New Year’s Eve parties were in full swing in every public area of the resort. The private function room Xander had selected to celebrate wrapping up the renovations was equally as noisy as contractors mingled with company staff.
Christophe had promised a triumph of a cake to suit the end of work on the resort, and to farewell Xander and his core company staff.
The double doors opened, and Chris and another white-jacketed figure wheeled in a trolley with a four-tiered cake in a realistic facsimile of the resort. Blue icing and miniature palm trees completed the image. As they positioned the cart for the official photos, the person beside Chris turned around. Beneath the chef’s hat, Xander got his first glimpse of Flick since Christmas Day.
Shadows underlined her eyes and she seemed slimmer—too slim. Her chef’s outfit hung loose and an air of fragility clung to her. Until their eyes met and he saw steely resolve glinting in hers. He nodded in greeting, receiving the barest nod in return before she turned away.
Chris looked from one to the other before putting a hand on her shoulder and leaning close to speak to her. Flick nodded in response to whatever he said and slid away behind the serving cart as Xander approached.
Chris turned to him. ‘I have somewhere else I need to be, mon ami. Flick has agreed to stay on and oversee the cake cutting and distribution. But—’ he gripped Xander’s arm ‘—be nice to my pastry chef.’
‘I have every intention of being nice, but I should warn you—I still plan to try and win her away from you.’
Chris tutted. ‘It won’t be easy. Be very sure what you offer her is what you both want, not just what you would like to be true.’
‘Wish me luck.’
Chris held out his hand. ‘Even though it will lose me the best pastry chef I’ve ever had, I wish you bonne chance, mon ami.’ He pulled Xander in for a man-hug and then, with a glint in his eyes, kissed both his cheeks. ‘Happy New Year.’
At the other end of the cake cart, Flick stood unmoving, her hands folded in front of her. Her casual stance didn’t fool Xander. She was as highly strung as on Christmas Day, after receiving her father’s news about Pecorino.
Once the speeches had been made and the cake had been cut, they were going to talk.
Properly and openly about them.
As various representatives spoke, congratulated one another and Xander and his company for bringing so much employment to Rainbow Cove over the past couple of years, Xander could barely contain his need for it to be over. When finally it was his turn, he kept his thanks and congratulations brief. ‘Now let’s cut this stunning cake.’
Flick handed him the handle of a heavy kitchen knife. He allowed his fingers to brush hers, pleased when she reacted with a soft gasp. A hint of pink coloured her cheeks and for a few brief moments, their gazes held and the noise and sway of bodies faded.
Slow clapping reminded Xander … he had one more duty to perform and then he could begin his exit strategy. Looking around at the assembly, he smiled before plunging the knife into the top layer. Flashes erupted from a multitude of phone cameras. Flick edged away.
As the number of flashes dwindled, he turned to Flick. ‘This is where you take over.’
All week he’d wondered how to breach the wall between them. Nothing had felt right, but those words were perfect. He would remind her of them as soon as they were alone.
***
Flick couldn’t ignore how much Xander’s reaction to her work meant. She had needed to make the last thing she ever did for him something special, and the cake had turned out brilliantly.
And now it was over.
Quietly she stacked used plates on the lower shelf and pulled the trolley cover across to hide them. She sliced a few more pieces of cake and set them out neatly on the serving platter. Then, checking there was nothing more to be done, she edged past several groups and slipped through the door.
Her phone vibrated. She pulled it from her pocket and opened a New Year greeting from Dad. He’d attached a photo taken somewhere on Southbank. But it wasn’t the fizzing fireworks that caught her attention. Dad’s arm was around a woman a little younger than him. A woman who was vaguely familiar …
Flick looked more closely. That’s Karen. The neighbour who, with her two sons, had taken in Flick’s horse, Dusty, the year after her divorce. Now her father was living at the Bay again, it looked as though he’d reconnected with Karen. In the best possible timing.
Flick zoomed in. Dad’s smile was like the one he used to wear when she was little, back when their family had been happy and complete and her parents had still been in love.
His message simply read: Happy New Year. Ours got off to a great start. Dad xx.
Leaning against a palm tree Flick closed her eyes. Well done, Dad.
She was happy for him. He deserved to be happy. Deserved someone who would make him laugh. Someone he might one day find a new love with.
Like I thought I’d found with Xander.
She pressed a hand over her aching heart. She’d made it through the evening, got through seeing Xander one last time and stayed strong. And now she was going to …
‘Flick, I hoped to catch up with you tonight.’
Grey eyes met hers and the intensity of his scrutiny hit her like a sledgehammer. She hadn’t planned for this. Christophe had assured her when he asked for her assistance there would be no need to talk to Xander. Gathering the remnants of her pride close, she raised her chin. ‘Mr McIntyre, Happy New Year to you. I wish I could stay but I still have work to do.’
‘Chris told me you were off duty once the cake had been handed out.’ He took her hand. His thumb brushed her skin.
Tingles that were both a delight and torture ran through her and she couldn’t stop herself leaning towards him.
‘Please, Flick, come for a walk with me. There are things you need to hear, things you—’
She wouldn’t call him uncertain; Xander was never indecisive. It was more like he was opening himself up to her and giving her a choice.
Which made no sense, because there were no more choices left to make.
But she couldn’t help herself. ‘What do I need to hear?’
‘Can we walk down to the beach? Please?’
She pressed her lips together, wanting—needing—to turn down his request. But curiosity, always her strength but now her weakness, won out. She needed to know what he had to say. ‘Okay.’
They walked through a side entrance and into the humid air. She pulled off her chef’s hat and unbuttoned her jacket.
‘Feel better?’ Xander took her hand in his again.
She knew he meant losing her work clothes, but holding his hand made her feel better too. ‘Yes.’
He waited until they reached their stretch of beach, the more distant northern end. It was quieter up here away from the beach bonfire and the dancing, although bass notes from the music carried on the breeze. They sat on the sand side by side before he spoke again. ‘I’ve always prided myself on getting all the details and making informed decisions in my business activities, but I forgot that real life is more than just facts. It’s also hopes and dreams and messy emotions, intangible things, but they cloud our thinking. I’m sorry I forgot that and hurt you. I have no excuse to offer, but I promise I’ll do my best to never hurt you again.’
Momentarily stunned, she shook her head. ‘Loving me isn’t enough, not when we want different things. I can love you with every fibre of my body and still we’ll end up hating each another when our dreams and goals are so different. You need to move. I need to stay, develop friends, become part of a community. Dammit Xander, I need stability.’
‘You’re right. I understand that now. In my defence, I was excited at the idea of us working and travelling together, but I overlooked the key part of your dream. I won’t do that again.’
‘Xander, I—’
‘Please, hear me out, that’s all I ask. Then, the choice is yours. It’s always been yours, but I want to make it easy for you to choose me. So … when you know where you want to set up your business, together, we can look for a house or an apartment nearby. I’ll do most of my work from home, with occasional overnight stays wherever my current project is. What do you think?’
She’d sworn she was done with crying, but the bonfire blurred and wavered as she looked at Xander. ‘But you’ve always said your way of working was hands on, managing every detail; that that’s why your projects work so well. If you aren’t there all the time, maybe you’ll come to resent me keeping you from your work.’
‘I am hands on, and that’s in every part of my life. I can happily work if I’m on site for a couple of days each week. I can’t live without being hands on with you. Flick, I love you. I want to fall asleep each night with you in my arms and wake each morning with you beside me. If I can’t have that, what’s the point in working so damned hard?’
Wonder, happiness, the reality of her dreams—all of them—there for the taking … She drew in a deep breath, daring to hope. ‘You’d really do that for me?’
‘Yes. You’re my dream, what I want my life to be. What do you say?’
‘I’m happy here in Rainbow Cove for now.’
‘Then we can live here until you decide where you want to build or buy your patisserie.’ Gently he drew her to her feet.
‘But your project—it’s in the Whitsundays.’
‘It is, but it’s just work. All that makes life worth living is wherever you are. I don’t care what our address is, so long as you’re there to say I’m home every night.’
She turned to look around the cove. It was beautiful and welcoming, but it was just a place. The scenery didn’t matter. The address was irrelevant. All that mattered was the man who stood in front of her, his hands resting on her hips. Wherever he was, she would be. Together they made any place home.
She slipped a hand around his neck and pulled him close. ‘I say Happy New Year, Xander. Now kiss me.’
‘Always, darling.’
In the distance voices rose in unison counting down to a bright new beginning. ‘… four, three, two, one—Happy New Year!’ Fireworks lit the sky, sparkling over the water in bursts of colour.
They were the colour of her dreams—their dreams.
Together.