Fresh Temptation

goodies to take home tonight. Leftovers were a blessing for her bank account, but a curse for her waistline. Since taking this job, she had gone from a size ten to a size fourteen, but that was the least of her concerns. She ate what she could, when she could. Tonight, she and some of the other servers had already polished off several small trays of heavy hors d’oeuvres, courtesy of the manager.
    And her pants felt even tighter.
    She chuckled to herself and popped a mini-quiche into her mouth, from the tray she was preparing. They were going to make a delicious breakfast tomorrow.
    She was just about to start on the next tray when her supervisor, Keith, walked in.
    “Need you out front, Cara.” He groaned. “Sandy just went home with the stomach flu.”
    “Great.” Cara nodded, praying silently that she hadn’t already been exposed to new germs to bring home to Isaac.
    Seconds later, she walked out of the kitchen with an empty tray and started to clear dishes from tables full of guests who were finished with the first course. As usual, she was amazed by the excess surrounding her. Why do women need to wear prom dresses to raise money to fight poverty? This was so not her scene. Rich people eating rich food, having boring conversations about rich things. Most of them didn’t make eye contact with her when she asked, “May I take this?” They just nodded and went about their evening, chatting with the people beside them. She smiled despite their arrogance. Some of the men wore cuff links that surely would have paid off her entire credit card debt.
    On her third round of cleanup, a few of the guests spoke to her, making polite small talk.
    An elderly woman touched her arm. “Could you please tell me the name of tonight’s chef, dear? This food is simply divine.”
    “Um…” Cara shut her eyes tight for second, trying to remember. She had only heard it once, during the staff meeting before set up, and she was distracted with the task of hiding her cell phone. There was indeed a fancy chef on staff that night. From what Cara understood, he supplied the recipes and hung around in case one of the guests wanted to pay him their compliments. She saw him for approximately five seconds before he headed off to the terrace for the evening to smoke cigarettes. But she suddenly remembered. “Um…Andrew Trafalgar!” She calmed her voice and repeated herself. “Yes, Andrew Trafalgar.”
    The woman turned to her husband, nodding. “We’ll have to keep him in mind, won’t we?” She smiled and gave Cara’s hand a warm pat. “Do give him my compliments, please. The name’s Betsy Kisch.”
    Cara grinned, hiding her tightly clenched teeth. “Yes. Betsy Kisch. I’ll remember.” Sure, like I have nothing better to do than to pay your compliments to that jackass doing nothing but sitting on his ass outside?
    Betsy turned to the handsome man on her other side. “Smashing first course, wouldn’t you agree?”
    The young, dark-haired man spoke dramatically. “Absolutely, Bets. Smashing . How in the world did you read my mind?” Quickly, he cocked a brow and gave Cara a wink that made her chuckle.
    Betsy Kisch gave him a playful slap on his wrist and burst into laughter. She knew she was being mocked.
    Appreciating his sarcasm in the midst of this stuffy crowd, Cara asked a question just as a gorgeous redhead took the vacant seat beside him. “Sir, would you like me to forward your compliments to Mr. Trafalgar as well?”
    “Sure. Victor Barboza.” He gave the redhead a short, sideways glance, then looked up at Cara. “But I won’t be needing the services of a chef or a caterer anytime in the foreseeable future. No big events coming up.”
    The redhead stared straight ahead. “That’s enough, Victor.”
    Cara let out a nervous giggle, her wrist aching from the tray of dirty dishes she supported with one hand. Tension was unmistakable between these two strangers. “Okay then. I’ll pass the compliment along.”
    As soon as the words left her mouth, her phone vibrated in her pocket and her smile disappeared.
    Isaac.
    Tears filled her eyes. I’m the worst mother in the world. If only she weren’t so desperate for this paltry paycheck she would have taken her sweet, sick toddler to the emergency room herself. She briefly scanned the room, sickened by the decadence. These people had no idea how easy their lives were compared to hers. Surely their children wanted for nothing, especially something as simple