Xander hung his jacket over a chair and slipped off his tie, dropping it on top of his jacket. He took a bottle of mineral water out onto the balcony of his penthouse apartment. The sound of Jenny’s off-key singing from the shower melted into the sound of waves shushing into the sandy cove and the controlled hum of the air-conditioning.
He pulled the door closed behind him and strolled across, leaning on the rolled and polished railing as he drank. A sea breeze cooled his face and the tang of salt mingled with the scent of sun-warmed flowers. A lush carpet of subtropical planting surrounded the main complex, but his gaze was drawn to the ocean. Deep blue stretched from the horizon to the rocky headland that separated the resort from farmland and the town of Rainbow Cove, gradually shading into a lighter blue before running up onto the sand of the cove.
Breathing deeply, he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it out of his trousers, allowing himself a few moments to relax and enjoy the prospect of time with his sister.
He needed to be near the sea, smelling the salt. Sea and sand and salt-laden air invigorated him, almost as much as successfully concluding another renovation. If negotiations went well, his next resort purchase would add another dimension to his work, another challenge. A jewel in his property portfolio and the crown in his business.
A flash of yellow caught his eye. Down by the pool Flick Ardmore took off her hat and spoke to one of the poolside staff. She’d made good time over the last kilometre, but even from four floors up he could see her face and arms had caught the sun. At least he’d been able to transport her gear for her, which reminded him …
He went inside, sat at his desk and rang down to reception. ‘Phil, has Ms Ardmore checked in yet?’
‘No, sir. She asked if we could store her luggage for a couple of hours, but she didn’t request accommodation.’
‘Well, when she does—’
‘Mr McIntyre, I don’t think she plans to take a room. She mentioned something about how lovely it would be to have a holiday here and then asked me if there were camping facilities within walking distance.’
Camping? Flick had asked him about camping this morning, but he’d put it down to her not knowing his resort existed.
And she walked from the shopping centre. Sure, it’s only five kilometres, but …
Three taxis had been waiting at the rank when he crossed the road to the car rental business and Flick had left the café with him, headed for a meeting with the tow truck.
An image of her small, elderly car with its crumpled front and rear came to mind. Perhaps it was a question of money and camping was all she could afford. But if that were the case, why had she made the effort to walk out to the resort with her gear?
‘When she returns for her luggage, don’t let her leave before you let me know. I need to speak with her.’
He hung up as Jenny perched on a breakfast stool between the kitchen bench and the satinwood desk. A loose yellow and orange and hot pink dress covered something yellow.
‘Are those your new swimmers under your dress? You look like sunshine.’
Jenny nodded and ran her hands over the dress, stroking it and smiling the wide smile Xander had hoped to see during their holiday. Was this the next step her doctor had spoken about? After waving goodbye to their mother as she boarded the plane home, he’d been psyching himself up for a bad reaction when she saw the hire car instead of his silver Beamer. There’d been none, and now Jenny appeared to have settled into the apartment.
Come to that, he hadn’t expected her to chat freely with Flick either.
Maybe there’s something in the power of bright yellow and an optimistic outlook.
‘Can we go for a swim now, Xander? I want to swim.’
‘Can you wait for me to get changed?’
‘If you don’t take long.’
Xander pulled a small bottle of water from the fridge, opened it and handed it to his sister. ‘By the time you finish drinking that I’ll be ready. Okay?’
Ten minutes later, Xander led Jenny to a pool lounge in the shade of the building. He set the plunger bottle of sunscreen on the table and squirted a generous dollop onto his hand. ‘Put your towel over the back of the lounger where you can see it when you get out of the pool. I’ll put sunscreen on your back while you do your—’
He turned his hand to apply the sunscreen and met—empty air. A blob of cream hit the pavers. Jenny waved as she headed with her rolling sailor walk towards a lounger half-hidden from his view by a giant leafy plant in an oversized planter box. ‘Flick. See my yellow swimmers? I’m going swimming. Are you swimming too?’
A pair of tanned legs swung over the edge of the lounger and next thing, Flick was standing beside the plant and smiling as Jenny made a beeline for her. ‘Hi. No, I haven’t brought my bathers but I thought I’d sit in the shade and cool off. Hi, Xander.’
He strolled over and joined Flick, taking the opportunity to apply the sunscreen to Jenny’s back and shoulders. ‘Glad to see you arrived safely. Have you ordered a drink yet?’
If he’d blinked he’d have missed the shuttered look that flitted across Flick’s face before she shook her head. What that look meant was still unclear as he wiped his hands on his board shorts.
‘I’m good. I had a drink of water.’
‘That’s a start, but that was only the first half of my recommendation. Now for the second part.’ He caught the waiter’s eye and beckoned him over. Jenny reached over and picked up Flick’s yellow hat from the sunlounge. She set it on her head and laughed as she caught her reflection in the plate-glass window. ‘Jenny, it isn’t polite to take other people’s belongings.’
Jenny’s face fell, and she thrust her chin forward, usually a precursor to a meltdown.
But Flick adjusted the sun hat on Jenny’s head and turned her to look at her reflection again. ‘It’s not a problem. Besides, Jenny needs to know if she likes it before she gets one of her own. What do you think, Jenny? Would you like a hat like mine?’
Breathing a sigh of relief, Xander made a mental note to go online at the earliest opportunity and find Jenny a hat like Flick’s. ‘Thanks. That was quick thinking.’
The waiter arrived and raised a mini iPad to record their order.
Xander turned to Flick. ‘I’ll get you that pina colada now, unless you’d prefer a different drink.’
‘Oh, no thanks. I’m sure it’s delicious but—’
‘On me.’
‘I couldn’t. You shouted me morning tea. If anything, I should really buy you a drink.’ There it was again; that odd fleeting expression, as though she didn’t want to offend him, but was uncomfortable about him buying her a drink.
Why was he pushing it?
His analytical brain couldn’t let it rest. He ticked off a mental list. Old car—sidestepped my question about no taxis—and there’s the mystery of why she bothered to walk five Ks to a resort she probably can’t afford.
Spreading his hands, he kept his tone gentle, undemanding, pleasant. ‘Flick, it’s no big deal. I’m getting drinks for Jenny and for me, and I’d like it if you’d join us. And since this was my suggestion …’ He ordered the cocktail, a juice for Jenny and a light beer.
‘Can I swim now, Xander?’
‘Sure, but leave Flick’s hat with her. She won’t want it to get wet. Look what Rob’s brought out for you.’
The hot pink inflatable flamingo ring drew a squeal of delight from Jenny. She stuck her head and arms through the opening and walked down the wide, pebbledash steps into the shallow end of the pool. Xander kept an eye on her as he led Flick to the table beside his sister’s lounger.
Flick gripped the strap of her ethnic bag and looked less than happy—with him? Jenny splashed in the pool as Flick perched on the edge of the cushioned seat. ‘Look, about that cocktail—’
‘I invited you to join us. It’s just a drink, Flick. Please don’t read anything more into it than that.’
She frowned briefly before fixing a smile on her face. ‘Thanks. That’s kind of you.’
‘So, what are your plans while you wait to hear about your car? Will you book into a room here for a few days?’ It wasn’t his business, but beneath the outward confidence and can-do attitude he glimpsed vulnerability. Not that Flick was a project, but if he could do something to help—
It’s just that my car rammed hers and I feel partially responsible for her loss.
If his hotel security had been properly in place, the theft and accident wouldn’t have happened.
‘I—can’t afford to stay in a place like this, but you mentioned your friend, the chef. I thought I would see if he’s hiring and if he might have a vacancy.’ Beneath the light sunburn, her cheeks turned a darker shade of pink. ‘Not that I want you to ask him for me.’
Xander remembered what it was like to make every dollar count. ‘I appreciate that, but I’d be happy to take you to the kitchens and introduce you to Christophe when Jenny’s had enough of the pool.’
She bent her head and blinked several times before meeting his gaze. Blue eyes glistened. ‘Thank you. That’s very kind of you.’
The waiter arrived with a bowl of assorted nuts and three drinks, which he set on coasters. ‘Will there be anything else?’
‘Nothing more for now thanks, Rob.’ Xander picked up his beer glass and tapped it against Flick’s cocktail glass. ‘Here’s to landing a job with Christophe.’
She sipped the pina colada and set the glass on a cardboard coaster. ‘I’m a pastry chef, but I’ll take anything if he offers.’
‘Desserts, hey? No wonder you could tell a good slice at ten paces.’
‘Xander.’ Jenny splashed water at him. Most landed on his bare feet and a few drops splashed up Flick’s legs. ‘Come in the pool, Xander. Come and swim with me.’
He glanced at Flick’s legs. ‘Sorry about that. She may be in there for a while. Sit back and enjoy your drink and—thanks for understanding Jenny’s fascination with all things yellow.’
***
Xander led the way into the kitchens at the rear of the resort. He strode, hoping Flick understood his need to fulfil his promise to her as quickly as possible and get his sister back to their apartment. Jenny was tuckered out and becoming grumpy and he didn’t dare leave her at the retro milk bar with Mel for more than a couple of minutes.
Please let Christophe be in the kitchen and happy to take on a potential new chef.
‘This way, Flick.’ Xander held one half of the swing doors open and ushered her into the resort’s main kitchen. Christophe’s tall figure and bare forearms were nowhere in sight, but he could be in the cold room or any one of half a dozen places. That’s what being hands on meant to his friend. ‘It’s organised chaos at its finest. Christophe is a perfectionist in culinary art.’
Flick’s gaze ran across the white and stainless-steel scene before them. ‘It looks efficient and smells wonderful.’
‘Chris runs it like a military operation, but the food that comes out of his kitchen is world-class.’ Guests shouldn’t be here, but, given the circumstances, Xander trusted Christophe would excuse him bringing Flick into the heart of the kitchen instead of the office to meet him. He breathed deeply, savouring the flavours of another of Christophe’s French-focused menus. Despite what his friend thought of Xander’s taste, he appreciated good food.
‘So it’s not just food in his hands?’ Flick grinned. ‘Your words this morning.’
‘You got me. But Chris definitely has a love affair with each dish he creates. What was your comment? It’s never just food when made with love. Bliss in every bite?’
‘You remember that?’ Flick’s astonished expression drew a grin from him, a grin he tried to hide as Andy, the resort manager, approached. His smart black suit and name badge with the resort logo were out of place in the kitchen. A twinge of unease ran with spider-light legs down Xander’s spine.
‘Andy, has Christophe come in yet?’
Andy shook his head and steepled his fingers beneath his chin. ‘He was here, but there was a problem with the seafood delivery. He’s gone to sort it out.’
‘Because he trusts nobody else when it’s about his beloved bouillabaisse. I get it.’
‘Can I help?’ Andy rounded the counter. His gaze landed on Flick and his eyes widened in appreciation, just for a moment, before his professional training took over.
Only one moment, but it was like a light switch turned on in Xander’s brain. In the car park at the shopping centre, his emotions had been riding a tide of anger over his car and angst over his sister’s arrival. Flick had been little more than a fellow driver he’d felt sorry for. But in the café, he’d noticed her. Noticed a pair of sad blue eyes, a lush mouth, and vulnerability beneath her snarky responses.
His gaze was drawn back to her mouth, to lips pink with the last of her lipstick and tilted up at the corners like they were used to smiling. He’d noticed her … And so had every male staffer in the kitchen.
A proprietary sense had him raising an arm to her waist, but at the last moment, he dropped it on the counter beside her hip.
Windblown hair and a flush of sunburn added to her appeal; Flick was an attractive woman. Auburn hair fell past her shoulders and framed a heart-shaped face. Dark blue eyes were bright with energy as she watched Christophe’s team move in well-oiled synchronicity. He held few doubts this was her domain too.
He scanned the kitchen for signs of Chris. How the hell was he going to handle the coincidence of showing up with a slim, attractive stranger just days after avowing he had no time for a relationship? And if he protested too much, Chris would be sure to take it the wrong way.
But was it the wrong way? A strange reluctance to hand her over to Andy made a mockery of Xander’s protestations. He checked the time on his watch. Jenny needed him and he couldn’t wait any longer.
He turned to Andy. ‘This is Felicity Ardmore—Flick. She’s a pastry chef looking for short-term work and I wanted to introduce her to Christophe, but my sister is out at the milk bar—alone—and very tired.’
‘I can make the introductions and I’ll let Christophe know Miss Jenny will love a special dessert for this evening. Something to welcome your sister to Rainbow Cove.’
‘Good call, thanks, Andy.’ It was the sensible thing to do. He slapped a lid on the spark of reluctance to leave Flick with Andy and turned to her. ‘Do you mind if I leave Andy to introduce you to Chris when he gets back?’
Flick lightly touched his arm. ‘I’ll be fine. Thanks so much for doing as much as you have for a complete stranger. I really appreciate your help.’ Her eyes were bright and her smile more genuine than the forced one she’d given him in the café and by the pool.
It was a smile that—as much as he loved his sister—would have tempted him to spend the evening getting to know this woman better. But Jenny was waiting. His sister needed him, and he needed to put aside the odd reaction Flick elicited in him.
‘Perhaps you can find a room in the staff quarters for Ms Ardmore and arrange for the delivery of her luggage when the police retrieve it from her car.’
‘With pleasure.’
‘But what if Christophe doesn’t hire me?’
‘You need somewhere to stay tonight, but I doubt you’ll have anything to worry about.’ If Flick’s skills and résumé matched her passion for food, Chris would want her for his restaurant. ‘I have to get back to Jenny.’
‘Of course. Thank you.’
As Xander walked away, Andy led Flick in the other direction. And now Xander would have to get a move on. Leaving Jenny when she needed a rest was a recipe for disaster.
***
Andy’s phone rang, a subtle chirp like a cicada in summer. ‘Excuse me, Flick.’
‘Of course.’ Flick itched to get in and start baking alongside the kitchen staff. It wasn’t just her parents’ impending divorce and her voluntary disbarment from Pecorino. She needed to create delicate desserts. Talking about her passion to Andy while Christophe’s kitchen hummed like a beautiful, well-oiled machine triggered a need to get in and create.
Andy closed his phone and banged a ladle on the stainless-steel counter, waiting until all the staff looked at him. ‘Everyone, we have a problem. Christophe is stuck on the highway with a shredded tyre and his spare is flat. He’s waiting for the roadside assist service, but apparently it will be a long wait. We have the Truman engagement party booked in this evening. Where are we at in preparation for it?’
The sous-chef handed Andy a menu. ‘Entrées and mains are under control, but Chris had planned to make that dessert tower for them.’
‘Thanks, Jake.’ Andy checked off the menu before looking at Flick. ‘Christophe won’t be getting in any time soon. Sorry, Flick, but I doubt you’ll get a chance to talk with him tonight.’
‘As in he’ll be flat out catching up when he does get back? No problem. I understand.’ It was all very well for Xander to assume his friend would be happy to hire her, but how could she accept lodgings for the night if she didn’t get a chance to speak to the chef? If she wasn’t employed at the resort, she had no right to a room in the staff accommodation.
Jake frowned and pointed at the item at the bottom of the engagement menu. ‘Andy, what are we going to do about the cake?’
Flick took a step away. ‘Look, maybe I should head back into town and—’
Andy’s eyes narrowed, his gaze settled on her and his manner switched into manager mode. ‘Look, this might be a bit unusual, but Xander said you want to work here and … Xander said you’re a pastry chef. I’m thinking your specialty might just save the day.’
Flick’s hopes rose, poised like a rollercoaster ready to fly into the biggest loop of the ride. ‘What do you need?’
Andy took her elbow, turned on his heel and led her into a changing room. ‘Spare jackets et cetera in that cupboard. Do you have appropriate shoes with you or are they still in your vehicle?’
‘They’re in my backpack, but—what are you doing?’
‘The engagement party booked into the restaurant this evening specially requested a—’ Andy scrolled through the calendar on his phone, enlarged an image and turned the screen so Flick could see.
‘A croquembouche.’ She’d made one just like it for her final exam.
‘Can you make one of those before eight o’clock tonight?’
***
Flick added tiny, edible purple flowers around her towering croquembouche and stepped back to admire the result. The fine netting of angel hair toffee glistened around the profiterole tower. She rolled her shoulders and relaxed tense muscles, happy with what she’d produced, hopeful it would win over Christophe—who still hadn’t returned.
A flicker of white moved into the edge of her vision and a man in a chef’s jacket bent towards her creation, turning the platter around slowly until he’d seen it from all sides. ‘Like Lady Liberty—perfect from every angle.’
He crossed his arms and the sleeves of his chef’s jacket crept up, revealing strong forearms and big hands with neat fingernails. His French accent and proprietorial attitude gave Flick hope.
‘Are you Christophe?’
‘I am. And who are you, little queen of cakes?’ His accent reminded Flick of the pastry chef she’d studied under.
‘Flick Ardmore. I was waiting to meet you when Andy got your call to say you had broken down.’
‘And why did you want to meet me?’
‘Xander commented this morning that my philosophy about food was very similar to yours. I’m—looking for work and I came to ask if you were hiring.’
‘Xander said that? Interesting. Perhaps beneath his suit and workaholism, he is a romantic after all.’
Had Xander made comments to Christophe similar to his ‘It’s just food’ in the café this morning?
She rushed on, keen to explain how she came to be cooking in his kitchen. ‘I was talking to Andy before you called him. Andy asked me to make this for tonight’s booking … the engagement party? He said it was an opportunity to show you what I can do as well as not disappoint the bride-to-be and her family.’
‘That was very clever of him.’ Christophe’s gaze narrowed, and Flick held her breath, hoping that she hadn’t annoyed him by taking over this small corner of his busy kitchen. ‘And very—lucky for me.’
Lucky? Did that mean—?
‘I have my résumé in my backpack. I’m hoping this—’ she indicated the profiterole tower ‘—demonstrates what you’ll be getting if you take me on.’ Despite knowing her creation was well-executed, her heart thudded. Was it what the master chef had intended? What if—?
Christophe broke apart one of the unused puffs and tasted a morsel before breaking off a second piece and scooping leftover cream filling from the bowl. He ate it, nodding as he chewed and swallowed. ‘Parfait—it tastes as good as it looks. I could not have done better myself. It is as if my good friend Xander saw my need and brought you here. You have—what is it that Andy says? Oui, you have saved my bacon. Consider yourself hired.’