“I think so,” Sienna said. “I’d better get it. Be right back.”
Blair used the edge of the towel to dab her eyes, but then brightened. “What if it’s the famous person and they’ve stopped by to say hello. We’ll finally know who it is. We should go see.”
Emily grinned. “I doubt it’s the musician. Didn’t Sienna say they were in Mykonos?”
“Oh yeah.” Blair lay back against the lounger. “Probably maintenance or groundskeepers or something. Who do rich people employ?”
But a few minutes went by, and Sienna didn’t return. Then the shadow of a man on his phone passed the glass door to the great room. Emily stood up and went inside, with Blair following.
In the kitchen the counters were littered with insulated cooler bags, baskets of fresh vegetables, and cooking supplies. The tall, broad-shouldered man with gold stubble and a striking jawline glanced over. His attention lingered on Emily as he talked quietly into his phone. She smiled, but he turned away.
“What’s all this?” Emily whispered to Sienna, waggling a finger at the items on the counter.
“He’s the musician’s personal chef. He’s supposed to be cooking dinner for him and his family this week,” Sienna whispered. “They forgot to tell him they weren’t going to be here.”
Just then, the man finished his call and joined them. Emily smiled again. He noticed her once more, a slight curiosity brimming in those brooding blue eyes. He turned to address Sienna, the movement revealing the bottom edge of a tattoo on his round bicep peeking out from under his short sleeve.
“The owner expresses his deep apologies for the interruption,” he said. “I’ll just leave the week’s groceries with you all. Dinner’s yours if you’d like it. I can bring the rest by tomorrow.”
“What was on the menu for tonight?” Blair asked.
“A starter of heirloom tomato and burrata salad with basil oil and sea salt, a main course of fried snapper with citrus herb butter, and a side of grilled sweet corn tossed with cotija, lime, and smoked paprika. For dessert, I planned key lime tarts with coconut crust and hand-whipped cream.”
“I’m salivating,” Sienna said as Blair peeked into one of the containers.
He didn’t laugh, but he offered a strained smile. “Well, enjoy.”
“Wait a minute,” Blair said, snapping one of the lids back into place. “None of it’s cooked.”
He pursed his lips. “Correct. I cook the clients’ food on-site.”
Blair waved a hand between the three of them. “We don’t know how to make any of that, do we?”
Emily and Sienna shook their heads.
“Leaving it would be a waste of food,” Blair said.
“She’s right,” Sienna agreed. “You’re welcome to take it back with you.”
“The boss paid for the whole week already, and he said to leave it here. You can dump it if you want to.”
Blair piped up. “There are children starving at this very hour. I can’t in good conscience throw all this away.”
He frowned, clearly considering this.
“Have you already been paid to cook as well?” Emily asked. “If not, maybe we could all chip in for the cost and have you cook for us, since you’d planned on doing that this week anyway.”
He searched her face and then his shoulders fell. “I’ve been paid, yes.”
“Perfect.” Sienna gave him a loaded grin. “Then cook us this fabulous food.”
Expressionless, he went over to the counter and began unpacking his supplies.
When it was clear the chef was only there to do his job and not to entertain them with small talk, they each poured themselves a lemonade and went back out to the pool.
“I think he was trying to get out of working this week,” Blair said under her breath as they sat at the poolside table under a large blue-and-white striped umbrella. “Should we have let him go?”
“I’m sure it’s weird for him to stay, since he doesn’t know us,” Emily added, uncertain why, given his frosty introduction, she’d stuck up for him. He could’ve at least been friendly.
