Forbidden Disclosure(37)

“Sure, but I don’t know too much information.”



“Did anyone die?”



“I don’t think anyone died, but I could be wrong about that. Seems a man was the one who got the horses out of the barn. The fire happened in the middle of the night, so I’m guessing, whoever it was, lived there. But we’re planning on dinner around two. Do you think you’ll be finished up in time?” Katherine’s interest in John Williams didn’t escape Andy. She’d never been this curious about a man.



“Yeah, that shouldn’t be a problem. Hopefully they’ll be nice and warm when they’re served.” Katherine gave her uncle another hug before he turned and walked out the door.



She immediately went to her bed and began to do a search on the little laptop as soon as the door closed. The article didn’t mention that anyone had died. Thank God. Now to find John Williams, in New York… Wait, why are you looking for him?



But she did anyway, and the list was huge. With eyes full of sadness, she returned to the pies. He probably hates me as much as I hate him, especially because I left town without a word. If she hadn’t been so livid at his behavior with Emily and for punching her cousin, she would have explained things. If only…





“Katherine, are you going to eat this delicious food or shove it around your plate?” asked her uncle as he crammed more turkey in his mouth.



“I ate so much! I’m just getting full now.” She tried to give her best smile.



“Bullshit. This is the same plate of food, Katherine. Eat it.” Her uncle looked at her through serious eyes. She knew she wasn’t going to win. Slowly, she lifted her fork.





The rest of the weekend was quiet. Katherine did a couple of Karaoke nights, but other than that she tried to catch up on some much needed sleep. Fitful dreams awoke her frequently. Mostly she dreamed of John burning in a fire and her not being able to save him.





On Sunday evening, Katherine boarded her flight to go back to her little, freezing apartment. This was the last week she had to find a model. It was stupid of her to sign up for the sewing room, knowing she had nothing to make.



That evening she checked her emails. No one responded to the ad. That’s what I get for advertising through a holiday weekend. Hopefully someone will call this week. Katherine didn’t have the money to waste on another week of ads. But by then it would be too late to find a model anyway. She’d just have to retake the class, which would put her graduation date off by a year. The course was only offered in the fall. My life sucks.





Rosie waltzed into the kitchen at five in the morning and began preparing the turkey and getting the stuffing, casseroles, and the rest of the delicious meal prepared.



Francesco answered his phone at five-fifteen in the morning. The phone ringing at that hour scared him to the core.



“Francesco, I’m so sorry to wake you,” said a sheepish Carl.



“What’s the matter, Carl, is Daniel okay?”



“There is a kitchen problem, Sir. I thought maybe you should handle this one.”



“Carl, you’re calling to wake me up at this hour to tell me about a problem in the kitchen?” Francesco’s voice was getting loud.



“It’s Rosie.”



“What are you talking about? Is she okay?!”



“Sir, Rosie has gone into the kitchen and insists on cooking Thanksgiving dinner. She said that their recipes were, and I quote her, Sir, ‘God awful.’”



“Carl, if she wants to prepare the meal, let her. Tell the staff to answer to her. They can be her assistants today.” Francesco was feeling warmth in his heart.



“The chef is angry, Sir. He’s threatening to walk out.”



“He’ll be in love with her by the time dinner is served.”



“Okay, Sir. Thank you.” Carl hung up the phone and hurried to the kitchen.



Francesco never laughed so hard in his life. He was deciding he loved a woman with spunk!





Daniel was already drooling from the wonderful smells coming from the kitchen at the mansion. He was uneasy at first, due to all the yelling, and he could tell that Rosie was right smack in the middle of it. She insisted on serving it also and had even talked Francesco into carving the turkey. She hugged all the kitchen staff before she left, and once again there was peace.



“Rosie, I haven’t done this in so many years! You sure you want me to cut this bird?”



“Francesco, you’ll do a wonderful job.” Rosie smiled at the older, attractive man, who was wearing a childlike expression on his face.