Page 13 of The Swap After Hours

I watched as the tension left his face, replaced with a genuine smile. “Thanks, Trev. I think I needed to hear that.”

“Anytime. Although, I should warn you, my playing therapist will cost you extra.”

“I can only pay you in food.”

“Sounds like the perfect deal.” I winked at him.

“Okay, well, if you’re done chopping those, we need to get them packed up and start loading the van.”

The savory aroma of freshly prepared dishes filled the air as we worked side by side, transferring trays of food from the counters to the catering van parked outside.

“Doug, pass me those platters, would you?” I called out, trying to be heard over the clatter of pots and pans.

He nodded; his focus unwavering as he handed me the trays of appetizers. “Here you go. I think that’s everything. The rest of the staff will finish cleaning up and then meet us there.”

“Okay. Oh, wait! Did you double-check to make sure we’ve got the salad dressing?” I asked, hoping I hadn’t missed anything.

He gave me a reassuring nod. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered.”

I smiled, happy to see his usual confidence was back. As we climbed in the van, Doug playfully punched me in the shoulder. “Thanks a lot, man. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

I laughed, returning the gesture. “Same here. After all, you’re the mastermind behind it all. I simply do what I’m told.”

Ten minutes later, we pulled up outside a ritzy hotel right in the heart of the city. I whistled. “You weren’t kidding when you said this party would be fancy. I bet a night here costs more than our rent.”

“No joke. This place only caters to the most wealthy and privileged.”

“What kind of party did you say it is?”

He shrugged. “I’m not really sure. The woman that called me to set everything up was kind of vague. All I know is their usual caterer had to quit and they’re looking for someone to take over that role. With the type of clientele this place brings in, this could open a lot of doors for me.”

“Guess we better get in there and wow them then, huh?”

Doug’s cheeks puffed out as he blew out an anxious breath then he nodded. “Let’s do this.”

The next hour flew by as we unloaded the van and began setting everything up. The party was being held on the top floor which included a large conference space and eight large suites. We were told guests could also access the rooftop terrace with its full-service bar, large pool, and comfortable outdoor seating, all of which overlooked Times Square.

The rest of the staff arrived and jumped in to help. As I was pouring champagne into a tray full of glasses, I noticed a woman speaking with Doug.

She was beautifully dressed in a flowing black dress with a plunging neckline and a slit up the side that showed off her long, tanned legs. She handed him some papers before gracefully walking out of the room.

“Hey, guys,” Doug said as he walked over to us. “Um, I need you all to sign these, please.”

He handed out the papers and I looked them over. “What is this?” one of the guys asked.

“It’s a non-disclosure agreement.”

“I get that, but why? We’ve never had to sign these for any other party we’ve catered.”

“Well, we’ve never catered a party with so many wealthy, influential guests. Ms. Rathchild said it’s common practice to ask people they work with to sign an NDA. It protects her guests and puts them at ease. We also need to hand our phones over to her until we get ready to leave. That way no one can take any pictures of the guests.”

“Jesus, rich people are weird.”

A rumble of laughter and murmured agreement traveled around our group, but everyone signed the papers and handed Doug their phones to give to Ms. Rathchild. I had no idea why they felt the need for such secrecy, but this was important to Doug, so I’d go along with it.

We finished getting everything ready just as the first guests began to arrive. My gaze swept over the assortment of dishes laid out before me. From savory appetizers to decadent desserts, each creation was a testament to my best friend’s culinary talent, and my chest swelled with pride.

As the room began to fill with more guests, we got to work. Clad in a crisp white shirt and a black apron, I grabbed a tray of hors d’oeuvres and pasted a smile on my face as I started making my way around the room.

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