Read Online Home of the Braised by Julie Hyzy - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Julie Hyzy
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good idea after all.”
“I suspect he would have attacked me whether you were present or not. It’s clear from his manner of questioning, however, that you will continue to be the proverbial thorn in my paw.” Sargeant’s voice dropped, almost as though he was talking to himself. “I can’t say I anticipated such venom.” Blinking, he returned his attention to me. “I fear he’s out to make trouble for me. For you. With that in mind, Olivia, you must take care not to overstep again,” he said. “Is that clear? I will not tolerate shenanigans in this house. I can’t afford to.”
“Shenanigans,” I repeated, deadpan. “You know better.”
He didn’t meet my eyes. “I knew that media attention would be on me, but I’m facing far more scrutiny than I had expected. That was made abundantly clear moments ago. I knew you had a high profile and had established a reputation. What I hadn’t realized was how adversely your actions could affect my position.”
I tried my best to see things from his perspective. He’d just been promoted and within seconds of the official announcement, had been taken to task by a smart-aleck reporter clearly bent on stirring up trouble. “I will do what I did with Paul,” I said, striving to be accommodating. “I will keep you apprised of any unusual activity. Like I did yesterday.”
“See to it that you do,” he said. “I am not a man who enjoys surprises. Especially the sort of surprises you tend to deliver.”
We took a half flight of stairs to the chief usher’s office. I hadn’t been here since Sargeant had moved in, and the change in the room took me by surprise. Where Doug had allowed paperwork to pile up, leaving the area looking haphazard and messy at all times, Sargeant had restored order and class to the small space. The administrative assistant’s desk was clean, too.
“The office looks wonderful,” I said as he took his seat behind the desk. I took one across from him, pulling my toque onto my lap. “How did you get it in shape so fast?”
He ignored the question. “We need to discuss the running of your kitchen.” Opening his calendar, he pulled up a pen and stared at me. “I’d like to make an appointment for such a meeting next week. What is your schedule?”
We were interrupted before I could answer. The two mysterious men from the back of the Family Dining Room walked in, accompanied by two members of the PPD. With almost-perfect precision, they lasered their gazes on me. Sargeant could have been invisible for all they seemed to care.
“Ms. Paras,” one of the agents said, “a moment?”
I assessed them. Not one of the four wore a pleasant expression. “Of course,” I said. Getting up, I shot a confused look to Sargeant.
The chief usher’s brows came together over alert eyes. “We will continue our discussion later,” he said. “You can bring me up to date.”
The agent who’d addressed me took my elbow and spoke to Sargeant. “Don’t count on it.”
I squirmed out of the agent’s grasp as the four tall men walked me across the entrance hall to the Green Room. I knew I was short, but next to these enormous fellows, I felt like a toddler. The area was quiet. Empty. Tour time had ended during the press conference and the floor had been cleared of visitors. One of our maintenance people, buffing the already shiny marble floor, didn’t even look up as we passed.
We arrived to find a uniformed Secret Service agent giving the room a final check to ensure there were no stragglers. When we entered, he looked up in alarm. Without waiting for any of my escorts to say a word, he nodded and ducked out of the room.
When I heard the door shut behind him, I knew I was in trouble.
I fingered my toque, still tight in my hands. “What’s going on?” I asked.
The two PPD agents I knew closed the doors that led to the adjoining rooms, then took positions in front of them. To prevent anyone from walking in, or to prevent me from getting
“I suspect he would have attacked me whether you were present or not. It’s clear from his manner of questioning, however, that you will continue to be the proverbial thorn in my paw.” Sargeant’s voice dropped, almost as though he was talking to himself. “I can’t say I anticipated such venom.” Blinking, he returned his attention to me. “I fear he’s out to make trouble for me. For you. With that in mind, Olivia, you must take care not to overstep again,” he said. “Is that clear? I will not tolerate shenanigans in this house. I can’t afford to.”
“Shenanigans,” I repeated, deadpan. “You know better.”
He didn’t meet my eyes. “I knew that media attention would be on me, but I’m facing far more scrutiny than I had expected. That was made abundantly clear moments ago. I knew you had a high profile and had established a reputation. What I hadn’t realized was how adversely your actions could affect my position.”
I tried my best to see things from his perspective. He’d just been promoted and within seconds of the official announcement, had been taken to task by a smart-aleck reporter clearly bent on stirring up trouble. “I will do what I did with Paul,” I said, striving to be accommodating. “I will keep you apprised of any unusual activity. Like I did yesterday.”
“See to it that you do,” he said. “I am not a man who enjoys surprises. Especially the sort of surprises you tend to deliver.”
We took a half flight of stairs to the chief usher’s office. I hadn’t been here since Sargeant had moved in, and the change in the room took me by surprise. Where Doug had allowed paperwork to pile up, leaving the area looking haphazard and messy at all times, Sargeant had restored order and class to the small space. The administrative assistant’s desk was clean, too.
“The office looks wonderful,” I said as he took his seat behind the desk. I took one across from him, pulling my toque onto my lap. “How did you get it in shape so fast?”
He ignored the question. “We need to discuss the running of your kitchen.” Opening his calendar, he pulled up a pen and stared at me. “I’d like to make an appointment for such a meeting next week. What is your schedule?”
We were interrupted before I could answer. The two mysterious men from the back of the Family Dining Room walked in, accompanied by two members of the PPD. With almost-perfect precision, they lasered their gazes on me. Sargeant could have been invisible for all they seemed to care.
“Ms. Paras,” one of the agents said, “a moment?”
I assessed them. Not one of the four wore a pleasant expression. “Of course,” I said. Getting up, I shot a confused look to Sargeant.
The chief usher’s brows came together over alert eyes. “We will continue our discussion later,” he said. “You can bring me up to date.”
The agent who’d addressed me took my elbow and spoke to Sargeant. “Don’t count on it.”
I squirmed out of the agent’s grasp as the four tall men walked me across the entrance hall to the Green Room. I knew I was short, but next to these enormous fellows, I felt like a toddler. The area was quiet. Empty. Tour time had ended during the press conference and the floor had been cleared of visitors. One of our maintenance people, buffing the already shiny marble floor, didn’t even look up as we passed.
We arrived to find a uniformed Secret Service agent giving the room a final check to ensure there were no stragglers. When we entered, he looked up in alarm. Without waiting for any of my escorts to say a word, he nodded and ducked out of the room.
When I heard the door shut behind him, I knew I was in trouble.
I fingered my toque, still tight in my hands. “What’s going on?” I asked.
The two PPD agents I knew closed the doors that led to the adjoining rooms, then took positions in front of them. To prevent anyone from walking in, or to prevent me from getting
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