the watch she’d attached to her belt loop. Five thirty. No time for makeup. Barely time to load the supplies in her van and make it to the Karneses’ before her clients started texting her.
Fortunately, Dr. and Dr. Karnes only lived a few miles away. Dani sped through the busy side streets, then drove into an affluent neighborhood filled with large houses on lushly landscaped lots. A couple more turns and she passed through an open gate into a secluded cul-de-sac. Suddenly the homes went from upscale to lavish. Three-car garages turned into four or five. Properties doubled and tripled in size. And square footage quadrupled.
Dani pulled into the first driveway on the right and glanced at the dashboard clock. It was six on the dot. She gathered up as much food and equipment as she could carry, followed the sidewalk to the rear of the faux castle, and rang the bell.
Several minutes later, Chelsea Karnes, dressed in a thick terry robe and wearing a towel around her head, flung open the back door and announced, “Our guests need to catch an early fight tomorrow morning, so you’ll have to serve dinner at seven instead of seven thirty.”
Without waiting for a response, the slender woman led Dani through a mudroom lined with shelves, cubbies, and a long bench that stretched across the entire back wall. As Dani followed her employer, she quickly reviewed the menu, hoping that she would be able to make the new deadline.
The asparagus and parmesan puff appetizers were ready to pop in the oven. The cantaloupe, prosciutto, and arugula salad just needed a drizzle of olive oil, salt, and pepper. And she could whip up the halibut bourguignon with minted new potatoes in less than forty-five minutes.
Dessert was the tricky part. Because the chestnut tart was best served right out of the oven, the only thing Dani had prepped for it was the side of ginger ice cream. She would need to work on it quickly while her clients were eating and pray it would be done in time.
Entering the kitchen, Chelsea glanced over her shoulder and said, “I have to get dressed. The Bournes will be here in thirty minutes. We’ll have drinks on the patio first, but appetizers need to be on the table in less than an hour.”
“Then I better get cracking.” Dani remained expressionless as the woman marched away, then scowled and hurried back out to the van to carry in the rest of the supplies. She needed to get a couple of carts so she could load the whole shebang onto them at once and avoid multiple trips.
When Dani had her supplies inside, she turned on the double ovens to preheat, then stowed the perishables in the huge stainless steel refrigerator. Checking the walk-in pantry, Dani was happy to see that the Karneses had followed her request and stocked the shelves with the staples she needed.
With the exception of the Keurig and the microwave, neither the professor nor the doctor appeared to use anything in the gourmet kitchen, and the first time Dani had cooked for them, the pantry was as bare as Mother Hubbard’s cupboard. At least now they had the basics—flour, sugar, vinegar, oil, chicken broth, rice, pasta, and some canned goods.
Although Dani couldn’t understand how people like Chelsea and Trent Karnes could live without acquiring the basic skills necessary to feed themselves, she was grateful they did because that meant more clients for her. Shaking her head, she started making the crust for the chestnut tarte.
Twenty minutes later, the doorbell played the first few bars of Beethoven’s fifth symphony and Dani heard Chelsea and Trent greet their guests. The first time Dani had cooked for the Karneses, Trent had just
