When Chocolate Is Not Enough...

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When Chocolate Is Not Enough... Page 15

by Nina Harrington


  Perhaps it was to tell her that he wasn’t coming back and she would have to deal with this on her own after all? Or that he had signed a wonderful deal with one of the major chocolate manufacturers he had been chatting to most of the previous day instead?

  Oh, just listen to the recorded message and get it over with, you silly girl!

  She pressed the button and Max bellowed out from her phone, sounding as though he was either in the car or running. Either way, just the crackly sound of his voice made her lie back on the pillow so that she could bathe in his words, savouring each one in turn.

  ‘Hi! I hoped to catch you before you started cooking. Instead of which I am walking in the sunshine on the way to meeting number four. So here goes—this is what I would say in my clumsy way if I was able to stand next to you right now. I am only a poor cocoa farmer, and you have only been in my life for a short time, but I know this: I know that you are remarkable, beautiful and talented beyond measure. I know that I believe in you, and I know that I could not have chosen a better chocolatier to work with. You will always do your very best. So be ready to get out there and be audacious. Because the world deserves to see your beautiful light. It is time for you to come out of the kitchen, Daisy, and let that dazzling light break through the darkness. Both of us have been living under a shadow for far too long.

  ‘My meetings are running late—but I will be there to escort you into dinner. And whatever the judges decide we have already won. Because you know now that you are capable of achieving anything you set your heart on. So no more settling for second-hand dreams, Daisy Flynn. You can do anything. Anywhere you want. This is your life, so get ready to have a brilliant evening—and I’ll see you around seven. Oh—and I won’t get lost. Your dazzling light will be my beacon.’

  Daisy lay still for a few minutes, eyes closed, with the telephone clasped to her chest. She was listening, just listening, to the sound of the world that was spinning all around her. Birdsong from the lovely grounds outside her bedroom window, lively chatter and laughter from a cluster of men in the corridor, and the sound of her own breathing as tears trickled down her cheeks.

  Crazy, foolish, wonderful man! What was he doing, leaving her messages like that?

  Wow, was she grateful that she had not picked up his message before she went into the kitchen—because if she had there would have been a very weepy girl crying into her egg whites while trying to read her own recipes and failing.

  Max believed in her! Thought that she was capable of achieving anything. Doing anything. What was the term he had used? Second-hand dreams? Oh, yes, she knew about those.

  Daisy rolled sideways and off the edge of the bed, the phone still clasped in her hand. From here she could see her reflection in the mirror glass of the wardrobe.

  Ever since she had got back from Paris, and the humiliation of being taken for granted by Pascal, her one goal had been to open her own chocolate shop. She had told everyone from Tara to the chefs she worked with all over London that in two years, three at most, she would have her own place in the city. Her name over the door. Her brand.

  But now, sitting here, it hit her—and hit her hard—that Max had seen through her claims and protests. She wanted to open a shop because that was what her father had wanted—and he’d never got the chance. He’d been a loving, caring, talented man, and she’d adored him, but she knew that he could have cut back on the bakery and spent more time on his chocolate work. He hadn’t been brave enough to make the move.

  Oh, Dad. She would be a poor example of a daughter if she didn’t make the most of every second of her life. She loved her work. She loved seeing the look of exquisite pleasure on the faces of complete strangers when they tasted the food she created. Those were the things that gave her joy and satisfaction. Not money in the bank or a big banner over a shop door—but real happiness, with people she loved around her.

  Max was right. She was still living in her father’s shadow. And it was finally time to step out of the kitchen and into the light.

  She did have choices. A bewildering selection of choices, if she was truly honest. And being with Max on a tropical island had suddenly shot right to the top of the list.

  What she did and where she did it was still up for grabs.

  A shocking and totally exhilarating idea swished around inside her brain. She did not need to spend her whole life tied to a single retail outlet on some city street to express her creative talent—she could do that anywhere she chose.

  But there was one thing she was absolutely clear about. She knew now exactly who she wanted to spend her life with. Maximilian Treveleyn. The man she had only met a few days ago. The man she was totally in love with. The man she was ready and willing to fight for. And if that meant learning to be a farmer on an island in the Caribbean—well, that was what she was going to have to do. Because she was not letting him go. No second best for her. Not any more.

  She was free.

  For the first time in way too many long years she felt able to simply live in the moment and enjoy where she was and what she was doing. Not fighting or working or running from one place to the next with orders and deliveries. And free from Pascal and the pain of the past.

  Tonight she was finally going to be herself.

  Max was right. She had done everything she possibly could to impress the judges, and the recipes she had chosen represented the essence of who she was. Even the dessert cake was a triumph she would never have been brave enough to try without the superb organic chocolate that Max had created. There was nothing more to do but enjoy this lovely hotel and come out of the kitchen into the world.

  She felt lighter. Almost as if the weight of responsibility for living the life she had planned with her father years ago had been lifted from her shoulders.

  Daisy stopped, closed her eyes, and slowly, slowly exhaled.

  She should be scared. Frightened of being cast loose onto an open sea of bewildering opportunities. But she wasn’t scared in the least. She could work anywhere she wanted. Go anywhere. Have fun. And just that one single thought made her dizzy with excitement and joy.

  Daisy started unbuttoning her jacket. What was she doing, sitting in her room! She had a party to get ready for.

  It was time to start living her life.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘DADDY, your little tie thing is all twisted.’ Freya sighed and stood on the bed so that she could tug at it, both lips pressed together tight with concentration.

  ‘It is? Thank goodness your mummy brought you to see me at this nice hotel. Otherwise I would have had to go down to an extra-special posh awards dinner with a crooked tie,’ Max replied, his neck already hurting from bending down so much. ‘And that would never do, would it? How’s that? Am I done?’

  She nodded, and was rewarded by a big smoochy kiss as Max swung her up into the air, making her squeal.

  ‘Hey, what’s all this noise about?’ Kate asked from the bathroom.

  ‘Mummy, come and look at Daddy. He’s got his bestest suit on and everything.’

  ‘So he has.’ Kate stuck her head out of the bathroom door and nodded several times before pointing towards Max. ‘Don’t you think he looks smart? Your clever daddy is going to be a wonderful hotel manager and sell lots of cocoa beans. And then we are all going to go to the island to see him, and stay for the whole of the Christmas holidays. How about that?’

  ‘Yay! Clever Daddy. When can we go, Daddy? Tomorrow? Can we go tomorrow?’

  ‘Hey! Hold on there, gorgeous,’ Max replied, as Freya flung her arms around his neck. ‘I am going to build a few extras onto the house first, so that it’s nice and cool for you all the time, and you can swim and play all day long. Can I tell you what the best bit is? I have to whisper it.’

  She leant forward so that her ear and most of her party dress was pressed against his face, making breathing a challenge.

  ‘The best bit is that I get to be with my little girl for a whole Christmas holiday—but this time on t
he beach in hot sunshine. With real parrots and bananas you can pick straight from the bush. And boats and sailing and lots of jungle creatures to find. It is going to be mega.’

  Freya’s eyes widened. ‘Mega. You are the bestest daddy in the whole world.’

  Max looked over towards Kate as he hugged Freya so tight that she squealed, and Kate winked back as he mouthed silent thanks.

  ‘It’s time to let your dad go and talk to the grown-ups and be a very important business person while we finish getting dressed. Five more minutes, then we can skip down and join the party. Okay?’

  Freya slid down Max’s dinner suit and gave a huge shrug. ‘Five whole minutes? Okay. See you soon, Daddy. You have to go and be important now.’

  ‘See you soon.’ Max tapped the end of her nose with his fingertip. ‘See you very soon.’

  Max practically slid along the marble floor at the hotel reception desk, and had to hold onto the counter to steady himself.

  Was he in time? He had to be. He simply had to be! He would never forgive himself if he was late for the conference dinner and let Daisy down just when she needed him to be there.

  Stretching up on tiptoe, he looked over the heads of the people who were wandering out of the cocktail lounge towards the splendid dining room.

  There she was.

  Chatting to the managing director of the company who owned this entire chain of boutique eco hotels. The elegantly dressed Austrian was clearly delighted at something she was saying, and as Max watched in awe the man actually threw his head back and laughed out loud, startling the contest judges who were gathering at the top table near the dais.

  Max blinked and shook his head for a second, before smiling across at her. His heart was racing just to see her beautiful face.

  Daisy.

  She was wearing a black cocktail dress, smiling and laughing like a total networking professional, with one of the most influential and most recognised hoteliers in the world, as though this was something she did every day of the week.

  What happened to the girl he had met only a few days ago, who had steadfastly refused to come out of the kitchen and recognise her own talent and excellence? Now she looked relaxed. In control and comfortable in such exalted company.

  A large lump ached in his throat. He was so proud of her. Proud of everything she had achieved. No matter what happened with the contest, Daisy was the winner. He could see it in everything about her—the way she held her body, the way she smiled and laughed with her hands flying about everywhere. She was stunning. And happy.

  His Daisy was happy.

  He sucked in a long breath and lifted his head as he made his way around the edge of the crowded dining room towards her. Constant interruptions and greetings from fellow growers and conference delegates who had made him so welcome only the day before blocked his path at every step, and it seemed to take hours instead of minutes to finally reach the spot where she had been standing.

  He suppressed the joyous bubble of happiness that came from the special spot deep inside his chest which he had thought frozen, never to be thawed again. But that had been before he’d laid eyes on this strange, quirky little red-haired girl who was a source of constant change and excitement. She had whipped away the carpet from below his feet the moment he had seen her standing behind the counter at the food festival, and he still felt as though he was walking on quicksand.

  With this girl he never knew what to expect from one minute to the next!

  And he loved it.

  Time to let her know that he had arrived.

  ‘Daisy,’ he whispered, and she spun around—then froze.

  Her eyes widened as he gazed straight at her, the heat of the blush on her cheeks matching the warmth of the smile that turned up both sides of her mouth.

  Her hair was down, her make-up a slick of mascara and a lipgloss that was mostly deposited on the wine glass she was holding in her hand, and yet the look in those eyes as they smiled at him across the group of people that strolled between them told him everything he needed to know.

  It was as though the spirit of the girl who was Daisy Flynn was shining through for him alone. She was totally dazzling, making every other woman appear dull and lifeless and without talent or sparkle.

  She was totally, devastatingly beautiful.

  Forget the contest, forget the crowds, and forget the hotel managing director, who had given him a wave before moving back towards the judging table. All that mattered was Daisy. He needed to talk to her and share his exciting news. He simply wanted to be with her.

  She took a step forward, her eyes never leaving his.

  ‘I got your message. And I decided to take your advice and come out of the kitchen and enjoy myself. Thank you. You’re late, by the way.’

  ‘You’re most welcome. And I’m sorry for being late. You look … beautiful.’

  Her mouth widened into a grin so wide it blocked out the rest of the room. He had never seen her grin like that before, and if a few simple words from him were capable of having that effect then he would have to repeat them again and again, until she knew that they were true.

  ‘Then you are totally forgiven,’ she replied, biting her lower lip.

  She slid closer and reached out to flick an imaginary piece of fluff from his jacket, then pressed the palms of her hands against his chest.

  ‘I was beginning to think you were going to stand me up, Max Treveleyn.’

  ‘Me? Never. There were things I needed to do before I could start my new life with the woman I love.’

  Her eyes widened in shocked surprise, but before she could reply Max took the initiative and slipped his hands onto her waist, his gaze never leaving her lovely face.

  ‘You’ve stolen my heart, Daisy Flynn,’ he whispered across the tiny space that separated them. ‘I want to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much I love you.’

  ‘On St Lucia?’ Daisy replied, her forefinger tracing a gentle circle on his cheek.

  ‘Possibly. Apparently this hotel chain is considering a wonderful new location on that particular island which was offered to them only today. On an organic cocoa plantation, of all places. Imagine that? It will be an eco project which will guarantee tourism and jobs and sell lots and lots of cocoa. But our home doesn’t have to be there. I love St Lucia, and I know you could too, but your happiness means everything to me. I don’t want to make the same mistake again. Just tell me where you want to go and I will take you there. My home is where you are, Daisy. On St Lucia, or in London, or Paris, or wherever else you want to go.’

  Daisy touched both sides of his face with her fingertips, tears glistening in her amazing green eyes.

  ‘Then take me home with you. To St Lucia.’

  Max blinked several times as the impact of what she was saying hit home.

  ‘You astonish me. No wonder I love you.’

  ‘And I thought you were only after me for my chocolate boobs,’ she teased.

  ‘Oh, a lot more than that,’ he retorted lovingly.

  Stepping into the circle of his arms, Daisy wrapped her arms around his neck, stood on tiptoe and kissed him. Lovingly, longingly, deeply. Completely ignoring the hoots and cheers from the other diners at this prestigious conference, and calls about their finding a room.

  ‘Daddy! Daddy! I’m over here, Daddy.’

  Daisy whipped around just in time as a slim little blonde girl in a pink party dress propelled herself out of the crowd and wrapped her arms like a limpet around Max’s thigh.

  ‘Hey, look who made it just in time for dinner,’ Max said as he hoisted her up into his arms. ‘It’s the lovely Freya. Have you left your mum behind somewhere?’

  The little girl nodded and pointed in the direction of the entrance. ‘Mummy had to talk to a man about the car, but I couldn’t wait to see you, Daddy. I couldn’t wait one minute more.’

  ‘Well, I’m so glad you’re here, poppet.’ Max grinned and rubbed his nose against Freya’s, making her giggle. ‘Because
there is someone I want you to meet. Do you remember what I said to you earlier? About the pretty lady who is baking lovely cakes with the chocolate I make? Well, here she is. This is Freya, my little girl. And, Freya, this is Daisy, who is going to be your new stepmother.’

  Freya, of course, immediately tried to bury her head in her father’s shoulder.

  ‘Freya’s pretending to be shy right now, but you wait and see what happens when the chocolate cake comes out. Oh, yes.’

  Freya peeked out at Daisy, who smiled back at her, and something must have worked because then Freya sniffed and declared to the world in a loud voice, ‘My daddy is the best daddy in the whole world, and he makes the bestest chocolate. And I am going to stay at his house on the island and see where the chocolate comes from and everything.’

  Daisy nodded wisely. ‘You are obviously an expert, because I completely agree with you. He does make the bestest chocolate in the world. I think that’s why I love him so much.’

  ‘You do?’ Freya asked, wide-eyed. ‘Cool.’ And she gave Daisy a huge toothy grin.

  ‘Oh yes,’ Daisy replied with a nod. Then she blinked at Max. ‘Did you just say stepmother? I can’t be a stepmother. I’m twenty-eight. It’s against the law to be a stepmother at twenty-eight. Don’t I need some kind of specialist training for the role? It could be risky.’

  ‘Very. But I’m tempted to take the risk if you are,’ Max said, leaning towards her, tempted once again by her glorious lips.

  ‘Dad! Stop kissing Daisy. This is so embarrassing.’

  ‘Sorry, sweetie. That’s something you are going to have to get used to.’

  EPILOGUE

  DAISY snatched a calming breath of the warm perfumed breeze as Tara checked for the third time in fifteen minutes that Daisy’s coronet of fragrant frangipani blossom, jasmine and pale yellow orchids was not in danger of going anywhere soon, before running out to try and track down Freya, who had hit the coral-tinged beach running an hour ago and not been seen since.

 

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