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Armed with a platter of bite-sized brownie samples, a stack of plastic cups, and a jug of melon-and-berry smoothie, I set off for the reception area. I’d tidied my hair and put on a clean apron, and now I affixed a smile. These were my future customers. I wanted to make a good impression.
A group of women lurking by the counter greeted me with beaming expressions and questions. Did I have any business cards? Was I a permanent fixture at the gym? Would I be opening an in-house café?
Tane helped me field the answers, while he grabbed samples for himself and devoured them with a look of ecstasy. If only pleasing Jasper was as simple. And where the hell did that thought creep in from? There was no sign of him at the moment, and I vowed to banish him from my mind.
That lasted all of two minutes, until he walked in, Cindy at his side. Damn. They looked good together.
There was another flurry of activity, as the women clustered around Cindy and asked for autographs. She held a mini-conference for her audience, thanked them for their support, and told them she was in training for her next role as an Olympic athlete. When tasked with adding muscles, she turned, of course, to Jasper.
He smiled and nodded, and jealousy soured my gut. I didn’t want to watch them together. It might make me petty and small-minded, but I didn’t care. I slunk back to the kitchen and focused on another variant of the brownie.
Tane kept calling in with feedback from the gym clients. They loved the snacks and wanted more. They’d pay. Would I have some available tomorrow? That was easy enough.
I spent the rest of the morning baking. It was what I did best, and I could lose myself in the task. The rituals of measuring and mixing were so familiar, I could do them in my sleep, and they soothed my fractured thoughts.
I’d just about regained my composure when Jasper came to find me. He held out a takeaway bag from the local baker. “I got you a sandwich. I know you didn’t have a lunch break.”
Why did he have to be so nice? If he was a permanent asshat, he’d be much easier to dislike.
“Chicken and salad on wholegrain,” he said. “I hope that’s okay.”
I hadn’t realized I was hungry until he opened the bag and plated the food. “Yes, it’s fine. Thank you. Let me pay you,” I said.
“Nah, it’s all good.” He leaned back against the counter, the stick at his side. “I wanted to ask you something.”
I looked longingly at the sandwich, and then dragged my gaze up to Jasper’s face. Blue shadows under his eyes gave him a bruised appearance. He waited for my answer.
“Sure,” I said. “Go for it.”
“You mentioned your father leads groups of trampers, right?”
I recalled the conversation, even if I couldn’t remember when we had it. “Yes.”
“A guy Cindy knows’ is visiting. He’s some bigass Hollywood movie director, and he wants to go into the bush and see the real New Zealand. She wants to make him happy, so she kinda promised him she’d set up an organized trip, and now she’s panicking.”
“I could ask my dad, but he doesn’t like taking newbies out. He’s a serious tramper, not a tour guide.”
“Apparently, he knows what he’s doing. Her words, not mine.” Jasper scratched his chin. “Would you ask your father, please? I’ll owe you.”
I owed Jasper more than I could ever repay. “I’ll ask. And you don’t owe me a thing, after all this.” I gestured at the kitchen. “Any idea when he wants to go?”
“As soon as possible.” His lips tilted up at the corners. “Thank you.” I didn’t get the same radiant smile as Cindy did, but hey—who was counting?
Dad was surprisingly enthusiastic when I talked to him on the phone. “I’m taking out a mid-level group on Wednesday, for an overnight tramp. Let me know if he’s interested.”
“I thought you went out at the weekend?”
“This is a bunch of my friends.” He chuckled. “Just because they’ve retired from work, doesn’t mean they’re unfit. They could run rings around you.”
“Thanks.” He was joking, but it still dug at me.
“Besides, there’s a weather front coming this weekend, so we’re going before it hits. See if your guy is free and let me know. We’re staying in a hut, not under canvas, so we’ll be fine even if the rain comes early.”
I scribbled some notes, promised to call him back, and then went in search of Jasper.
As expected, he was with Cindy, and they were engrossed in setting up a complicated series of weights and pulleys on a piece of equipment. It looked to me like something out of a medieval torture chamber, but she seemed delighted when he strapped her in.
I cleared my throat. I had better things to do than watch them together. “You were asking about an organized hike? My dad’s taking a group into Otaki Forks on Wednesday, for an overnight tramp.”
Cindy pursed her lips. “Otaki Forks is a bit tame. I think he’d prefer something more demanding.”
“Actually, the Forks is one of the best access routes into the Tararua Mountains,” I replied. I might not be into bush walks, but I knew more than most about it. “It’s perfect for an overnight trip. Great views and established tracks. It’s safe and accessible.”
“I suppose.” She glanced at Jasper. “I hoped Jassy would be able to take us, but he said no.”
She wanted Jasper to go tramping? Did she forget his broken leg? Something occurred to me. “Are you going too?” I asked her.
“Yes, of course. It’s my big chance to impress Roddy. Who else will be in the group? Your father, obviously, but some young people too, I hope?”
“Oh yes,” I lied. “Tourists, I think.”
Her face lit up, and I hid my smile. It would serve her right, to be the only person there under the age of fifty. I handed over Dad’s contact details and left with a spring in my step.