The Boyfriend Clause

2

Paris and I stayed up until 2:00AM, getting ready for the event today. Which only gave me about five hours of sleep.

I showered and left my hair down, scrunching my tight curls with a heap of leave-in conditioner.

I put on my uniform of dress pants, a fitted white button down with the company name, and kitten heels. Not the trendiest outfit, but it was work, not a fashion show.

I texted the catering crew that I was on my way, and to meet at the venue, then left for the restaurant to pick up the food.

Even with the budget that this customer has, I still couldn't have predicted a house as lavish as the one I pulled up to. I've catered hundreds of houses and venues but this one takes the cake.

The gate was closed so I pressed the call button.

"State your business." A voice said over the intercom.

"Catering." I said, trying to suppress my anxiety about today.

"Please park up and to your right, around the back of the house."

The gate opened and I slowly drove up the winding driveway.

The back of the house was full with other service vehicles. the Florist and the Event Planner blocked the entrance.

My catering crew pulled up behind me.

I waved to them as they got out. I specifically requested Anthony, Mauricio and Calvin to help me with this venue. I couldn't trust just anyone with a job of this status.

Anthony popped the van doors open. "Should we go in and start setting up?"

I nodded. "Let me find Mr. Coleman first, to see where he wants things."

I stepped inside to a dining room resembling a grand ballroom, bustling with service people setting up.

My eyes scanned the room and landed on a guy in a suit standing oddly still in the middle of the chaos, so I walked up to him.

"Excuse me, do you know where I could find Mr. Coleman?"

He scoffed at me.

"I'm assuming you're looking for my father."

"I'm looking for Thomas Coleman." I clarified.

He nodded, and motioned for me to follow.

"I'm Mason. Thomas Coleman's son."

"I'm Arabella, I'm the Catering Director."

"You're the caterer?" He asked over his shoulder.

I nodded.

He jerked his head back. "What are you? Like 21?"

"22 actually." I responded coolly.

"Same here. Well I turn 23 next month."

I nodded, even though all I could see was the back of his head.

"You look way too young to be the boss." He said, stopping in front of me.

"I'm not the owner of the restaurant, just the catering director."

He shrugged his shoulders, then led me into a room that looked like an office, where a few men were discussing over a clipboard.

"Dad, someone else wants to speak to you."

A tall man in a fitted suit turned around.

"Hi Mr. Coleman. I'm Arabella Scott, I'm with Graze catering."