by Anne Ashby
****
Jase had been surprised at the improvement in the new waitress’s service when he was in the dining room earlier chatting to guests. He dismissed his earlier concern about her employment. However now she caught his eye again. Not because she’s doing anything wrong.
Jase swallowed. His attention had little to do with anything except hormones. She was so very attractive. And the dark uniform, possibly a little on the tight side, accentuated her curves very nicely, thank you. He didn’t even try to look away when she glanced in his direction and their gazes locked. Time ceased as his pulse rate quickened.
Her smirk as she hoisted a tray of wine flutes up to her shoulder irritated him. Clearly she found his regard amusing. His lips tightened.
He kept his narrowed gaze on her as, after what seemed like an intense but short conversation with George’s head waitress, she headed across the floor toward Karin Laurie’s table.
Within a couple of paces Jase detected movement on Debra’s tray. A faint wobble that experience had taught him would soon increase and cause a debacle. The breath caught in Jase’s throat. Disaster loomed.
Well before his sprinting legs could take him anywhere near close enough to prevent the shambles, as if in slow motion, the tray tipped first one way and then the other. The flutes took on lives of their own and acting like lemmings they fell to their death on and around the table of the hotel’s owner.
Karin Laurie’s guests both leapt to avoid the cascade of red wine and orange juice but she stayed remarkably still after an initial shocked jolt. Sliding to a stop beside her, Jase was horrified to see her clutching her leg, red of an alarmingly different hue from the wine slowly oozed between her fingers.
Snatching a white handkerchief from his top pocket he knelt beside her, uncertain whether he should touch the woman. With a wry grimace she took the offered cloth and placed it against a cut close to her ankle.
Jase shot a murderous glare at the reason for the sudden silence throughout the restaurant. Now the centre of attention, the waitress stood stock still, her eyes and mouth open in dismay.
“Get this cleaned up,” he snapped.
“The tray...” Her eyes were on their guests. “I…I…”
“Get!”
Thank God a competent waitress appeared next to Debra and whispered something in her ear which sent the klutz tearing off toward the kitchen.
“I’ll have reception summon a doctor, Mrs. Laurie. I can’t apologise—”
“Don’t be silly, dear boy.” She dabbed the cut and peered down at it. “It’s only a scratch.”
George supervised the clearing away of the debris while Jase escorted the group to a nearby table. The return of the culprit with a container for the broken glass drew his glare again.
Her guilty glance in his direction slid away as soon as their gazes touched. As he continued to placate the guests, furious whispering hummed between the maitre d’ and his waitresses.
Karin touched his arm. “Jason, stop glaring daggers at that poor girl. It was an accident. Relax.”
Jase threw his head back. Relax? When one of his staff had just doused guests with an interesting mix of red wine and orange juice? The colours were blended on Joyce Harper’s white top and all over Karin Laurie’s expensive cream skirt. Not to mention the possibility the glass could have slit an artery instead of making a slight nick on her ankle.
“Is she new? I haven’t noticed her before?”
“Yes,” he muttered. “And likely to be very short-term, I suspect.”
“It was an accident, Jason. Don’t harangue the poor girl. It could happen to anyone.”
Not in my hotel. His expression must have conveyed his continuing anger at the laxness of his employee.
“Look at it like this, Jason.” He couldn’t believe her eyes actually twinkled. Sitting there with liquid sprinkled all over her lovely clothes and blood oozing from her leg, her eyes sparkled with merriment. “If anyone had to have a tray of drinks upended over top of them, isn’t it fortunate it was me?”
Some of Jase’s ire trickled away. If she can look on this mess with humour...
Debra’s stilted apology when she approached the table some moments later resurrected Jase’s annoyance. While her words of apology were acceptable, her tone and body language could only be interpreted as haughty.
Thankfully, Mrs. Laurie didn’t appear perturbed by the assertive nature of their newest waitress. She sent the girl away with a kind smile.
After assuring himself that Mrs. Laurie and her guests were comfortable, Jase picked up the first aid kit he’d had delivered and employed, and marched toward the kitchen. Where is that Debbie?
He sighted her, apparently helping the pastry chef. Good! George has sent her where she can do less harm. Her body stiffened as if she sensed his approach. He stopped at the pastry kitchen door.
“Debbie, a word please.”
Her face tightened, but she stalked toward him, her head high.
Before he could open his mouth on all he intended to say to her, his cell phone rang.
As the on-duty maintenance man blurted out a problem with plumbing on the third floor, and the possible flooding which he feared might eventuate, Jase was torn. The urgency of the plumbing matter quickly asserted itself as Jase’s priority. He muttered, “Another time,” before rushing to the third floor.
****
“The boss has his eye on you,” George sidled up and whispered in her ear as Debra picked up a full coffee pot.
“Oh God, not again.” Last night’s fiasco blazoned across her mind in glorious Technicolour.
“Forget last night,” George ordered. “Just don’t give yourself away.”
Debra took an unsteady, deep breath. “Like tipping coffee over someone’s head?” she whispered back.
“Yeah, that would do it.”
“Or argue when a guest complains about the food?”
“Not in my dining room.”
“I’ll try not to injure anyone else.”
“I’d appreciate that.” His face was deadpan but Debra caught the teasing twinkle in his eyes.
George was an amenable boss. He managed to kid and joke with his staff, teasing them unmercifully at times. His being privy to her real identity didn’t preclude Debra from the teasing edge of his tongue.
She sensed his respect for her was no greater than his respect for any of his staff. She filed away George’s obvious potential for advancement in the back of her mind for later.
Right now she had to get all the way across the dining room with two heavy coffee pots and fill up numerous cups for the Japanese guests sitting near the windows—all without tripping over, dropping anything, spilling coffee, or upsetting guests. All with Jase’s eyes locked on her.
Ignore him, she commanded as she gingerly poured coffee from the full pot to the first of the guests enjoying their breakfast. Or seeing that isn’t working so well, imagine him in his underwear.
Her hand wobbled and coffee slurped over the cup and splashed onto the tablecloth. Hastily placing the pot on an empty table behind her, she grabbed a napkin and urgently mopped up the spill, apologising in fluent Japanese as she did so.
The delighted smiles from around the table helped restore her confidence and she managed to serve their coffee without further incident.
A glance across to where Jase stood, now talking with George, caused her hand to tremble again and her pulse rate galloped until she’d torn her eyes away. Imagining Jase McEwan in a pair of tight little briefs did nothing to ease her agitation.
Struggling to calm her heightened breathing she continued to refill coffees and express her hope the guests’ ongoing journey would be enjoyable, before returning to the kitchen.
“George wasn’t aware you spoke Japanese.” The words close to her ear were almost an accusation.
Debra replaced the empty coffee pots on a nearby trolley and turned. She blinked a couple of times and was relieved to see Jase was again fully clothe
d.
Debra’s hackles rose at his subtle suggestion she might be hiding something. “The question never arose.”
The force and unexpectedness of Jase’s smile robbed her of intelligent thought. His mouth opened in a dazzling show of perfect white teeth highlighting the natural tan of his skin. Her breath caught somewhere deep in her chest and all she could do was stare.
“Are you fluent?”
Debra’s head nodded and she croaked an explanation. “I did a student exchange when I was in high school.” What’s the matter with me? Take control. Her voice strengthened. “I spent a year in Kyoto.”
“Another language is a great asset, particularly in tourism. It could help you climb the ladder if you wanted a career in the industry.”
Debra listened with rising dismay. After Cathy’s championing of his methods, she guessed Jase was about to suggest training or courses or—her heart raced like a startled rabbit—maybe even private tutoring.
“Ah—umm.” Think, think, she demanded of her brain.
“Debra, table four needs clearing please.”
Never before had Debra been so relieved to hear another voice. She ignored Jase and hurried away to comply with George’s order. Catching his wink as she hurried past him with hands full of dirty dishes moments later she grinned in response. George had saved her from some awkward explanations.
****
Debra wasn’t due back on duty until four. While eating a leisurely lunch in the staff dining room, the object of her thoughts stopped beside her table.
“Mind if I join you?” Jase’s smile was filled with confidence. As if no woman had ever refused such a request.
More composed than she’d been earlier, she nodded. Time spent with Jase, particularly at his instigation, was the ideal way to determine his contribution to the hotel’s fiscal deterioration.
Debra studied him as he removed his meal from the tray and set the plate on the table. Her stomach squirmed as the breath caught in her throat. He was a striking man. So much more devastating close up than she could ever have imagined. Without the sporting prowess on the rugby field that had rocketed him to international stardom, he would still turn heads in any company.
When he caught her ogling him so intently she blurted out the first thing to come to mind. “When did you break your nose? Rugby’s such a violent pastime, I always thought.”
No need for him to know she often watched matches and had seen him play many times. “I suppose they stuffed your nostrils with cotton wool and you kept playing regardless?”
Jase threw back his head and laughed. “I wish.”
His smile turned her insides all gooey while her brain chastised them for being so soppy.
His fingers touched the bump. “I’d have coped better with the pain then. No, my sister belted me with a cricket bat when I was eight.”
With raised eyebrows Debra murmured unsympathetically, “I’m sure she had good reason.”
“She always maintained so,” Jase tucked into his meal. After a couple of mouthfuls he smiled again and confided. “I wouldn’t give her my ice-cream.”
“Oh.” When she detected a twinkle in his eye she caught on. “I’m sure she would give a different account.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Anyway, it makes a good story. So what did you do before you arrived here, Debbie,” Jase asked.
Glaring at his use of the hated version of her name, he continued before she could suggest he use her correct name. “It’s obvious you haven’t had much experience in the hospitality industry.”
Her face warmed. “I worked in an office.” After all, that was the truth.
Thank goodness he accepted that without questions.
“Why Riversleigh? Why Southland? It’s a bit of a change after Wellington.”
She’d rehearsed for these types of questions. “My mother suggested it. She was born in Southland and always goes on about the place. I thought I’d come and have a look around.”
“Fair enough. What do you think of the place so far?”
“I haven’t seen much yet. But it seems very nice.”
Jase feigned outrage. “Nice! I’ll have you know nice is much too insipid a word to use down here.”
Debra forgot her reason for welcoming his presence. Forgot she was supposed to be ferreting information from him. Forgot he might even be ripping off the company rather than merely mismanaging the hotel.
She responded to him like a hibiscus flower responds to sunshine. Talk of Riversleigh and Southland, the affect of the growing dairy business on the area, the job situation for school leavers. She participated in each topic he introduced with questions and honest views of her own.
Their discussion became even more animated as they launched into an argument about a recent report on government spending. Finally agreeing to disagree, Jase chuckled at her unwillingness to concede to his opposite point of view. “I bet you were in the debating team at school.”
Debra bit the inside of her cheeks and dipped her head, hoping to screen her embarrassment.
He reached across the table and touched her fingers before shooting his hand back beneath the table. The air was so filled with sudden tension Debra feared the buzz in her ears might be the static passing between them. “Don’t be embarrassed.”
His lopsided smile grabbed at her insides, warming them, then roasting them to fever pitch. “You’re a very stimulating conversationalist.”
Stimulating conversationalist! Her heart slowed its sprint as abruptly as a charging bull encountering a solid wooden fence and settled back to a boring thump-thump-thump. Not exactly the words a woman wanted an attractive man to whisper in her ear.
Settle down, she warned herself. So I enjoyed the half hour we spent chatting. So what? He’s a stimulating conversationalist, too. Regarding him now, she no longer saw him as the famous All Black but as a man—a man who was stealing into her thoughts a little too often.
“I did have a reason for joining you today.” Jase’s comment sent a further crack splintering through Debra’s earlier euphoria. So he hadn’t casually sought her out. He’s probably been bored silly with my chatter.
She drew back and thrust out her chin as her face burned. Stupid woman! What had she been thinking? Her personality didn’t attract men, especially not attractive men like Jase McEwan.
“If I can clear your absence with George, would you like to come to Queenstown with me on Wednesday?”
Moments ago she would have leapt at the offer, but now her intellect was in charge. He had to have another reason, rather than a burning desire for her company. His next words confirmed this.
“Southland is encouraging tourists to take in the Southern Scenic route rather than just doing Queenstown, Milford Sound, and back to Dunedin. We’re having some success but its slow catching on, especially during the winter months.”
He slid his empty plate aside and leaned forward. She couldn’t doubt his enthusiasm. “Here at Riversleigh we’re trying something else. I’m meeting a small group of Japanese businessmen in Queenstown tomorrow, escorting them around the Southern route and then touting the resort as an ideal venue for meetings, conferences, etcetera, as well as showing them we know how to relax and pamper them. I know enough Japanese to get by, and I’m sure they’ll have an interpreter with them, but if I showed up with a fluent speaker from my staff...” He raised his eyebrows.
“It would make you look good,” Debra supplied dryly.
“Exactly.” Jase nodded, showing no embarrassment at his subterfuge.
“So what happens when they get here next year expecting fluency on staff?”
“And you won’t be here,” Jase’s comment was a statement, not a question. “We can cater with basic French, German and Japanese for guests already. The local high school is helping but I wouldn’t call any of us fluent yet. We’re all studying to get better.”
Thrusting aside the hurt she refused to acknowledge, Debra once again became the consummate businesswoman. Jase had inc
luded himself in this endeavour to extend the hotel’s service.
Debra’s fingers rubbed an imaginary mark on the table while her mind digested this. Points for his personality had waned, but professionally they were increasing in his favour.
“So would you like to come? It’s not a requirement of the job or anything. You can refuse.” As she remained silent, he dipped his head and muttered, “You’d have a chance to see some of the area.”
A day in his company, even with Japanese businessmen, would give her a deeper insight into his character—only to ascertain his involvement with any wrong-doing at the hotel, of course.
“Will Ms. Murphy be going too?”
For a second, before he managed to hide it, derision flashed across his face. “No, she’s tied up with other meetings. It’ll just be me and you.”
Ahh. So this was Jase’s idea. It might be an attempt to up the room rate, which Madeline Murphy either disapproved of, or rejected out of hand. Interesting...
“Okay, I’ll come. I’d never get that far on my days off. It would be good to have a look around.”
“And put you in your mother’s good books?”
“Oh, yes. It will definitely do that.” Debra grimaced at the thought of Karin’s reaction.
Not only was she going to see some of her mother’s beloved Southland countryside, she’d be spending the day with an attractive man. The same attractive man Karin knew she’d had a teenage crush on. Sadly he didn’t know Debra existed, except as a useful language tool.
Chapter Four
Hidden away in her room, dictating work to her personal assistant via her cell phone, Debra leapt off the bed when her door burst open after a very perfunctory knock.
“Come on.” Meg was dressed in jeans and a denim jacket, their tightness showing her body thin almost to the point of anorexia. “We’re going to Cathy’s for the afternoon.”
She opened the tiny wardrobe, yanked a jacket from a hanger and threw it across at Debra. “Hurry up. They’re waiting for us.”
Still reeling at the audacity of the woman, Debra made no move to comply.
“Do you want them to leave without us?”