‘Yes.’
The smile was full-blown now, and it warmed something inside him that he had thought was frozen.
‘Right over there.’
She pointed, and he wondered which of the spectacular houses was hers.
‘Connor said he lives in one of the main parts of town.’
‘He does, yes. But we don’t live together. He moved out of the house when he went to university. My parents were devastated, but they had me, and I had no plans for moving out. I commuted to university for my first year and then...’ She trailed off and cleared her throat. ‘And now I still live there.’
Her words made him want to ask so many questions. He wanted to break through whatever barrier she’d put up and find out why she hadn’t continued with her story. Instead he settled for one of his many questions.
‘Alone?’
She looked at him, and the pain in her eyes nearly stole his breath.
‘Alone.’
Silence stretched between them while Blake tried to find words to comfort a hurt he didn’t know anything about. But words failed him, and all he could do was wait helplessly.
‘Come on—there’s a lot more to show you,’ she said, after what felt like for ever, and he followed her back to the cable car.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he was reminded that they were there for business, and as soon as the thought registered he took his phone from his pocket. He opened a memo and recorded Table Mountain as an approved place for the investors to see.
‘This must be a really popular place for your tours,’ he said as the cable car began its descent.
‘It is.’
Was that relief he heard in her voice?
‘I usually begin here or end here. Ending here usually works when the tour starts in the afternoon and we can make it up the mountain for sunset.’
‘I’d love to see that.’
She smiled. ‘It’s definitely something to see. Maybe some day I’ll take you.’
They were simple words, but Blake felt them shift something inside him. An emotion he hadn’t experienced until he’d met her jolted him. Hope. He hadn’t hoped for anything in a long time. Nor had he thought he would want to watch the sunset on top of a mountain with a woman who made him feel things he didn’t want to feel.
‘Where to next?’ he asked when they reached the car.
‘That, Mr Owen, would take all the fun out of today.’
She grinned, and he felt himself smiling back, despite what he was fighting inside.
* * *
‘If Table Mountain is included in a morning tour I usually schedule it for about ten. We’d usually end there at about twelve, and then either have lunch at the top of the mountain or take a drive down to Camps Bay to have lunch.’
She nearly purred at the way the car was handling the curves of the road.
‘I usually prefer driving down, because then our guests get to experience this amazing drive. And once there they can have lunch at one of the many upper-class but affordable restaurants.’
‘I can’t fault you on that,’ Blake said, and she glanced over to see he was looking out of the window. ‘This view is amazing.’
‘I know.’
She smiled, and thought that her tour wasn’t going badly. She hadn’t shown him much yet, but she wanted to take him to the places she knew would provide opportunities to market the hotel to his investors. And she hadn’t been able to resist showing him the best attraction—Table Mountain—first.
‘If they like it, I tell them they can stay at the beach for the afternoon and we’ll send a shuttle to fetch them when they’re ready.’
‘Sounds like a tourist’s dream.’
‘It is,’ she agreed. ‘Although, to be fair, it’s a resident’s dream as well.’
‘The grateful ones.’
He looked at her and smiled, and she had to force her eyes back to the road.
‘If you live here, you must drive this road every day?’
‘Mostly, yes,’ she said, and thanked her heart for returning to its usual pace. ‘But I live further up, so I wouldn’t take this part of the road. It leads to the beach,’ she continued, when she realised he was probably just as much of a tourist in Cape Town as her guests were.
‘Do you often go to the beach?’
She slowed down as they turned onto the road along the beachfront. ‘Probably once a week. Never to swim or tan.’ She smiled and drove into an underground car park. ‘I usually go in the evenings for a run or a walk. It helps clear my head.’
They got out, and she suddenly realised that she hadn’t told him she thought they should have lunch. Self-doubt kicked in, and she said nervously, ‘Um...there isn’t really much to do here unless you have your swimming trunks hidden under your suit.’
She flushed when she realised what she had said. Even more so when she thought about him in swimming gear.
‘But I can introduce you to the management at some of the restaurants the hotel guests usually frequent during the tours. And we can grab lunch on our way to the next stop.’
She didn’t wait for his response but instead led the way to the beachfront, where the line of restaurants was. The idea of sitting down and having lunch with him was still slightly terrifying to her, so she was taking the easy way out.
As she introduced Blake to the different restaurateurs she watched him slip into a professional mode that oozed charm and sophistication. He asked the right questions, said the right things, and ensured that everyone respected him. Which meant that many of them—whom Callie knew quite well—were now even more interested in the Elegance Hotel, having met its CEO. And they genuinely seemed to like him.
She grudgingly admitted that it made her like him a little more, too, but told herself that she was talking about her boss—not the man she’d met in the elevator.
Desperately trying to distract herself, she asked if he’d like to eat and then took him to one of stores that did takeaway wraps and salads. They ordered, and stood in silence. Callie waited for him to say something—anything—about all the people they’d spoken to, but instead he sat down at one of the tables and stared out at the ocean.
She joined him, and yet the silence continued. When she couldn’t take it any more she asked, ‘So, do you like the beach?’
Callie knew it wasn’t her best shot, but the silence had made her observant, and the more she observed, the more she responded to Blake. She felt the movement of her heart, the heat in her body, but she refused to succumb to them. She just wanted to talk, to take her mind off what being in his presence did to her.
‘Who doesn’t?’
His eyes didn’t move from the ocean, but she could see a slight smile on his lips.
‘I didn’t go nearly as much as I would have liked to when I was younger. And when I took over the hotels there just wasn’t time. I don’t know when I was last at a beach like this.’
‘You should make the time.’ She offered a tentative smile when he glanced back at her. ‘At both our stops so far you’ve seemed...I don’t know...at peace with the world.’ She blushed when he turned his body so that he was facing her. ‘I just think that if something makes you feel at peace, makes you happy, you should make the time for it.’
He didn’t respond for a while, and Callie bit her lip in fear that she might have said the wrong thing. His eyes lowered to her lips then, and the heat she’d felt earlier was nothing compared to what flowed through her body at his gaze. If he had been anyone else she would have leaned forward and kissed him. But he wasn’t anyone else, and she couldn’t look away when he looked back into her eyes.
‘What do you make time for, Callie McKenzie? What makes you happy or makes you feel peaceful?’
The question would have been innocent if he hadn’t still b
een looking at her as if she was the only woman on earth.
She cleared her throat. ‘Gardening. I garden.’
Blake tilted his head with a frown, and then grinned. ‘I would never have guessed that.’
She smiled back at him, grateful that the tension between them had abated. ‘I don’t blame you. I’m terrible at it. I buy things and plant them, but mostly I pay someone to look after them.’
He laughed, and Callie couldn’t believe how attracted she was to him when he looked so carefree. ‘So you plant things but don’t look after them? And that makes you happy?’
She nodded, remembering the first time she had done it.
‘Yes, it does. It reminds me of my mother. We used to do it together—though I was just as bad then as I am now.’ She stared out to the ocean, memories making her forget where she was. Who she was with. ‘But my mom would just let me plant, and then she’d fix what I did wrong. When I was old enough to realise, I asked her why she let me do it.’ She looked down, barely noticing how her hands played with the end of her top. ‘She told me that it was because it made me happy, and that if something makes you happy you should do it.’
She looked up at him and saw compassion in his eyes, before she realised that tears had filled her own. She lifted her head, embarrassed and raw from what she’d told him, the way she’d reacted, and only looked back at him when she was sure she had her emotions under control.
He took a hand from her lap and squeezed it, but before he could say what he clearly wanted to their order number was called.
They grabbed their lunch and without saying anything ate as they walked back to the car.
She wasn’t sure what had prompted her to tell him that. Maybe it had been the moment...the setting. But the more likely answer—the one she didn’t want to consider—was that maybe it was him. He made her feel things—things she would fight as long as she could. Feeling safe enough, secure enough to open up to someone would take a lot more than just a few hours with him.
And it wouldn’t be with her boss. No, she thought as she threw away her half-eaten wrap. She couldn’t open up to her boss.
* * *
Blake had wanted to say something to her from the moment she had told him about her mother. He wanted to comfort her, tell her that it was okay that she’d told him, that the fear and surprise he’d seen in her eyes when she’d realised what she’d said wasn’t necessary. But instead, like the coward he was, he stayed silent and went along with the rest of the tour as though she hadn’t just let him see such an intimate part of herself.
On their way back from the beach she drove him up to the Bo-Kaap, where colourful houses lined the streets. She told him about the rich cultural heritage of the area—how it had come to be a place of refuge for the Islamic slaves who had been freed in 1834. She pointed out the museum that had been established over a century later, and had been designed according to the typical Muslim home in the nineteenth century.
‘The design is in the process of changing at the moment, but the museum will tell you quite a lot about one of the most thriving cultural communities in Cape Town.’ She turned the car around and drove back down the hill. ‘You should make an effort to visit it some time.’
After that she took him to the V&A Waterfront—another cultural hub of the city. It was both a mall and a dock, he discovered as they walked past a mass of shoppers to get to the actual waterfront. The large boats there were either docked for repair or in to pick up cargo, and the smaller ones either belonged to private citizens or were available for hire.
They also transported people to Robben Island, he discovered as he climbed into a boat and sat next to Callie.
Since it was the last trip of the day the boat was quite full, and he was forced to sit closer to her than he would have liked. Her perfume made him feel a need he had never felt before. Even mixed with the salty smell of the sea, its effect on him was potent. He wanted her to turn to him so that he could kiss her, just so that he could make his need for her subside.
He couldn’t shake it off even when they arrived at the island where Nelson Mandela had famously spent twenty-seven years of his life. His thoughts were filled with her as the tour guide walked them through a typical day in the prison, as he told them about the ex-President of South Africa and showed them his cell.
By the time they had got back to the waterfront, it was late enough for their day to end. But he didn’t want that. No, he didn’t want the day to end. Because then he would have to go back to the hotel...back to being her boss.
‘We should go for dinner,’ he said, without fully realising it. ‘It’s been a long day and we’ve barely eaten. I think the least I can do for you after today is take you out.’
Her mouth opened and closed a few times, and his heart pounded at the prospect of her saying no. But then she answered him.
‘Yeah...okay. Where do you want to go?’
‘Somewhere you love.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I want to see more of Cape Town, but not just the side that your guests see.’
‘Um...’ She looked lost for a second, and then she nodded. ‘Okay, I’ll take you to one of my favourite places. But you can drive this time.’
He nodded and climbed into the driver’s seat, following her directions until she’d finished typing the location into his GPS.
‘You weren’t lying when you said you haven’t seen much of Cape Town, were you?’
The question was so random that he didn’t take the time to think his answer through. ‘No. My father and stepmother moved here when he retired, which was about eight years ago. I’ve probably been here twice a year since then to see them, and a few more times for the hotel. But that’s the extent of my travels to Cape Town.’
‘Where did you live before?’
‘Port Elizabeth, for the most part. But, like I mentioned, I travelled a lot between hotels.’
‘Do you miss it? Port Elizabeth?’
He thought about telling her the truth—that he didn’t miss being there because it reminded him of his relationship with Julia, and how he had failed at that and let his business down. But that would only open himself up to more questions, and force him to face things he didn’t want to remember.
Luckily the GPS declared that they had arrived, and he used the opportunity to deflect the question.
‘What is this place?’
She tilted her head, as though she knew what he was doing, but answered him.
‘It’s called Sakari—which means “sweet” in Inuit. They specialise in dessert and have the most delicious milkshakes—though the food is pretty incredible, too.’
They walked inside, and Blake took a moment to process the look of the restaurant. It wasn’t big, but it comfortably fitted its customers without seeming stuffy. There were even a few couches in front of a fireplace. Since it was still summer, the fire wasn’t lit, but the couches were filled with people ranging through all ages. The doors were open and a slight breeze filled the room, causing the candles that had been lit for atmosphere to flutter every now and then.
It was a perfect summer’s evening, he thought, in a perfect—and intimate—restaurant. He shrugged off what the thought conjured inside him and returned his attention to the hostess, who was greeting Callie with a warmth that he’d never witnessed before.
‘Hi, Bianca, how are you?’
Callie spoke to the hostess as though she were her best friend.
The woman had a full head of black and blue curls that complemented her gorgeous olive skin.
‘Great, thanks. Ben and I just found out we’re having a girl!’
Blake only then realised the woman was pregnant as he looked at the slight bump under her apron. He figured she was probably around four months, and waited as Callie congratulated Bianca and asked if she could squeeze them in.
‘Of course. Give me a second.’
Callie turned to him and her eyes were bright. ‘Bianca is my father’s business partner’s daughter. She opened this little restaurant about eight years ago. My dad was so proud of her—almost like she was his own.’
‘Was...?’
‘Yes.’
Her eyes dimmed, and suddenly he put together all the bits and pieces that she’d told him throughout the day. Her house, the almost-tears when she’d spoken about her mother, and now the past tense with her father. And just as quickly he realised he’d pressed her when he shouldn’t have.
‘Callie, I’m so sorry.’
CHAPTER SIX
‘DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT.’
Callie cleared her throat and smiled when Bianca led them to a table in the corner. She knew the woman had probably squeezed it in herself, and she thanked her and rolled her eyes at the wink Bianca sent her after looking at Blake.
Callie busied herself with looking at the menu, and though she could feel him staring at her eventually Blake did the same. She sighed in relief, knowing that she didn’t want to talk about her parents’ deaths with him. She just wanted to have dinner and go home, where she would be safe from the feelings that stirred through her when she was with him.
‘Their burgers are really good. And of course you should have one with a milkshake.’
She spoke because she didn’t want to revert to their previous topic of conversation.
‘Sounds good,’ he said, and placed his menu down. And then he asked exactly what she’d tried to prevent. ‘When did you lose your parents?’
She didn’t want to talk about this, she thought, and shut her eyes. But when she opened them again his own were filled with compassion and sincerity. So she gave him a brief answer. ‘Almost a decade ago now.’
He nodded, and was silent for a bit. ‘My mom left when I was eleven. It’s not the same thing, of course, but I think I may understand a little of what you feel.’
She stared at him—not because his mom had left, but because he’d shared the fact with her. It made her feel—comforted. That was terrible, she thought, but then he smiled at her, and she realised that comforting her had been his intention. She found herself smiling back before she averted her eyes.
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