Jonathon slapped his hand against the side of his head. “Of course it is. Right then, here — ” he flicked through his dialed numbers “ — is the number for the hostel on the shore, the guy’s name is Mario. Tell him to say thanks, I’m sending over … how many are there?”
“Ten.”
“I’m sending over ten customers for the night. Hang on, how about Marcus himself?” He couldn’t send him over there, not to where Pippa was.
“Em … I don’t think his accommodation will be a problem.”
Jonathon looked at her and experienced an eerie sense of déjà vu. “Oh yes?”
“I think Juliet will take care of that, if you see what I mean.”
Clearly, Mulberry and Juliet had a lot more in common than he had originally thought. Perhaps he should introduce them, Pippa would find it hilarious. Stop!
“Is there anything else, Fiona?” He looked back over to where he imagined the hostel to be, holding his lips together in a crooked smile.
“Actually, yeah. Has Pippa left for good, do you think?”
Air gushed from his lungs and he took a deep breath of the lake’s clean air, gathering his words. “I hope not, perhaps she may be persuaded to come back but for now we should assume she’s not.” He glanced sideways at Fiona, expecting her expression to be mirroring his of gloom. Instead, she stood there with one hand on her hip, the other clutching the ubiquitous clipboard to her chest, with fire in her eyes.
“Her running away is totally understandable, that was a rotten thing for anyone to go through. But I believe you could get her back.”
Jonathon frowned and opened his mouth to ask her what she meant, but her pager started beeping and without looking at it, she turned it off. “It’ll be Ann, my second in command. Must go and get those rooms sorted. Thanks, Mr. Eagleton.” She hurried off down the stairs into the main body of the ship, leaving Jonathon out on deck.
Go get her.
Would he? Should he? Admitting his love for her was easy in comparison to this. Yes, of course he was going to get her, dammit. He wasn’t going to let her walk out of his life. As soon as he could get away, he was across that water, going to get her.
• • •
A gentle breeze came through the open window. Pippa sniffed and turned her face outwards, toward the breeze. A heady smell of pine and loam came through the open window. Pippa drew a shuddering breath and turned her face outward, toward the gentle breeze.
The mountains loomed close, beckoning. All right, so her dream of climbing them with Jonathon wasn’t about to come true, so she may as well get on with walking them on her own. She could probably buy some hiking food at the front desk, and a strong coffee to help her attack those ascents. Her heart rose. If anything would help, it would be a day out in these beautiful surroundings.
Mario was the only person in the small office. Clearly business was slow.
“Hi, Mario, do you sell scroggin? And do you have maps of the walks in the area?”
“We sure do. If you look behind you, they’re on the wall. Choose which walk you’d like to do and if you need it, I’ll sell you the corresponding ordinance survey map. Depends on how long you want to go for. The short walks are easily sign-posted.”
Pippa stood, tried to make sense of the entire wall covered in treks. “I only want a four, maybe five-hour max trip.”
Mario leaned on the reception counter, eyes alight as he described the places within easy distance. As she watched and listened, a yearning for the simple life unfurled. A life in which she had never heard of Jonathon Eagleton, nor had any grandiose ideas of being a head chef aboard a luxury cruise liner, going places.
Hah. Forget that.
How lovely instead would it be to live here, to kayak and hike whenever your heart so desired. She’d become the most relaxed person in the world. Yet there was a little niggle at the back of her brain. The one that said she needed the thrill of working, savoured the rush of being around Jonathon. But then it wasn’t as if she had a choice, now was it?
She exhaled a long breath and blew a curl from her face.
“Great, Mario, whatever you think is best, I trust your judgment.” She smiled, setting her tiredness behind her.
“You can’t go far wrong.” He smiled at her. “Em … ”
“Yes?”
“Oh nothing. I mean, here’s your scroggin. Right then.” He glanced at the clock behind him. “It’s eleven A.M., I’ll expect you back before four P.M., otherwise I’ll start to worry. That gives you five hours to do an easy three-hour hike. Think you can manage it?”
Pippa picked an apple from the bowl on the desk, threw it up in the air, and caught it smoothly. “Easy. Thanks, Mario, see you then.”
See, her heart had lifted just by making a small effort, and the walking would help to keep it from the doldrums. Great to be finally out in the open. She deliberately kept her back to the far off Coral Princess but couldn’t stop her mind harking to it.
So, eleven a.m … .
The kitchen should have taken delivery of all the food, it had better all be there. Christian would be busy preparing the vegetables, he had a talent, that boy. Alfonso would be in his element, walking around, telling everybody what to do, but with an easygoing humour that endeared him to many of the staff.
And Jonathon, what would he be doing? Her chest contracted. Damn the man, he now had a place in her mind as well as her heart. Hewn into her mind like the Hollywood sign, only there was nothing glamorous about unrequited love. Had he missed her? Trying to stop herself from thinking about Jonathon was like trying to stop the waterfalls thundering over the cliffs. Perhaps she should just let her mind think about him, just this once. Call it a mourning process, a wake. She’d walk and think about him, and when she returned to the hostel, employ strict discipline and put him clean out of her mind. And her heart.
Her spirits rose infinitesimally just at the thought of being able to dwell on him, that last look of his as she left him. His face had been gentle in tenderness, eyes deepening in a warm caress as he had reached to her. If she allowed herself, she would think that look meant something. Warmth infused the ice within her, threatening to crack it.
Just don’t think of the future without him.
A few hours later, she was puffed out, standing on a ridge looking over the lakes, amazement rippling her numb emotions. Where else would you be able to do a 360-degree turn and see nothing but nature at its finest? The shadows of clouds rolling over brown mountains lined with trees and capped with snow, snugly hidden valleys and rivers. A person could be forgiven for thinking they were the only person in this world. Pippa alternatively felt small and insignificant, then strong and powerful. One moment she would scoff at her impotency, the next helplessness coursed through her.
Oh, Jonathon.
Totally enthralled in her walking, watching where her boots fell, the sight of the ship brought her right back down to earth. She had to get further away. The ship was due to depart early the next morning, and already a bereft feeling threatened to overcome her. Far better for her to leave it, and Jonathon.
But where could she go? Milford Sound? Queenstown? The ship would only haunt her if she went there.
“Peepa, come and see me.” Jean-Pierre’s voice popped into her head.
Could she go and see him? Just until she got things sorted out to head back to the UK? Relief flew through her at the thought of a solution, even a temporary one. That was exactly what she would do.
Call Jean-Pierre, and go back to Akoroa. Great.
Chapter Fifteen
The good thing about Juliet working for him, he didn’t have to put up with her drunken ramblings and advances anymore. The ink drying on the deal helped as well. Plus, she focused her attention entirely on Marcus, positively purring whenever he came near their table.
&nb
sp; Jonathon was free to network with the other passengers.
Free? What a joke. He didn’t want to be free, he wanted Pippa on his arm. After witnessing, and thoroughly enjoying, the success that came from her kitchen for the Gala Dinner, his craving for her grew until he could almost taste it.
The night had excelled previous Gala nights, with the exception that she wasn’t here to help celebrate. After he had ensured everyone was happy, Jonathon excused himself from his table and entered the brightly lit kitchen. Scenes of muted jubilation greeted him. They were all drinking the champagne he had sent through, but nobody was bubbling over with happiness. He understood it, and missed being able to celebrate a successful cruise and an even more successful deal with someone special. Someone with corkscrew curls and bright eyes.
Alfonso was at the coffee station. “Great night!” Jonathon held out his hand to shake his, and slapped him on the back. “Well done, the passengers were highly complimentary.”
Alfonso shrugged, in a gesture lifted straight from working with Jean-Pierre. “I didn’t do much. Pippa had it all organized. I just ensured it all went according to plan.”
“Nonetheless, it was well done.”
“Pippa should have been here, it was her night. I can’t take any credit for it, although that Marcus probably will. Why wasn’t she here?” Alfonso didn’t smile as he spoke. “She was missed.”
“Jonathon.” Marcus came up behind him, slopping most of his champagne as he waved it in an expansive gesture. “How was the food?”
Alfonso interrupted. “I need to check the stores for breakfast, I must go. Mr. Eagleton, Longbottom.” He nodded farewell to them both and headed into the kitchen.
Jonathon watched him go, and turned to Marcus. “Great, thanks. Alfonso here tells me that Pippa had most of it organized and there wasn’t much left to do.” He watched for Marcus’s reaction as he said Pippa’s name. To his curiosity, Marcus, even with a lot of Dutch courage inside him, couldn’t meet his gaze.
“True. She did, after all, train with the best.” No note of irony entered the drawled words. “So it was easy for me as she works the same way we did when we worked together. Plus I trust her so I let Alfonso run with her plan, and I just oversaw it all.”
“Alfonso was just asking why she wasn’t here.”
“Ah. Well I think me being here made her a bit nervous.”
Jonathon raised an eyebrow.
“I shouldn’t say it, but … ” He paused, and took a big drink out of his glass only to put it on the counter when he realized he was drinking nothing but air. “Anymore champers around?”
“What are you saying, man?” Jonathon’s patience was on the wane with the drunken ex-boyfriend of the woman he loved. What on earth had Pippa seen in him?
“When we finished, I told her it was because I needed some positive publicity, the kind I could get by being linked to some of the it girls. Juliet, for instance. I didn’t want our relationship to be over, and I’m not proud to say that I thought we could carry on in private, but be seen publicly with the girls who were in the gossip mags.” His mouth drooped at the corners, and the buzz of drinking dipped without fresh supplies. “I got the publicity, but I lost the girl.”
No wonder the events of this morning had thrown Pippa. Jonathon stared at Marcus, who suddenly looked sober. His gut twisted at the thought that he had said something to Pippa about Marcus being good for publicity. Dammit, she must have felt that she was being kept away from the limelight, leaving her ex-boyfriend to collect all the glory. Just like Marcus had suggested to her, back in London. History had a way of repeating itself. Poor Pippa. His heart thumped into action. Go get her. Be with her. NOW!
“Thanks, Marcus.” Jonathon swiped the new bottle of champagne Marcus had just found, and left him standing there with a sober look of confusion on his face. I’m coming, Pippa!
He made a clatter running up the steel stairs to the deck. He glanced at his watch. The Xplorer wasn’t due to depart until much later tonight, but he wasn’t the CEO for nothing. His luck was in and the driver was there, checking the onboard computer.
“Phillip?”
“Hey, Mr. Eagleton.”
“Will you take me into the bay please?”
“No problem. Shall I ask Lee to get you a drink from the bar while we’re crossing?”
“No thanks, let’s just go please.” His desire to see Pippa was so strong it was like the sun trying to burst from his chest.
“Whatever you say, sir.”
Jonathon paced around the small boat, figuring out what to say. His blood pumped through his body quickly, swirling and whirling out from his heart. Would she tell him to get lost? No doubt she thought that he had sold her out, in favour of glory. He had to make her realize that it had all been beyond his control, that she was the only girl in the world for him.
The thirty minutes it took to dock seemed to drag by, or flew past, he couldn’t make up his mind which. When they stopped, he vaulted over the side without waiting for the gate to open onto the gangway. It couldn’t be hard to find the hostel. He ran down the path, looking from side to side. If anyone could see him now, they’d clutch their sides in laughter. A grown man in DJ, clutching a bottle of champagne, running as though his life depended on it.
A small, warmly lit sign for the hostel appeared and he stopped dead. There it was. Pippa was less than a minute away.
He had to get a grip. Slow his heart down before he tumbled in there and made an utter fool of himself. This was worse than the most extreme caffeine overload he’d ever had. Deep breaths, in, out, in, out. Blowing the last breath through pursed lips, he crossed the gravel toward the open door.
Easy does it.
There was a young man behind the counter, frowning in concentration as he turned the pages of his book. Jonathon cleared his throat, and soon was on the receiving end of a quizzical look.
“Hi, I’m Mario. Let me guess … ” He put his hand out, and Jonathon didn’t like the look that came over his face. “You’re looking for Pippa Renshaw, is that right?”
“Yes, I am.” He shook his hand briefly. “Hi, Mario. Where is she?”
“You’re too late. She’s gone.” Mario had a told-you-so look on his face.
“What? Where?” Jonathon put the bottle on the counter with a gratifying thump.
“She went out for a hike, then came back around four looking marginally happier, asking what, if any, buses left here today.”
“And?” He had to stop himself from leaning over the counter and dragging the man up by the collar. “Tell me, man.”
“One left about two hours ago.”
“Where to?” His patience was about to snap.
“Queenstown.”
Jonathon looked blankly at him. Queenstown, that was okay, they were heading there tomorrow after all. But that could be too late.
“When’s the next one?” He checked his pockets, he had his wallet and iPhone on him, that was all he needed. There wasn’t anything urgently requiring his attention back at the ship — it would be easy to meet them in Queenstown. “Well?”
Mario was just staring at him. Did he not understand his urgency?
“In about twenty-two hours.”
“You’re kidding me.” Please be kidding me.
“No, sorry, there’s only one a day.”
“Well, how can I get to Queenstown?”
Mario just shrugged.
“Is there a taxi I can call?”
“Out here? Sorry, no. Look, I told you hours ago she was here, and it took you this long to get here?”
Jonathon held back the red mist that was threatening. He had to think clearly.
“Mario, can I borrow your car?” Mario shook his head, lips in a wry smile. “I’ll bring it back by six A.M., that’s when the
ship leaves.”
“You don’t understand, we don’t have a car. We bike everywhere, much better for the environment.”
“Motorbike?” Jonathon had a fleeting image of him roaring over the mountains to get his girl.
“Push-bike.”
Poof went that image. He deflated.
“Is there any way I can get there?”
“Sure is.”
“How?”
Mario came from behind the counter, and walked over to the window. “See that boat out there? I’m reliably informed she’s leaving for Milford Sound at six in the morning, from where you can get a bus.” Mario’s words teased him from his red mist. But still, Jonathon could have throttled him, only cheerfully this time.
“I don’t suppose she gave any clue as to where she may stay?”
“No, sorry.” There was pity on Mario’s face. “Good luck, mate, I do hope you find her. If you do, you can have your honeymoon here for free!”
“Thanks, Mario.” He pushed the champagne over to him. “You and your wife may as well have that. I don’t want it.” He turned to walk back out the door. What was he going to do now?
Yet, the thought of a honeymoon with Pippa further softened his annoyance. He should be so lucky.
• • •
Pippa disconnected her phone as she walked down the high street in Queenstown, under siege from billboards and placards advertising bungee jumps, sky dives, and a multitude of other ways to part travelers and their money. If her heart were functioning properly, she would be a sucker for the adrenaline inducing experiences. Yet she had a sneaky feeling that even if she threw herself off a platform 134 metres above a river attached to an elastic band, her heart wouldn’t even notice.
The bus driver had dropped her off outside a pretty hostel, just five minutes’ walk away from the centre.
Jean-Pierre couldn’t disguise the surprise in his voice when he’d heard Pippa on the phone.
“’ow come you are calling me, you should be finishing off your service. What is wrong?”
“I’m not there, I’m not even on board.”
Romancing the Seas Page 16