No. Totally impossible. The always-immaculate, dressed for success, ever proper and correct Ms. Jellicoe, marketing director, always so concerned about bean counting at the expense of artistic creativity, would never disport herself in this fashion … . Or would she? Intrigued, Paul noted that this woman didn’t look quite the way his boss normally did. Apart from the casual clothes, the hair was more funky. Was that only because she’d messed with the style? At work she wore it longer, sleeker. Although, come to think of it, she might have had it cut yesterday, in preparation for the long summer weekend. On the other hand, maybe she had a twin sister?
Now she was pulling off her boots and shoving her feet into sneakers. Paul’s gaze traveled down her legs. He liked a trim ankle and these were almost as neat a pair as Jade’s. He was very familiar with those because he took every opportunity to admire them. But there was a difference. The golden skin of this woman’s right ankle was adorned with a tattoo depicting three stars and a crescent moon.
Okay, so most likely it wasn’t his boss — unless the tattoo was one of those temporary adornments. Besides, the whole picture didn’t sit right. Motorcycle? Tattoos? Spiky hair? Totally out of character for prim, uptight Jade Jellicoe. Paul drew in a breath, pushed out his chest, and made a decision. Somehow, somewhere between here and South Bay Harbor, he’d find out exactly who this babe was.
In fact, bearing in mind he had four full hours of sixty minutes each to while away, a little low-key confrontation might be fun. Except, right now she was exchanging words with a two young girls.
He waited until they’d moved off with a couple who he presumed were their parents, pushed himself away from the car and strode forward.
• • •
Jade cast one glance at a glowering Paul, seized her fanny pack and hightailed it for the main ferry building. The same sick panic she’d felt before sent her into a clammy sweat. Footsteps crunched ominously close behind her. She quickened her pace, pulled open the glass door, then immediately released the handle. With luck it would shut before he got to it, granting her a few seconds’ grace. A blast of heat hit her as it opened again. He was almost on her!
She had to get away!
Fortunately a haven waited just ahead. Taking a sharp turn, she shoved open the swing door of the women’s washroom and let it slam behind her.
Inside, she leaned against a pillar, breathing fast. For the second time this morning, blind instinct had taken over.
What on earth was she going to do? Pretend she wasn’t herself? Which would be kind of close to the truth.
The faint smell of chlorine engulfed her. At the sinks, she ran her hands appreciatively under the stream of cool water, then held them beneath the blasting dryer until she was afraid her skin would show signs of too-rapid aging. Not even in the interests of avoiding Paul R.G. did she want to emerge looking like a tortoise.
After that she primped, applied another layer of sunscreen to her already slathered skin and made sure her hair was spiked into neat triangles. That took a while. She leaned forward and made a kissy-kissy face at herself, wiggling her bum. A little girl came in, took one look at Jade, and giggled. She scuttled into a stall, quickly locking the door, but that did little to stifle the sounds of her mirth.
Jade was about to search out her lipstick and eyeliner when she paused. Think Serendipity, forget Jade. Spending time on her appearance was what she did on workdays. At all other times she reverted to being Serendipity, offspring of flower children and the Age of Aquarius. Jade, the modern, driven, career woman was left behind in the city.
This weekend was important, hers to enjoy, and she wasn’t going to allow the unexpected encounter with Paul R.G. to spoil it. If she didn’t manage to shake him off, she’d simply be Serendipity, not Jade, and let him deal with that however he wished.
She emerged from the washroom and spotted him lurking. He may be tall and lanky, but he was a long way from being skinny enough to hide behind a wire carousel displaying a selection of postcards and pamphlets. She watched him pick out a postcard and examine it more closely. This was her chance. Slinking as quietly as she could, she escaped out the side door.
A few yards ahead of Jade, a family of German tourists wandered toward the wharf-side restaurants. Earlier, in the line up for the ferry, the two teen-aged daughters had responded to her comment on the beautiful day with a few struggling words.
Why not attach herself to the small group?
She smiled at them. “Hi. Are you going for something to eat?”
The father and mother exchanged puzzled looks. Then the mother said politely, if somewhat cautiously, “To eat. Ja.”
“Maybe I can help you order. You know, talk to the waiter, whatever.”
Despite the German family’s surprise, she stuck with them. When they sat down on white plastic chairs on the restaurant patio, she did the same. The sick-yet-excited feeling in her gut made her rebel at the thought of food. She’d simply help the Germans with their order, get a glass of water, and keep a beady eye on Paul R.G. If he wandered off, she’d know he’d given up on pursuing her.
She caught a glimpse of him, not far away. One foot up on the guard railing, hands in pockets, he stood looking toward the hill on the other side of the harbor. The breeze plastered his tee shirt to his long torso. That familiar jolt of attraction hit her and along with it, a fantasy. Maybe he had his eyes on the bakeshop and was imagining sinking those pearly teeth of his into a pastry or a succulent slice of pizza. Jade’s mouth began to water. All these weeks of repressing her lust were having their revenge. Big time.
A catamaran with tall sails glided smoothly toward the quay. Jade’s practiced eye took in the length and estimated it to be a forty footer. All the while, she kept Paul in her peripheral vision. He was watching the crew lower the sails and maneuver into a berth. Maybe he was imagining taking off on a sailing trip. She could just see him on a yacht, cap perched jauntily on his head … .
After struggling to make conversation and maintain her welcome with the tourists in what was an increasingly heavy task, she registered Paul had finally moved on. Ignoring the grumblings of her stomach, she swallowed the last of the melted ice in her plastic glass and stood up, ready to forget all about him.
Fat chance.
No sooner had she relaxed and started to think she might get some food than she spotted him examining items in a window display as intently as any other dedicated shopper. Her eyes seemed to have a magnetic, radar-like ability to hone in on the guy. Briefly she wondered how he could find an assortment of flags so fascinating. Maybe he was looking them over like he did his office conquests. And here she was, sounding nasty. Just because he was popular with the female staff didn’t mean he was an office Lothario. Necessarily.
This was ridiculous. In a small town like Tobermory, losing him might prove impossible and no way was she going to spend the remaining three hours dodging Paul while they waited for the ferry. As Jade, she would have hung back, but Serendipity … ah yes, Serendipity could be forward.
But prudence couldn’t be completely tossed to the seagulls. There was one more precaution she could take. Inspired by Eliza Doolittle in My Fair Lady and Lady Margaret Thatcher’s successful voice training, early in her career Jade had consulted a voice coach. She’d taken lessons and learned to lower her tones in order to sound more serious, more professional. All she had to do when she spoke to Paul was revert to her God-given voice.
• • •
Thinking he’d soon be able to redesign the world’s collection of flags, Paul came to a decision. He needed something to eat, and soon. He’d gotten over his annoyance at the biker chick, but he was still keen to catch up with Ms. Elusive. Lack of willingness to help aside, she was a very appealing package.
Hands in the pockets of his shorts, he turned away from the window. A woman in a red top was walking determinedly toward him. Well, what did you know? None other than Ms. Elusive herself.
Sassy as a teenager with attitude, she stalked up, stopped in front of him, and fisted her hands on her hips. “Would you please quit following me?”
The voice clinched it for Paul. Despite the fact that the babe’s face, figure, and mannerisms were exactly the same as his boss’s, she was not Ms. Jellicoe. No, this was Jade’s double. Fine, he could live with that … . In fact, all things considered, he was rather pleased, because it meant he could hit on her. See what developed. Ever since joining the agency ten months ago, he’d kept his attraction for his boss firmly quashed. Not only were office affairs a bad idea, as he’d learned to his own detriment in his previous job, but he didn’t want to get involved with someone who was so aloof. So if he played his charming cards right, he might get to explore this prickling fascination he felt.
• • •
Braced for an attack, Jade was surprised to see Paul’s smile.
“Did you think I was the big bad wolf?” he asked. “Was that why you decided not to stop for me?”
She licked her lips. How right he was. Many a time she’d imagined cool-dude Paul gobbling her up. She sucked in a breath and remembered to use her higher, untrained tones.
“A woman has to decide which opportunities to take and which to pass up.”
“Ouch. That certainly puts me in my place.” He pulled off his dark glasses and looked down at her with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “But now we meet in any case. There’s no such thing as coincidence, they tell me.”
She lifted her chin and looked him straight in the eye. “Woo-woo stuff. I don’t buy into all that.” Bad enough that her mother did. Swallowed every flaky notion that came her way.
Paul’s gaze held hers.
“You look hot.” His raised eyebrow indicated he meant the comment as a double entendre. “Do you know, when you took off, I had to wait all of thirty minutes in the blazing sun before I was rescued? I’d say you owe me a drink — something long and cool.”
She chewed her lip, unsure whether to acquiesce or not, and thinking something long and cool was a pretty apt description of Paul. Spending time with him could prove dangerous. On the other hand, what else was she going to do for the next hundred and eighty minutes? Better to take the gamble. Live a little.
“You sure you want to consume something guaranteed to have lots of ice?”
“Meaning after you gave me the cold shoulder when I was stranded?”
Her mouth twitched. “That’s it.”
“I’ll take my chances. Who knows, I might even be able to warm you up enough … ,” his glance flicked down to her midriff and back up again, “ … to suggest we might eat something together.”
Her heartbeat accelerated, its sound almost as loud as the Harley’s motor.
“On second thought,” Paul went on, “maybe it would be wise to head straight for the nearest Dairy Queen.”
“Why?”
“So I can ply you — ”
“They don’t sell wine.”
“ — with the milk of human kindness.”
She ignored that. “I gotta admit I’m hungry.”
“Me, too.”
Side by side, they drifted along the paved path along the historic wharf’s sidewalk.
“Smells like fish and chips,” Paul commented.
“There’s a shack just a little way ahead.”
He turned his head to look at her. “Want some?”
“You bet.”
Ooops. Now she’d gone and done it. Especially as she had the scary-thrilling feeling she might get more than she’d bargained for.