Yes Chef, No Chef - By Susan Willis Page 0,76

she said. "Hope you’re looking forward to tonight?"

He cleared his throat a little. "Y…yes, of course," he stumbled. "But I was just worrying again about the menu and hoping I’ve got everything sorted properly. I really want to make this a special night for me and Jessica. Sort of a night to remember, if you know what I mean?"

Katie could hear the stress in his voice and she knew it was her job as the caterer to take the worry out of the occasion. This was one of the main reasons he was paying her. And, knowing Terry being indecisive would only make him worse.

"I do know, Terry," she reassured him confidently. "And stop worrying about the menu. You already know she loves beef and you both love red wine, so Beef Bourguignon - well, it’s the perfect choice."

"Hmm," he pondered.

“I have it already cooked and if I say so myself, it’s fabulous…”

“You’ve cooked it now?” he asked nervously, “I mean, shouldn’t it be fresh?”

Smiling she explained, “No, Terry. It’s actually better cooked the day before. You see, it’s a dish that only gains in flavour when it’s reheated.”

“Oh right,” he answered sheepishly. “And Katie, can I ask just one more question. Do you think red roses would be all right to give Jessica? Or are they not trendy anymore? Maybe I should try white lilies?"

This really wasn’t her territory but she did want the night to be successful especially because it was her first dinner booking. "If it was me, roses would win hands down every time," she said, and they made arrangements for her to be at his apartment at six o’clock.

Walking over to the French windows she held her face up to the early March sun which streamed through the glass and reassured herself by running through a check list. No matter how much Michael tormented her there was nothing cheap or tacky about the name of the business or the card, and there was a definite gap in the market with money to be made. And, apart from Terry’s job, she had secured another booking to assemble a picnic hamper for Michael’s friend who was trying to entice his ex-wife back.

She looked down her to-do list and crossed ‘contact and confirm with Terry’ off in red pen and then started to add more ingredients to the picnic shopping list. The coffee she’d made was cold now and she pulled a face after swallowing a mouthful but decided she definitely felt much brighter now the hangover effects from the previous night’s alcohol were lifting.

She’d spent the evening making the beef bourguignon but had ranted and raved her way through the recipe from the very beginning. She’d been poised with her sharpened knife above the freshly peeled onion when she’d thought of how Tim would have kissed the blonde and felt enraged. She knew exactly how he’d have used his tongue in the blonde’s mouth because it was how he used to kiss her and she’d felt a searing stab of jealousy. She’d sliced the whole onion in half and turned one half to slice swiftly and cleanly but her eyes had watered so much with aroma and essence that by the time she’d sliced in the opposite direction the tears had been cursing down her cheeks. They’d been tears of hurt, rejection, and jealousy mixed with temper and she’d had to stop and wipe her eyes with a T-towel. Come on, she’d chastised herself, get a grip and don’t let the bastard get to you like this, but the tears had continued until her second glass of wine when she’d finally managed to feel angry which overrode the hurt. And then after finishing the bottle she’d crashed out in bed and let blessed oblivion take over.

The Brian Adams song Summer of 69 suddenly blasted out from the radio and she turned the volume up; it was one of her favourite rock tracks and she sang out loud dancing around the island and emptying a packet of Bellini’s into an empty plastic container.

She packed all the items carefully in the order she would be serving the starter, main course, and dessert into the containers, boxes, and chill bags making doubly sure she had everything she needed plus emergency extras. Her stomach churned excitedly while she ran through it all in her mind but then clicked her tongue in annoyance when she was disturbed by knocking on the front door.

Opening the door she found Sarah and Lisa. Sarah wore