Ain't She Sweet (Seven Brides for Seven Mothers #2) - Whitney Dineen Page 0,84
Ruby says as soon as she enters the lobby.
“Most of the press are currently in the dining room or bar, probably waiting to see if Romaine comes down for supper,” Chris suggests,
“I wish we could charge them double for being annoying.” Ruby shrugs out of Billy’s jacket.
“Rubes, once their articles come out, we’re going to be swamped with business. As much as it pains me to say, this is going to be a publicity extravaganza, especially when people find out Tara is our new pastry chef.”
“Poor Tara,” is all Ruby manages.
A server from the restaurant comes running in and hands Ruby the puppy. “Can you please take her? I can’t carry trays and a dog at the same time.”
“What are you doing with her?” Ruby sounds confused.
“James left her in the restaurant and he never came back for her.”
Ruby turns to Chris. “I thought Penny was in the office.”
“I took her out for a walk a bit ago and James took her from there. I’m not sure what happened after that.”
Ruby snuggles the puppy and gives her kisses before saying, “Well, at least I have you again.” She asks Helena, “How’s everything in the dining room?”
“We’re packed and there’s an hour wait. We’re going to make bank tonight, so I’m not complaining.”
“Good. Get going. I’ll be there in a few minutes to check on everyone.” After Helena walks away, Ruby asks Chris, “Can I hand over the grandpuppy for a few minutes? I just want to make sure everything is going well.”
Chris puts her hands out to accept her charge. “Rubes, we’ve got to get you a baby.”
“That’s been my plan all along, Chris.”
James
I feel like a kid playing dress up, wearing chef’s whites and pushing a room service cart down the hall. “Are you doing all right under there?” I ask Tara.
“Shhhhhhhhhh,” she hisses. “People are going to think it’s strange that you’re talking to yourself.”
“I’m not talking to myself; I’m talking to you.”
“Be quiet, James!” she orders. Stressed Tara is Mean Tara. Not that I didn’t know that from our head-butting sessions this summer, but she’s been so easy to get along with lately that I nearly forgot.
When I pass through reception, I run into my mom. She says, “Pardon me,” and is about to walk right by me when she stops dead in her tracks. “James, is that you?”
“Hey, Mom. Yup, just taking some food upstairs to one of our guests.”
“I’m sorry, did I hire you recently?”
I tip my head toward the cart trying to let her know something is up. “I’m helping Geoffrey out. He’s short-staffed.” Head bob, head bob, head bob.
“Are you okay?” she sounds concerned like she might be about to call the men with butterfly nets to come get me.
“Why don’t you walk with me?” I ask. “I need to keep moving so this food doesn’t get cold.”
As my mom walks beside me, I whisper, “Tara is under the cart.”
“What?”
I don’t have a chance to answer because Tara says, “James, will you please be quiet at least until we get into the elevator?”
“Tara’s under the cart,” Mom says, sounding surprised. Isn’t that what I just said?
We’re all quiet until the elevator doors open. Once inside, I announce, “Tara, we’re in. My mom is with us.”
“Hey, Ruby,” she calls out.
“What are you doing under there?” my mom asks.
“We’re on our way up to see Romaine. His wedding is the one we have booked for Friday.”
“What? Why in the world would he get married where you work? That doesn’t make any sense. Also, I thought the wedding couple were named Tony and Tina or something like that.”
“A lot of celebrities use fake names to keep the press away. Romaine doesn’t usually try to keep them away, but my guess is that Cash used the fake names so I wouldn’t find out they were getting married here until she wanted me to find out.”
“When would that have been?” my mom wonders.
I answer for Tara, “Probably when enough press was around to make sure they all got a shot of Tara finding out.”
“Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner!” Tara says from under the table. “Cash Cartwright does nothing that’s not in her own best interest. Publicly humiliating me would be her ultimate revenge.”
“Why does she want revenge?” my mom asks.
“We always had a healthy rivalry going on when we were modeling. She felt like she played second fiddle to me and she’s always resented it. So, what better payback than to walk away with my fiancé?”