Yes Chef, No Chef - By Susan Willis Page 0,4

to clap. Katie grinned back at everyone and then silently mouthed the words, ‘thank you’ at Francis, Harry, and Alice for all their hard work.

When the speeches were over she stood next to David, discussing some of his new ideas and while she was making sure he knew that she was one hundred per cent behind the campaign, the chief executive approached them with a young man she hadn’t seen before. He was tall and slim with a slick young Tom Cruise look about him and wore a ‘look at me I’m stinking rich and don’t I know it’, expression on his face.

“David!” the chief exec boomed in his loud penetrating voice and shook his hand vigorously, “I’d like to introduce my nephew, Alex.”

David’s face flushed with the recognition, and the friendly greeting - he shook Alex’s hand.

Katie gave the chief exec her warmest smile as David said in reply, “This is Katie Wilkinson, my product development team leader in the dessert section.”

Alex reached across his uncle to take her hand and grasped it so roughly that she almost squealed with shock. He was squeezing her hand so hard she felt her pearl ring digging into her little finger.

“Alexander Jennings,” he said staring intently at her and for one split-second Katie could see in his eyes that he knew just how much pain he was causing to her fingers. Defiantly she met his intense stare and without losing his eye contact she managed to slide her hand out of his vice-like grip. While David was talking to them both she put her hands behind her back and rubbed her stinging finger. Although she felt like wincing in pain, the smile she’d plastered to her face never flagged.

Alex asked. “So you must be the sweet stuff in the section, are you?”

Katie’s mind raced, who was this guy and what on earth was he doing here? She realised the chief exec was staring at her and David was staring at Alex with a mixture of puzzlement and apprehension.

“Sweet stuff. Dessert? Get it?” Alex asked and the three men laughed loudly at the pathetic pun. She could tell David’s laughter was mixed with relief that Katie hadn’t been affronted by the sexist connotations in the comment and that she hadn’t retaliated, and she knew the chef exec was probably too old and naïve to understand the hidden insult. As Alex bored them all with tales from his time at Cambridge University she wondered where he worked and why the chief exec had brought him - he looked more suited to posing in adverts for Calvin Klein boxer shorts than working in food retail. Maybe he worked for one of their competitors like Marks & Spencer or Waitrose she wondered, and found herself staring uncontrollably at him.

In between her and Alex a young waitress with trembling hands managed to topple two glasses of champagne on her tray, and while Katie smiled reassuringly at her and helped her upturn one of the glasses, she noticed Alex sneering arrogantly at the young girl as though she was a piece of dirt under his shoe.

Hmm, what an idiot he really was, she thought, and for the first time that night she was pleased Tim wasn’t with her because he wouldn’t have been able to hide his contempt for this guy. It wasn’t often she took an instant dislike to anyone but she had with Alex and was pleased when, with a joke from the chef exec about how he was trying to get Alex to join the company and make them all pots of lovely money, they said their farewells and moved away to talk to another group of managers. Katie and David were stunned into an uncomfortable silence with neither of them wanting to say exactly what was on their minds. So, mumbling about getting a proper drink of whisky, David headed off to the bar and she re-joined her friends at the table.

After dancing, drinking her fill of champagne, and smiling until her cheeks ached she said to Francis, “Gosh, it’s nearly midnight. I’m going to get a taxi and make a push for home. I don’t want too much of a hang-over in the morning. Can I drop you off first?”

Francis had just returned from the dance floor with Harry where she’d been trying to teach him a jive. Failing miserably they’d had everyone laughing hysterically. Her face was bright red with the exertion and she was sweating profusely, the sleeves on her flowing