set facing each other. “Gerta will be serving in a few minutes. She knows I like to enjoy a drink before dinner. Please sit down, Jill. May I call you, Jill?” he asked as he guided in her chair.
“Yes, of course,” she said, trying to quell a nervous tightening in her stomach. How in the world could she avoid the dangerous pitfalls inherent in any idle dinner conversation when the truth must be laced with lies?
“First names seem better all around even though Hugo frowns on too much familiarity amongst the staff,” he said. “We all toe the mark when he’s around, but you know the old adage—when the cat’s away.” He took the chair opposite her. “I’m delighted to have such a vivacious dinner partner. Since we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, we might as well get better acquainted.”
Ashley tried to keep a pleasant smile on her face as she fought off a rising sense of panic. Now what? He obviously expected some entertaining table conversation. What if he started asking her questions whose answers he already knew?
Deciding offense was her own defense, she asked, “Where’d you learn to tend bar?”
Kyle set down his drink slowly. The question took him by surprise because he’d expected the conversation to totally revolve around Jill Gordon. From what he’d heard, this gal pretty much commanded the center of attention wherever she went. “A pretty dull story,” he parried. “Not the kind to interest a pretty lady.”
“Try me,” she challenged, steadily meeting his eyes over the rim of her glass.
“All right.” He leaned back in the chair. “My father had a small tavern in a New York Irish ghetto, where I grew up. We lived in a flat above the bar, and I guess I was more at home working with my pa than upstairs with my five sisters and my mother. What about you? Where’d you learn to appreciate Sex on the Beach—the drink, I mean?” he added with a flirtatious grin.
“I’ve been to a few parties,” Ashley said lightly, resenting his suggestive tone. Jill’s personal life was none of Kyle Stone’s business. He was, after all, just an employee of Hugo Vandenburg, as she was. The way he’d deftly turned the conversation back onto her made it difficult to keep the questions going in his direction. She sensed that there was a war of sorts going on between them.
“What about your family?” he prodded.
She stalled, lifting her glass to her lips again, and suddenly realized that her drink was nearly gone. Never in her life had she drunk a cocktail so fast.
“Here, let me fill that up,” Kyle said as he saw her looking at her glass. She was a drinker, all right, he thought as he took the pitcher and filled her glass again. She had downed her drink in record time. His orders were to make sure that her stay as nanny was a successful one, even if he had to pick up the slack with the children. Keeping her on the job was going to be one heck of a challenge if she were a lush. Just his luck that he’d have to put an inebriated Jill Gordon to bed her first night here. Where was Gerta with the food?
As Ashley watched him fill her glass again, she realized that in her nervousness she’d consumed the first drink much too fast. The clear thoughts she needed so desperately in order to get through this dinner without a catastrophe were already becoming fuzzy. Her sister would never forgive her if she fouled up everything the first night here. I have to keep the talk general and away from any personal revelations, she told herself. She already had the feeling that Kyle knew enough about Jill to make any conversation a minefield.
As she let her gaze wander around the room, searching for some neutral topic, she murmured, “Very nice decor.”
“Hugo renovated the whole house last winter,” Kyle said, glancing at his watch.
Ashley pretended interest in the ivory-and-burgundy floral wallpaper and framed prints of southern colonial life hung in an artistic grouping above the mirrored buffet. As her gaze moved to a corner of the room, she suddenly stiffened, blinked and stared. Were her eyes deceiving her?
“What’s the matter?” he asked, seeing her startled expression.
“That freestanding corner cabinet…”
He followed her gaze. “Yes. What’s the matter with it?”
“It looks in perfect condition,” she answered without thinking as her eyes swept over the dark walnut wood. The only time she’d seen one like it was in the textbook she used to teach about life in the colonial period. The cabinet’s fluted pilasters and classical moldings revealed the close relationship between cabinetwork and architecture that was observed in the colonies as early as 1715. There was no doubt in Ashley’s mind that this was a museum piece. She opened her mouth to share this wonderful discovery and then realized from the look on his face that she’d stepped into quicksand. “My aunt had one like that,” she lied.
“Are you interested in antique furniture, Jill?” he asked with a rather mocking smile. “Mr. Vandenburg has a hobby of buying up old estates, you know.”
“No, I didn’t,” she answered truthfully. This was a surprise. From what Jill had said, Ashley hadn’t expected the wealthy man to be a collector.
“You’ll probably find quite a few pieces in the house, as well as old china and porcelain,” he said casually.
“Nice hobby,” she answered in what she hoped was a matter-of-fact tone that would hide her excitement. No telling what treasures the man had picked up if this lovely walnut cupboard was any indication of his tastes, she thought. Her historical studies had created an insatiable passion for beautiful antiques. Maybe she’d have a chance to see some of them before she and Jill switched places. Thinking about her twin brought Ashley up short. She knew it would be out of character for Jill to be interested in “old things.” In fact, she knew what her sister’s response to all of this would be.
“I bet they’re worth a lot of money,” Ashley said.
Kyle smiled. Money. For a few minutes there, her interest in the old cupboard had thrown him an unexpected curve. The pretty lady’s interest in an old cupboard didn’t fit in with the profile that he’d been given. Now, he knew her interest was centered on cold, hard cash.
“I guess there’s a market for that stuff,” he agreed, deciding he’d have to make sure that they kept temptation out of her way. Money was money, and he didn’t want her lifting any gold snuff boxes or rare coins. He knew she was financially stressed, and he’d seen the light of interest in her eyes when he told her about Hugo’s penchant for antiques. Yes, indeed, this gal was going to require a lot more attention than he’d been led to believe. Hugo would have his neck for sure if something happened to even one of his prize acquisitions.
At that moment Gerta came in with the dinner trays. The maid looked harried, and Kyle wondered if her uncle, the cook, had been at her again. Hugo had brought a distant relative of his, Hendrick Heinz, from Germany to cook for him, and Gerta, the cook’s niece, had come along, too. She was a very plain woman in her thirties, and Kyle had decided that she had a personality as colorless as her looks. The only time Gerta showed any animation was when she was fighting with her uncle, and the kitchen rocked as they spewed a volley of German curses at each other. Kyle had learned to give them a wide berth, leaving Mrs. Borsch to deal with the volatile pair. The only saving grace were the wonderful meals that the bombastic Hendrick prepared.
“Thank you, Gerta,” Kyle said, as she began to place covered dishes on the table. Then he smiled at Ashley, “You’re in for a treat. I’ll guarantee that you’ve never tasted better cooking anywhere. The menu is always varied, even when Hugo is gone. I hope you’re not watching that slim figure of yours so much you don’t enjoy good food.”
As his eyes lingered a moment on her tight-fitting dress, Ashley felt a spurt of irritation. Why did she have the feeling he was constantly baiting her?
“Oh, is that a problem for you?” she answered, looking at him with what she hoped was wide-eyed innocence. “Luckily, I’m able to eat whatever I want without worrying. I suppose some people have problems with over-eating.”
As