When Harriet Came Home by Coleen Kwan Read Free Book Online Page A

burst out before she realised she didn’t have a ready-made argument.
    “Yes?” He jingled the keys impatiently.
    She pulled herself upright. Why did she have to be so pint-sized? Difficult to intimidate someone like Adam when he stood over six-feet in his socks and looked as solid as a rock wall.
    “This Harvest Ball is important to my father,” she said, tempering her voice. “And—and it would please him no end if I could do the catering. For his sake would you reconsider having me as your caterer?” She paused. She wasn’t going to tell him it would mean a lot to her too, but it wouldn’t hurt to butter him up a little. She swallowed. “Please, Adam?”
    An evening breeze had sprung up, ruffling the tips of Adam’s hair and laying a rash of goose bumps along Harriet’s forearms. She shivered and hugged her cardigan closer to her. Adam seemed immune to the cool autumn evening. After his hard day of labouring, he appeared clean and fresh. The hint of soap and shampoo she caught off his skin made her senses tingle, and she had a sudden vision of him naked in the shower while he washed away the day’s dust. She bit her lip as her cheeks reddened. Talk about inappropriate thoughts! Thank goodness the lights in the parking lot were so dim.
    “How do I know you’re any good?”
    Her flush deepened. “What? Of course I’m good. What about those muffins I brought round this afternoon? Tony and his friend scoffed them down in no time.”
    He flexed his shoulder. “Tony and Ivan are labourers. They scoff down everything. And chocolate muffins aren’t exactly what I had in mind for the Harvest Ball.”
    She drew in a deep breath. “I’ve been running my own catering business for three years. I’ve built it up from nothing. Last year my turnover was in the six-figure mark.” She ticked off her achievements on her fingers. “I cater for both private parties and corporate functions. I have testimonials from many repeat clients.”
    Adam looked singularly unimpressed. He leaned against his car and folded his arms across his chest—a sure sign of belligerence, she thought.
    “Makes no difference to me whether you’re the Queen of England’s personal chef. I just don’t think you’d be right for the Harvest Ball.”
    Frustration flashed through her. “Isn’t that a decision to be made by the organising committee as a whole? Or are you running the whole show like a czar?”
    He stirred, and she saw his mouth tighten. “I’ve worked my butt off getting this ball together. I’m not going to let you derail everything.”
    “Derail! What do you mean?”
    “I mean, as soon as people remember who you are, they’ll start gossiping about what happened ten years ago. That’s precisely what I don’t want to happen.”
    “Oh.” She pressed a palm against her stomach, feeling winded. “I suppose you’ve turned everyone against me.”
    He shook his head. “I’ve never said anything against you. Whatever opinion people have of you, they arrived at without my influence.”
    Her chin quivered as she tilted it toward him. “And I don’t need to ask what your opinion of me is.”
    His face became stony. He rubbed his eyes as if he were exhausted. Without a word he yanked open the door and swung his long frame into his car.
    “Wait!” Panicked, she grabbed the edge of his car door, preventing him from shutting it. If he drove off now she would never get another chance to persuade him. He glared at her, and his hand on the inside handle twitched, as if he was thinking about slamming the door anyway.
    “You haven’t contacted another caterer yet, have you?” she asked.
    “I was going to call a few in the morning.” He scowled at her. “Why?”
    She licked her dry lips. “Today’s Friday, so I’m assuming you won’t be working tomorrow. Why don’t I cook you lunch, and then you can decide whether I’m good enough for your Harvest Ball? Isn’t that fair enough?”
    He continued to glower at her, but