She took off, trying to ignore the fact that there was something a little too knowing about his expression. He couldn’t possibly have guessed what she’d done, could he? No, of course not. As long he remained far away from that kitchen, there was no way he could figure out that she hadn’t prepared every dish herself.

Jenny was pulling aluminum pans of food out of paper bags when Janet got back to the kitchen.

“Gina said to warm the lasagna again for a few minutes before you serve it. I’ve already turned the oven on low. The salad’s in that package. She put the dressing on the side, so you could toss it in your bowl.” She reached into another bag and pulled out a loaf of Italian bread wrapped in foil. “Garlic bread. It goes in the oven, too.”

Janet rolled her eyes at Jenny’s instructions. “I could have figured that much out for myself.”

“Who would guess?” Jenny quipped. “So how’d you keep Mr. Adams out of here?”

“I had him fixing the leak in the bathroom.”

Jenny grinned. “Good for you. It’s about time he sees what it’s like to work for free.”

“I don’t think he thought of it quite that way. He was doing me a favor.” She pointed to the bowl of frosting. “The cake should be cool enough by now. You ice it while I toss the salad.”

Twenty minutes later they were seated in the dining room. Janet’s heart was in her throat as Harlan took his first bite of salad. Would he be able to tell she hadn’t prepared it? It was only lettuce, tomatoes and a few radishes. Surely he wouldn’t suspect that even that much had been beyond her skill.

“Delicious,” he said. “Jenny, I think you sold your mother short when you said she couldn’t cook.”

Janet shot a warning look at her daughter. Jenny shrugged.

“It’s pretty hard to ruin a bunch of lettuce and some tomatoes,” she retorted, avoiding Janet’s gaze.

The lasagna was an equally big hit. “Can’t think when I’ve had any better,” Harlan enthused. “It’s every bit as good as Gina DiPasquali’s.”

Janet groaned and covered her face. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that the jig was up. “You know, don’t you?”

“Know what?” Harlan replied, trying to sound innocent and failing miserably.

“That Jenny picked up the salad, bread and lasagna from DiPasquali’s.”

He winked at Jenny. “Did she now?”

“How did you know?” Janet demanded.

“Saw her running in the front door of the restaurant as I drove through town,” he finally admitted as Jenny chuckled.