by Sunshine
Zach sat upright and stared at her.
‘No. Why?’
‘Because when I checked them this morning they were full again. Are you sure Claudia doesn’t have an arrangement to sell them to someone?’
‘I’m absolutely sure. If she did, I would know about it. There’s no point in trying to sell them. They have to be harvested on a commercial scale to be viable and at the moment Claudia’s just dabbling, a hobby really because of her interest in food.’
‘Does anyone else nearby grow cocoa?’
‘There is a fully renovated plantation in the Soufrière hills that grows the crop commercially. They ship it back to their factories in the UK to make their own luxury brand of chocolate. They even offer holidays and tours of the plantation so that guests can see the process of chocolate-making first-hand and then indulge in tasting the finished product. Theirs is a huge enterprise – Claudia’s plantation is only a couple of acres.’
‘Mm, that’s what I thought. It’s strange, that’s all.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Zach, his tone telling her that was the end of her line of enquiry and to change the subject. She wondered why, but a moment later her curiosity vanished as Zach ventured into much more uncomfortable territory. ‘So, doesn’t your boyfriend mind you spending a whole two weeks in the Caribbean without him?’
Indecision floated through Millie’s mind as she wondered whether she could open up her heart, even a smidgeon, to this prickly man, despite their recent rapprochement. She wished there was something a little stronger than bottled water in the hut to give her the strength to deliver the sad synopsis of her life. An Andy’s Blast cocktail would have done nicely – alcohol had become a supportive friend over the last six months and she had regularly found solace in the arms of Ricard and Martell and Gordon.
A feeling of total panic swirled around her body. She waited until her heartbeat calmed from sprint to walking pace and inhaled a deep, steadying breath. Zach was watching her as she wrestled with her demons but had wisely decided to remain silent.
‘I don’t have a boyfriend,’ she began, but she just couldn’t go any further. Her throat was obstructed by a stone the size of a coconut and she felt as though there was a block of concrete squeezing all the air out of her lungs. To cover her distress, she decided to spin the conversation round to Zach. There must be a reason why he had ended up single-handedly running a dilapidated cocoa planation in the tropical rainforest of St Lucia. ‘What about you? How are you finding life running a cocoa plantation?’
Zach gave her one of his familiar eye rolls. He clearly knew an avoidance tactic when he saw one, but he let it pass.
‘Well, it’s a bit different to working in the Cotswolds, that’s for sure. But when Jake’s mother was taken into hospital, he wanted to spend some time back in the UK and asked if I wanted to do a swap for six months. Who could refuse?’
‘But you couldn’t have been a cocoa grower in the Cotswolds,’ she blurted out before thinking her words through, her fuzzy, anxiety-ridden mind beginning to throb with the rising humidity.
‘I’m not a bloody gardener! I’m an estate manager! I have an honours degree in business management and I also have an internationally recognized qualification in horticulture. Tree disease is a constant threat wherever you are in the world. Here in St Lucia, its spread has a devastating environmental impact not only on the rainforest but on the various species it supports. Without constant expert care Claudia and Tim’s fledgling crop of cocoa palms will be decimated.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult your work.’
‘Oh, don’t worry about offending me,’ Zach laughed, relieving the tension that had been building in the tiny wooden room. Dimples appeared around his lips like cute brackets and Millie could see the return of the habitual sarcastic gleam in his mahogany eyes. ‘After all, I’m British. I’ll just tuck your comments away in a crevice of my brain to fester for a while before dissecting their meaning repeatedly until my self-esteem plunges to the bottom of the barrel.’
And there he is, she thought, back to the old Zach, tossing grenades along the conversational path.
It was her turn to remain silent as Zach weighed up whether to share a little more of his personal story with her. He leaned forward and placed his bottle of water carefully onto a beer mat before sitting back into the folds of the sofa. Unlike her, he had no qualms about seeking out her eyes.
‘Everyone has heartaches to deal with at some point in their lives, either their own or from standing on the sidelines of loved ones when they are hurting. Whenever I think of my parents’ divorce I still get a jab of surprise that they’re no longer together. But they’re both doing fine. In fact, I would even hazard a guess that Mum is happier now than she was with Dad over the last few years. She left London and went back to Berryford where she grew up and is surrounded by the same close-knit community of her childhood and a coterie of renewed and new acquaintances. Yes, she has definitely moved on.
‘But in order to do that successfully we all need to look at the man, or woman, in the mirror. Why did I take the job at the plantation? Well, I took it for several reasons; the main one being to escape from the pressure my ex-girlfriend was applying to our relationship for the purchase of an engagement ring. Chloe and I had only been dating for six months and we were chugging along nicely. But, marriage? I knew that wasn’t on the cards and it was only fair to have the “It’s not you, it’s me” conversation straight away.
‘Chloe was devastated, and things got emotional for a few weeks. I promised she could have as long as she needed to find a new place to live. So, when Tim told me he was looking for someone to cover for Jake over here in St Lucia, I jumped at the chance to ditch the reproachful stares and uncomfortable silences and escape. Mind you, it didn’t take Chloe long to move on. She’s just splashed photographs of an over-the-top diamond solitaire all over her Facebook page, accompanied by a ream of selfies of herself and a guy called Mario at the top of the Eiffel Tower where he’s apparently just proposed. I couldn’t be happier for her.’
Millie scrutinized his tanned face for a wrinkle of regret, but there wasn’t one. In that moment, she wished she could swap places with him as it seemed his story was a mirror image of her own. She knew exactly how Chloe must have felt, although she and Luke had been together for a lot longer and if she believed Zach’s version of events, no one else had been involved in their break-up. But she took huge encouragement from the fact that his ex-girlfriend had found love again and had the ring to prove it.
Her spirits ratcheted up another notch. She was amazed at the steps forward she had taken since arriving in the Caribbean. All she had to do now was dip her toe in the water of the dating game and she could label herself as cured of the melancholy and hurt that had descended on the day Luke had made his surprise announcement. However, despite the emotional progress she had made, she still wasn’t ready to share the details with anyone, even Zach who had just bared his heart to her.
‘Come on. The rain’s stopped now. Fancy a drink at the Purple Parrot on the way back? Or are you champing at the bit to see what Fitz and his men have been doing today?’
‘Well, yes, I am, but I also feel guilty about leaving Ella to do all the recipe testing today while I indulge in an undeserved day off trekking through a tropical paradise.’
‘I told you, Ella was more than happy to spend the day whipping up a plethora of Caribbean culinary masterpieces. In fact, it was her idea that we rounded off our day sightseeing with a customary drink at her favourite bar.’
‘Okay, since you put it like that, a drink would be great, thanks.’
She pushed herself to her feet too quickly. Her straw bag toppled from her shoulder, spilling its contents onto the floor at her feet.
‘I wish you could blame your constant clumsiness on the potent Caribbean rum, but we haven’t had any!’
When Millie had collected her belongings, they made their way back to where Zach had left the R
oadster, the rain-soaked vegetation slashing at their knees and shins and sprinkling a shower of raindrops onto their shoulders. The air was still rich with humidity and the fragrance of damp soil hit the back of her throat. A silken veil of vapour lingered between the ferns on either side of the pathway as the birds resumed their afternoon sonata in the canopy overhead. To Millie, it was as close to her idea of the Garden of Eden as it was possible to get and she was glad she had shared the experience with Zach.
‘I’ve really enjoyed our excursion. Thanks for bringing me here.’
‘Next time it’s the Sulphur Springs and mud baths. You can be as messy and clumsy as you like there. Just don’t forget to bring your costume!’
Chapter Twelve
They pulled into a parking space outside the Purple Parrot. It was four-thirty and only a smattering of the customers were still loitering over their rum cocktail or Red Stripe before returning to the beach for their final dose of sunshine. Zach grabbed his usual table at the corner of the veranda and whilst they waited for Lottie to take their order, they watched Dylan and Ryan drag their boat into the shallows and help two giggling girls to step down from the deck.
‘Hi, Lottie. Two Red Stripes, please.’
‘Oh, could I have a lemonade instead?’ asked Millie, keen to keep a clear head. She would need to inspect the workmen’s progress when she got back.
‘Coming right up.’
A couple of minutes later, Lottie set down their drinks on the scarred table and joined them, dejection scrawled across her pretty features, her eyes lowered as she picked the label from her beer bottle. Then, when it was completely torn away, she fiddled with the brightly coloured string bracelets around her wrists, her shoulders curved in to her chest. Not the go-to demeanour Millie expected of a young girl who had chosen to stay on after her gap year in an idyllic paradise.
‘Is everything okay, Lottie?’ Zach asked, catching Millie’s eye and raising his eyebrows when Lottie slammed her elbows onto the table like a petulant toddler, cupping her chin in her palms.
‘No. Actually, I’m thinking of going home.’
‘What? To Anisha’s?’
‘Not to Anisha’s,’ she snapped, thumping her beer bottle on the table, casting her hundredth glance in the direction of Dylan’s Dive Shack where Dylan and Ryan were still laughing and jostling with the two young holidaymakers.
‘Ah,’ said Zach, understanding immediately.
Lottie flashed him a scowl, challenging him to vocalize her distress, but Zach wasn’t stupid enough to attempt to charter those turbulent waters. He, and everyone else at the Purple Parrot who cared to study Lottie’s behaviour, knew the only reason Lottie had stayed on in St Lucia was Dylan. She had learned to dive, learned to sail the Nigella, and joined him and Ryan – whenever her shifts allowed – at beach parties, barbeques and charity events. She followed him everywhere.
Lottie let out a ragged sigh. ‘I’ve spoken to Andy. I’m going back to Cardiff. I told him there’s no point in me sticking around here. I’m obviously wasting my time.’
‘What did Andy say?’ asked Zach.
‘What do you think he said? It’s one of his busiest times. Obviously he can’t rely on Marc – he’s useless. He’s never on time, always messes up the orders and he doesn’t just flirt with the customers, if you get my drift. The restaurant is struggling, too.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, you know…’ Lottie twisted in her seat, staring at the empty bottle in her hand as if wondering where its contents had disappeared to. ‘With the recession and everything. Takings are down, expenses are up. I told Andy that he should dock Marc’s wages every time he’s late, but he doesn’t want to lose him.’
Lottie rolled her eyes. Millie marvelled at the fact that Dylan could possibly have failed to notice her beauty. Fresh, youthful skin tinted to a pale honey hue, a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and the cutest chin.
‘How’s Anisha?’ asked Zach. ‘What will she do with the studio if you leave?’
‘I don’t know, but things are the same at her shop. Takings are down. Tourists are still buying her sarongs and bikinis, but the local souvenirs aren’t shifting. Even sales of Travis’s gorgeous artwork and carvings have been slow this year. And, for what it’s worth, Anisha agrees with me. Men are just not worth the effort.’
‘No progress with Leon then?’
‘No. I’ve told her she should move on too.’ Lottie turned to Millie. ‘Do you have someone special back home?’
‘No, there’s no one special. I’ve just come out of a long-term relationship, so no dates since… well, since April.’
Lottie’s face brightened as she scooted to the edge of her rattan chair and shot a mischievous look at Zach. Millie sent up a swift prayer to her guardian angel that Lottie wasn’t about to suggest Zach. She would have died of embarrassment. ‘Well, we’ll just have to put an end to that run of luck, won’t we?’
‘Hang on, Lottie, I…’
‘Just a date. I’m not suggesting you rush off and get engaged.’
Clearly Lottie’s earlier despondency about all things love- and romance-related had floated from her mind on the wings of Cupid. Millie looked across to Zach for his support but he simply shrugged and leaned back in his chair ready to enjoy the show.
‘No, thanks, Lottie. I’m only over here to supervise the kitchen renovations for the Paradise Cookery School. And Ella and I will be spending all our time triple-testing the chocolate recipes for the first classes as well as devising menus for the guests.’
‘But you won’t be working on the menus in the evenings, will you? Mm, but who…?’ She twisted her lips, her chin still resting in her palm as she stared out into the bay. Millie could almost see the cogs rotating.
‘Hey, what time do you call this, Marc!’ They heard Andrew’s sharp tone slice through the humid air from behind the bar.
‘Chill, man,’ came the reply. ‘It’s only six o’clock.’
‘Yes, and your shift starts at five. Lottie’s had to cover for you again.’
‘Lottie doesn’t mind. She loves being here. It gives her an excuse to moon after our resident surfer dude.’
‘Table five need their bill.’ Andrew had clearly decided not to push it. Having just had the conversation with Lottie about going home, he probably didn’t want to risk losing two members of staff in one day.
Millie turned her head as Marc appeared on the veranda, stretching his muscular arms over his head as he took in the view of the ocean. Her heart did a somersault and her eyes widened as she took the opportunity to survey him at close quarters. Standing six foot two in his boat shoes, Marc had biceps as firm as his stomach muscles, which were just visible as his white Armani T-shirt rode up his abdomen. He had the looks of a matinee idol from the 1950s. His hair, black as tar, had been carefully gelled into a perfect quiff at his forehead and his come-to-bed eyes drew Millie’s attention immediately, sending spasms of desire through her veins.
Unfortunately, Zach had noticed her reaction. He smirked, causing a flush of heat to flood into her face which, coupled with the warmth of the sun blazing overhead, was not a good look. Beetroot was definitely not the new shade of facial foundation.
‘Hi, ladies. Thanks for covering for me, Lot. I’ll make it up to you.’ Marc bent forward to brush a kiss on Lottie’s cheek and offer his palm to Zach, who rolled his eyes at being included in the female greeting. Marc then turned his attention to Millie and switched on the charm. ‘I don’t think we’ve been introduced. I’m Marc Fisher.’
‘Marc, this is Amelia Harper. She’s overseeing the renovations at the Croft villa,’ said Zach.
‘Hi, Amelia.’
‘Please. Call me Millie.’ She smiled as she met Marc’s eyes, framed by the longest lashes she had seen on a man.
‘Millie is also the supplier of those dainty little cupcakes that Andy has been handing out to the clientele with their coffee – perfect if you’re hosting a bi
rthday party for Barbie’s pet unicorn. And careful you don’t upset her. She bites.’
‘I do not bite!’
Zach leaned forward to deliver a stage whisper to Marc. ‘Don’t mind her – she’s French. Ooops, no, sorry, sorry.’ He held up his palm to Millie’s face, tossing her a mischievous look. ‘Half French.’
‘Which half? Top or bottom?’
Millie saw Lottie shoot a glance at Zach, her eyebrows raised in question, before flicking her eyes over to Marc – she had clearly forgotten about her anxiety over Dylan’s flirtation. The corners of her lips turned up with mischief and Millie widened her eyes and shook her head to signal a silent warning to her new friend not to go there, but Lottie ignored her.
‘That’s three shifts in the last week that you’ve been late, Marc. You owe me.’
‘Hey, chill, Lottie – a guy’s got to do what a guy’s got to do.’
‘And did that involve saying farewell to that Swedish blonde I saw you leave the restaurant with last night?’
‘No. I had some business matters to attend to, if you must know. Anyway, I should get to work before Andy spontaneously combusts. Bye, Millie. Great to meet you.’ And he strode to the bar, studiously avoiding the stony expression on Andrew’s face.
Millie felt herself relax. Marc was handsome and he was definitely her type. But whilst she had decided that she might be ready to start dating again, she didn’t want to plunge into those turbulent waters in St Lucia.
Lottie jumped from her chair. ‘I’ve got to go, too. I promised Anisha I’d cover for her in the shop for a couple of hours before I go out tonight. There’s a party on at the Blue Oyster if you fancy coming along?’
‘Not for me, thanks, Lottie,’ said Zach. ‘Got some work to catch up on for tomorrow. You should go, though, Millie.’
‘No, thanks, Lottie. I want to get back to see how the kitchen fitters have got on today. There’s bound to be a mountain of cleaning to catch up on.’
‘Hang on a minute then.’