Who was he kidding, of course he did.
The thought of waking up beside her every morning, seeing her head on the pillow beside him, warmed him from within.
Hot on the heels of this realisation came the multitude of accompanying problems.
He couldn’t have a relationship with her, a member of staff. That was a fact. There was a tentative trust amongst the staff for him, this news would rekindle the same low morale that he had been working so hard to eradicate. He couldn’t compromise his hard work or his good name. Could they get away with having a relationship in private? He shook his head irritably. Of course they couldn’t, that was a recipe for disaster. Plus, he had too much respect for her to ask her to do that. What was he going to do, dammit anyway.
Out of his peripheral vision, he espied some chamois coming to graze in the nearby meadows. Slowly moving his head so as not to alert them to his presence, he looked at them fully. It was a funny animal, neither goat nor buffalo, but rather a cross between the two that was found only in New Zealand.
The meadow it moved in was simply breath-taking, banks of thigh high wild flowers streaming to the west in the wind, a riot of yellows, blues, pinks, violets with tall strong grass breaking them up. The dense green background of the forest provided the perfect foil of dark shadowy shapes to the bright gyrating dance of the flowers.
He didn’t know what to do. Unless he wanted to propose to her right now to show everybody he wasn’t like Mulberry, he couldn’t have a relationship with a member of staff. And as much as he liked Pippa, proposing was too daunting a prospect to consider.
He would just have to get over her. He would just have to shut his heart to her. He could do that. Couldn’t he?
• • •
Pippa boarded the ship, breathing a sigh of relief that she had made it back without Jonathon catching up with her. Not wanting anyone to see her — with swollen eyes, bedraggled hair — nor to pick up on the air of sadness she was sure she carried like a mantle around her shoulders, she hurried to her suite.
It smelt of him, and the tears that she had been holding back since seeing the ship now threatened to overwhelm her. From the moment she had looked up to see him standing darkly in the doorway, backlit by bright sunlight, her stomach had twisted with the knowledge that she had made a fool of herself. What really hurt was the fact that he had given the impression he was interested in more. Had he deliberately gone out of the way to hurt her? Was he laughing at her now, or thinking he’d give her a few days to cool off then try his luck again as she was so damn gullible?
And had he known about her affair with Marcus Longbottom? She had imagined so, came to the wrong conclusion from his oh-so-knowing looks, which she knew now to have been about Mulberry. He didn’t know about Marcus. Her heart sank even further. Should he ever find out, no doubt he would think her hypocritical in her reaction. What a mess.
Don’t think about it. Just get on with your day.
Jean-Pierre was leaving the ship that day, and she wanted to have a last talk with him. A small thrill ran through her at the thought of being solely in charge of her first kitchen, but it was dampened by her mind playing tricks on her. As she had felt the excitement, for a fraction of a second, her mind had assumed it was because of Jonathon and she had felt happiness pierce her like a ray of sunshine through the gloom — only to have the darkness descend fully as she realised anew what an arse she had made of herself.
Here she was thinking about him again. To work.
It was only when she reached the kitchens, that her tightly held jaw unclenched and she embraced the distraction work provided. Fiona appeared, complete with clipboard.
“Hey, Pippa, did you have a nice hike? You look … ” She paused whilst she looked at Pippa with sharp eyes. “Different, I guess.”
The desire to open up and get some sympathy from Fiona nearly threatened to overwhelm Pippa. As it was, her eyes filled with tears at the mere thought of a hug from her.
“It was fine. I’ll talk to you later, if I may.” Blinking away the tears, she looked at Fiona properly. “So what did you all do? Did you have a good night?” Distract me, please.
“Yeah, it was great, we just ended up in the nearest pubs. And you know the Kiwis, only too happy to welcome strangers. Actually, the night turned into an impromptu leaving do for Jean-Pierre. Which brings me along to the reason I’m here — we’re holding a proper do for him in Akaroa. Are you coming?”
“I’ll come straight after service.” A thought struck her. “If he’s leaving, does that mean there’s a spare bed in staff accommodation?”
“It does, but it’s in the men’s quarters. Don’t tell me you want to swap your life of luxury for one of squalor?” Fiona started laughing but stopped when she saw Pippa looking grim. “Aw, what’s up honey?”
“I’ll tell you later, I’ll be a wreck if I go into it now. Except for one thing — I need to be out of that suite. I don’t care where I sleep, it could be anywhere except there.”
“You can’t sleep in with the men though.” Fiona glanced away, unseeing. “But I’ll tell you what. As David and I are senior members of staff, we have a twin away from the bigger staff rooms. We sleep in two singles pushed together. I’ll ask him to move in to Jean-Pierre’s place and you can share with me.”
“You’d be a life saver, Fiona, are you sure?”
“Course I am, David won’t mind at all either. It’ll do us good to have some space for a change. We don’t have an en-suite though, so be prepared for queues!”
“I’d even love queues, the mood I’m in at the moment. Can I move in today between shifts?”
“Absolutely! Great, I’m going to get lots of glossy magazines when we’re on shore, and we can spend hours sitting up and gossiping. I’m really looking forward to it.”
“Thanks so much.” Pippa leaned over and hugged her friend. “I’ll see you about four, in your place.”
“Our place!” Fiona winked at her and carried on to advertise the leaving do to the rest of the staff.
Jean-Pierre came over to her and put his arm around her shoulders. “Bonjour, Peepa. You are excited, non?”
“Oui, Jean-Pierre, very much so, and a little bit nervous too.”
“Non non non, you are not to worry, you are a vraiment good chef, and the Coral restaurant will be busier than ever it ’as been.”
“Thanks, Jean-Pierre, I’ll miss you.”
“One thing I ’ave to remind you about is the Gala Dinner on the last night. You will ’ave a full restaurant, all two hundred seats ’ave been booked. I don’t need to tell you this, but I will anyway. The waiting staff can be slow, so you need to be at the service counter all the time, making sure all five courses are taken out on time. So whatever you are overseeing will all ’ave to be done by five P.M. as the customers seat at five-thirty.”
“Thanks for the tip.” Pippa didn’t want to examine her feelings about the dinner, for she was sure she would uncover a mass of nerves wriggling around like worms. Five courses for two hundred people was one thousand plates of food. Yikes.
“All the ordering has been done, and the fresh supplies arrive on the morning. Now, ’ave you any questions?”
“Non, merci! Only, can I have your mobile number in case things go drastically wrong and I need help?” Pippa was laughing but she was semi-serious.
Jean-Pierre gave a sigh, and flung his arms out theatrically. “Only now as I’m leaving does my petit chou ask for my number. Oh my ’eart, ’e is broken.”
Pippa nudged him. “Oh, get on with you! Don’t make me laugh — it’s well known that you are leaving here to set up a French vineyard with your lover, so don’t come all coy with me.”
Jean-Pierre smiled at her, eyes softening with concern. “And if you need a job, you come work with me, you could run the restaurant. It ’as a Mic
helin star, you would be perfect.” Jean-Pierre paused to kiss his bunched fingers. “And I could concentrate on the wine!” He clapped his hands in delight. “What a team we would make! ’ere is my number.” He handed it to her and pulled her toward him as she stretched her hand out to take it. “Forgive me, Peepa, you don’t look ’appy. I ’ope everything is bon, but if no, come and work with me again!” Holding her by the shoulders, he kissed her resoundingly on both cheeks. “Now, we must work, but I will see you at the drinks tonight.”
Pippa watched him go with mixed feelings. She was sad he was going, but happy at the chance it provided. It was lovely for him to offer her a job, but he wasn’t serious, surely. She would love to spend a couple of years exploring New Zealand, rather than cruise around the coast line, watching as trails she wanted to hike were taken away from her.
• • •
When lunch service was over, Pippa picked up a large empty box to put her belongings in and headed back to the Doubtful. Dear God, please don’t let him be there, please. Let me just get my things and go.
She had knocked on the door and had turned the handle before the sound of giggling came to her. Her insides twisted themselves in a knot and sent a large volume of blood to her head. Of all the worst scenarios she had pictured in her head, Jonathon having Juliet in the suite hadn’t even featured as it was too horrible to imagine. Normally Pippa loved her chef’s whites, as they spoke of professionalism to her, but now she looked in dismay down at them. They weren’t a pristine white after the busy service, her hair had escaped its ponytail, and she may as well not have put any makeup on this morning.
Dreading what she was going to see, she leaned against the door to open it. They were standing by the balcony, Juliet clutching a wine glass by the stem, and Jonathon holding a coffee cup. Her heart jumped, stalled, then bunny hopped into an uneven rhythm. She couldn’t look at him — afraid her misery would make itself all the clearer if they made eye contact.
Glancing at Juliet hardly helped either. If Pippa looked a fright, then Juliet looked a cool, perfect vision in a lemon shift that skimmed over her barely there breasts and fell to just above her knees. I should be with him, not you! The thought was gone even before she could acknowledge it.
A voice from the balcony indicated that George Stevenson was out there, talking on the phone. She must have interrupted a business meeting. At least she had knocked!
“Pippa.” Jonathon nodded to her, his face devoid of expression.
“Oh yes, you.” It seemed as though Juliet had rammed rods of steel through her words. “We didn’t order room service, did we? Or maybe we ordered champagne?” Juliet put one hand on Jonathon’s torso, the other around his back, clearly very possessive. “I’d like some sparkling water as well please, room temperature with a slice of lemon. Only one slice.” Juliet raised one eyebrow at Pippa as though to ask her why she was still here.
Pippa felt a snarl rise up through her, and she caught it and struggled to hold it in. To have to put up with this after last night’s charade was making her mad.
“I think you must be confusing me with somebody else. At the moment, I’m the person who’s moving out of this suite.”
Juliet looked slowly at her, blinking her eyes in a way that reminded Pippa of a snake. Then a slow curve appeared on her face, masquerading as a smile. “Well then, don’t let us delay you.” Juliet turned her back to Pippa, clearly dismissing her. Did she care? Like hell.
With her bedroom door safely shut between them, Pippa sank to her knees. Jonathon had looked shocked, but what did he expect? She couldn’t stay there with him. She resisted the temptation to throw herself on the bed crying and ran the water for a shower instead. This may well be the last decent shower she would get for a while.
• • •
She listened at the door, and didn’t pick up any noises to indicate they were still there, so heart thumping, she gently opened it. “Oh!” The exclamation came out before she could stop it. Anthony, one of the porters, was sitting on the sofa, leafing through the company brochure.
“Hi, Pippa. Mr. Eagleton called down to us and asked one of us to help you move your stuff.”
“Th-thanks.” Pippa didn’t know what to say but fortunately Anthony was oblivious to her bemusement. Jonathon’s thoughtfulness had taken her by surprise. She could manage all her things, but it would be a struggle. How considerate of him to ask Anthony. He must have been thinking how to help …
See, here she was softening toward him again. Stop that! Before she would know it, she would have herself convinced that he really had liked her, and must have had a good reason to treat her the way he had. Rather than a bastard who had taken advantage of her, and then flung the fact that she had succumbed to his charm right back in her face, along with one of the biggest insults she ever had received. Not quite the biggest, Marcus was lucky enough to hold that trophy, but close. Her professional self-confidence was on the wane again. Perhaps she was no better than the men she slept with.
“This is lovely, ain’t it? I’ll betcha loved staying here.” Anthony’s cockney accent stoked her homesickness, which had laid in abeyance until now. She was turning into a mess. “Is this it then, love?”
“Yes, thanks, Anthony.”
He hoisted the box on his capable shoulders and stepped back. “After you then.” Thankfully, he chattered away, distracting Pippa whilst she locked up the Doubtful.
Ha! No better name for the home of Jonathon Eagleton. She would be damned if she ever crossed that threshold again.
Chapter Ten
Jonathon rumpled his hair and sat back in his chair, breathing slowly. His office always had been small but now it made him feel claustrophobic. There was no room for him to get up and pace.
Despite all his efforts, the Stevensons were no closer to signing the contract. It would be such a coup for both him and Queen Cruises, he couldn’t give up on it. Queen Cruises was floundering, thanks to Mulberry. The company desperately needed the cash injections that would come from a partnership with the Stevensons. Not to mention the positive publicity.
Their meeting earlier on had been cut short, as George’s phone call had resulted in him having to attend an online conference. They were due to resume in the Doubtful in ten minutes.
Peering into the small mirror he had by the door, he straightened his tie and pulled tall his shoulders. He wasn’t going to accept no for an answer, at least not without a bloody good reason. The Coral Princess kitchen was buzzing as he walked through it, preparing for dinner service.
“Mr. Eagleton?” Rob came up behind him, walking fast to keep up with his pace.
“Yes, Rob?”
“We’re having a leaving party for Jean-Pierre tonight in Akarao, at the Old Tiger’s Head on the quayside, starting about nine.”
“Great, if I’m free I’ll come along for a drink.”
I wonder, will Pippa be there? He dismissed the errant thought, but it led to wanting to see her. “Have you seen Pippa? I need to talk to her about some canapés for the Doubtful.” What was he doing?
“She’s just going over the restaurant bookings with Christian. But I’ve got the canapés ready to bring out now. Would you like to check them?”
“No, it’s okay.” Disappointment shot through him like a shard of crystal glass. “I’m sure they’re great. Thanks, Rob.”
Walking to his suite, he took several deep breaths. Forget about Pippa, at least for the next hour or so. Find out what Stevenson needed in order to convince him to do business with them. Concentrate on pushing this deal through.
It was obvious George Stevenson was in a bad mood as soon as Rob opened the door to him.
“George, how are you?” Jonathon said.
“Not great, Jonathon, I warn you. Juliet wanted to come along, but I need to explain some things to you without her being here. She didn
’t like it when I said no. But some things are better left to the men, hey, Jonathon?” George raised the whisky that Rob had given him and threw the entire contents back. “Thanks.” He winced as he swallowed and handed the glass back to Rob. “Black coffee, please, young man.”
This was going to be harder than expected. Damn Juliet anyway. What had she said to rile her old man, and why had she chosen this evening to do so?
“Come out to the balcony. Rob has set some canapés out there, and some more drinks.” Jonathon held an arm up to take George outside. Perhaps the fresh air and the dusky view would help to relax them both.
“Heck, it sure is nice being out here.” George looked out at lights coming on in the quayside. “So, Juliet has an idea, one she’s not letting go of.”
Jonathon smiled at George. “Oh?”
“I’ll be straight with you, Jonathon. I promised her, before we decided to come aboard with you, that she could take a more active role within the Stevenson Corporation. She has decided, in her wisdom, to be the person within the corporation to deal with Queen Cruises. She has been privy to all my thoughts regarding our deal.”
Jonathon wanted to shake his head in disbelief. Surely George hadn’t agreed to this preposterous idea? No wonder Juliet had kept tagging along with her dad.
“Juliet wants me to sign the deal with you, but in return,” and here he held up a warning finger, “she wants you to take her on to the board of executives, as PR executive.”
Jonathon ducked his head, thoughts cycling through his mind but no answers becoming apparent.
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