A local man was selling fresh mango. He ambled along the beach with his basket of fruit and a giant knife. She’d been slightly alarmed when she’d seen him yesterday, until she’d witnessed his dextrous culinary skills in peeling and slicing the mango. It was quite an art and the fruit had tasted heavenly.
She headed for the sailing centre, a makeshift wicker hut containing various water devices. Further out to sea, she could see the Geotubes protruding from the water, an effort to redress the effects of climate change. The large bags of biosynthetic tissue helped to calm the waves and prevent the fine sand being dragged out to sea. They looked like beached whales at first glance, but they were perfectly safe, and served an important purpose.
A man appeared from the hut. ‘Hello, Miss. You want to join us for sailing?’
She lifted her sunglasses. ‘I’m booked for kayaking. Lily Monroe.’
‘Ah, yes. Miss Monroe. Like Marilyn, yes? Only prettier.’
Charmer. He was a fibber, too. Still, it was all part of the service. The staff were enthusiastic, complimentary, and unfailingly friendly towards all the guests. It might be an act, but it felt nice, and it helped her to feel more included.
The downside was, it was hard to refuse them when they ‘encouraged’ the guests to partake in the hotel’s activities. As she’d discovered this morning when she’d agreed to take part in a competition entitled ‘Wipeout’. Why she’d succumbed, she had no idea. She wasn’t sporty, or competitive, or even vaguely coordinated. Consequently, she hadn’t made it past the first obstacle before she’d landed headfirst in the water and had ended up covered in bruises.
The sailing instructor beckoned her towards the hut. ‘Have you been kayaking before?’ His laid-back gaze travelled over her non-sporty purple fashion shorts and lilac vest top.
‘Never.’
‘Are you a strong swimmer?’
‘Not really.’ She frowned. ‘Is that a problem?’
‘Nothing in life is a problem, Miss.’ He grinned and handed her a lifejacket. ‘But the currents are strong. You need good muscles.’ He flexed his impressive biceps. ‘Like me, yes?’ He winked at her and laughed.
‘Indeed.’ She glanced down at her skinny white arms.
Impressive muscles, she didn’t have. She had what her grandma had described as a ‘delicate frame’. Which was the polite way of saying she was ‘weedy’.
‘We pair up novices with a more experienced sailor,’ the instructor said, pointing to a bright yellow boat. ‘We have two-seater kayaks, see?’
‘Okay.’ It was probably safer that way. ‘Will I be sailing with you?’
‘This man here. Come, I introduce you.’ He led her over to the boat. ‘Hey, man.’ He nudged the guy, who turned around.
Oh, good God. It was Will.
The instructor grinned. ‘Pretty, yes? I choose well.’
Will did a double take when he saw who he’d been lumbered with.
She knew how he felt.
She gave him a feeble wave. Hardly the most sophisticated of greetings, but it was all she could muster.
He was wearing navy swim-shorts and a White Stripes T-shirt. His baseball cap and sunglasses covered most of his face, but she knew it was him. There was no mistaking those shapely arms. Or legs. Or the dimple in his chin.
She mentally slapped herself. Objectifying a man based on appearances wasn’t cool.
But tempting as it was to turn and run off, she knew it was pointless. Running on sand in flip-flops was only marginally less humiliating than kissing him, and would only result in her landing face-down in the sand.
‘We get you in the water, yes?’ The instructor lifted the front of the boat.
Will lifted the rear and they carried it down to the sea.
Resigned to her fate, Lily followed them.
So much for a nice relaxing afternoon on the water. The next two hours were going to be excruciating.
Having lowered the boat into the water, the instructor went to help another customer.
Avoiding eye contact, she went to step into the boat, when Will appeared in front of her. ‘Your lifejacket is the wrong way around.’
Of course it was. She couldn’t even get that right.
‘The straps fasten at the front,’ he said, swapping it over for her. ‘May I?’
‘Be my guest.’
His arms brushed against hers as he slid the straps around her waist and secured them at the front. Her body betrayed her by breaking out in goosebumps.
‘I haven’t seen you at the pool for a couple of days,’ he said, not making eye contact.
‘Err… no, I went to the beach yesterday,’ she said, feeling guilty, even though she had no reason to feel that way. She didn’t owe him an explanation. It was up to her what she did on her holiday. ‘I wasn’t avoiding you, or anything,’ she added, and then silently cursed. Why had she said that? Of course she’d been avoiding him.
He smiled. ‘It never occurred to me that you were.’
‘It didn’t?’ She felt her cheeks flush.
His eyes lifted to hers. ‘Is there a reason you’d feel the need to avoid me?’
Was he serious? ‘No… I mean, yes. It’s just… I had rather too much to drink on Monday night.’
‘Did you?’ He returned to straightening her lifejacket. ‘I didn’t notice.’
‘You didn’t?’ Who was he trying to kid?
She waited for him to remind her of her inexcusable behaviour, but his expression didn’t change. ‘I had a bit too much myself. I don’t remember much. I hope I didn’t do anything I shouldn’t have?’
She realised he was letting her off the hook. He could have easily teased her, or relayed the full horror of her humiliating proposition, but instead he was pretending he didn’t remember. ‘You were the perfect gentleman,’ she assured him.
‘Good. I’d hate to think there was any awkwardness between us.’ He gestured to the boat. ‘Shall we?’
‘Okay.’ She accepted the offer of his hand and stepped into the boat. ‘I’m guessing you’ve done this before?’
‘A few times. Not recently.’ He handed her an oar.
‘I hope I don’t slow you down.’
‘You won’t.’ He pushed the boat out until he was waist-height in the water. ‘These boats aren’t designed to go fast. It’s all about relaxing and enjoying the experience.’
‘Sounds nice.’ The kayak rocked when he climbed in and she grabbed the side, fearful of being tipped out.
He glanced back. ‘You okay?’
‘All good.’ Lily forced a smile. ‘What do I do now?’
‘Paddle to the right. I’ll paddle to the left. Shall we head over to the shipwreck?’ He pointed directly ahead. ‘Astron Wreck. It’s a famous local landmark.’
She nodded. ‘Lead the way.’
He began paddling.
The water was clear and blue and calm. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, which meant there was nothing to soften the glare of the sun. Her skin felt hot and tingled from the intensity of the heat. She was glad of her hat and the fifty-factor sunscreen.
The sea became choppier once they’d sailed past the Geotubes, the boat fighting the waves. Lily tried to follow Will’s rhythm, but she battled to stay balanced.
Rowing clearly required core stability, another attribute she didn’t possess. But true to his word, Will kept a slow steady pace, and for the most part she was able to match his stroke.
‘Did you enjoy Wipeout this morning?’
Oh, God, he’d seen that? She inwardly cringed.
He winked at her over his shoulder. ‘Looked like fun.’
‘I assure you, it wasn’t.’ The memory came back, fresh and raw of being bounced from an inflatable tube into the air and belly-flopping into the water. ‘I nearly drowned.’
He laughed. ‘Why did you take part?’
Good question. ‘I’m forcing myself to try new things.’
‘And why’s that?’ He sounded curious.
; How much to reveal, she wondered? ‘I feel the need to be more… adventurous.’
‘Nothing wrong with that. Good for you.’
They’d reached open water. The sea had darkened in colour, morphing from a pale blue into a deep turquoise. It was beautiful.
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ she said, watching the way the sunlight sparkled on the water.
‘And what’s that?’ There was a hint of amusement in his voice.
‘That I’m not the adventurous type. And you’re right. I’m not a natural risk-taker. I’m not even sure myself why I agreed to take part.’
Maybe it was simply a need to try and make up for lost time. An effort to cram into a two-week holiday a lifetime of experiences. If so, she was likely to do herself an injury. She was not cut out for physical exertion.
‘Maybe I was hoping I’d discover a hidden talent,’ she said, dragging her oar through the water. ‘And that beneath my very un-sporty exterior, there would be a warrior goddess waiting to be unleashed.’
He laughed. ‘But there isn’t?’
‘God, no. I fell off the first obstacle. Which might not have been so bad if a woman twice my age hadn’t gone after me and completed the course.’
Smiling, he said, ‘At least you took part. I chickened out.’
‘Very sensibly.’
The shipwreck came into view. From a distance it looked like a rusty lump of metal. It was sunken into the water, one end protruding.
‘So if you’re not sporty, what do you like doing instead?’
She focused on the ripples of water caused by the kayak cutting through the water. ‘Sewing, mainly. I love anything to do with fashion. I make a lot of my own clothes.’
‘Impressive. Where did you learn to sew?’
They neared the shipwreck. She could see its mast poking up, weathered and beaten. ‘My grandma taught me. We used to watch period dramas on the telly and try to recreate the costumes. We’d draw sketches and then make patterns using old bedsheets. She’d then take me to the weekly jumble sale at the church hall and we’d buy old bits of material to reuse.’
He stopped rowing, allowing the kayak to float closer to the sunken vessel. ‘Sounds like fun.’
‘It was.’
The waves were choppier by the shipwreck and she had to hold on to the side of the kayak. She could see barnacles attached to the rusty orange metal and faint writing on the side of the shipwrecked boat.
Will shifted to half face her. ‘You say, used to? Isn’t your grandma around any more?’
She shook her head. ‘She died a while back.’
‘Sorry to hear that.’
The boat rocked as a splash of wave caught them off guard.
‘Seen enough?’ He must have noticed her concerned expression.
‘Yes, thank you.’
He pointed behind her. ‘We could head over to those rocks and then work our way back to the beach.’
‘Good plan.’ Relieved, she began frantically paddling. She preferred it when the sea was calmer.
He moved the kayak away from the shipwreck. In no time they were safely away from the choppy currents, and she was able to relax a little.
Will slowed his stroke rate and they returned to moving at a leisurely pace through the water. The occasional splash was a welcome relief against the heat of the sun. Her skin appreciated being cooled off.
It was quiet and serene out on the water and Lily felt the tension leave her body, expelled by the tropical surroundings and exertion of rowing.
A few moments later, Will said, ‘So you’re creative then?’
‘As opposed to academic, you mean?’
He laughed. ‘I didn’t mean it like that.’
‘Well, you’re right. I was always better at the arty subjects at school. Never ask me to work out a maths sum without a calculator. I’m rubbish.’
‘Me too.’ He glanced back. ‘Hence why my sister became my accountant. She’s a maths wizard.’
‘Your accountant? Are you self-employed?’
He nodded. ‘I run an events management company.’
She stopped rowing. ‘Wow, that sounds very grand.’ She felt a little intimidated. After all, she worked in a factory. ‘What kind of events do you manage?’
‘All sorts.’ He continued rowing, the muscles on his shoulders working overtime. Not that she was looking, or anything. ‘Product launches, conferences, festivals, parties. Even a few award ceremonies.’
Goodness. She was in a kayak with a real-life entrepreneur. ‘Sounds like hard work?’
‘It can be. But it’s fun, too, and you get to meet some really interesting people.’ He nodded to the rocks. ‘Shall we stop here for a while? I don’t know about you, but my arms are tired.’
She doubted they were. He was stopping for her benefit. He could probably hear her panting. She unzipped her bum bag and removed a small drinks bottle. ‘Water?’
He took the bottle. ‘You came prepared.’
She considered telling him she also had plasters, antiseptic cream and paracetamol, but figured this would make her sound like a bit of a loser. At the very least, it would make her look uptight, and not the chilled confident woman she was aiming for.
‘How did you get into events management?’ she asked, retrieving the bottle from him.
He shifted position so he was facing her and dangled his feet in the water. ‘I did a business degree, then worked briefly in travel and tourism, before moving into hospitality.’ He circled his feet in the water, turning his face up to the sun. ‘Both industries gave me a good grounding for events management and taught me two valuable lessons. Firstly, I knew I couldn’t face doing the same job every day, I’d get too bored. And secondly, I didn’t have the right attributes for reporting to someone else.’ He gave her a rueful smile. ‘I’m not good at taking orders.’
She squinted at him. ‘So you started your own company?’
He nodded. ‘TaylorMade Events. Blending magic with logic,’ he said, using his hands to sign-write. ‘Corny, huh?’ He laughed. ‘Oh, well, too late to change it now.’
She watched him tilt his head further back and close his eyes. He was starting to tan. His light-brown wavy hair had flecks of blond around the temple. The faint hairs on his arms and legs had lightened in the sun. He looked healthy, and relaxed, and tantalisingly good.
She shook her head. She seriously needed to cool off.
She took a sip of water – except, she missed her mouth and spilt the contents down her front. Served her right for gawping. ‘Do you employ loads of people?’ she asked, hastily brushing away the spilt water.
His eyes still closed, he shook his head. ‘Only four permanent staff. Me, my sister, and two designers.’ He opened his eyes. ‘Everyone else is hired project by project, depending on what we need.’
When he smiled at her, she felt slightly flustered. The kayak wasn’t big, and there wasn’t anyone else around. It was very intense, in a stranded Blue Lagoon kind of way.
She fanned her face, suddenly overheating. ‘You’re obviously very passionate about what you do. It sounds like you’re successful, too.’
‘I guess we’ve been lucky.’ He looked out to sea. ‘We’ve been through some tough times, too.’ For a moment, he seemed lost in his thoughts. She watched his face cloud over. Then he snapped himself out of it.
‘It must be nice to be your own boss, though?’ She trailed her fingers through the cool water.
‘Most of the time. But it has its issues.’ He opened his arms. ‘Like trying to take a holiday, for example. No work, no income.’
‘Ah, yes. Tricky.’
‘What do you do?’ He focused his gaze on her, his eyes appearing more blue than grey today. ‘I’m guessing something to do with fashion?’
She blinked in surprise. ‘Why do you say that?’
‘That red dress you had on the other night was quite something.’ An undecipherable look flickered across his face. He shook it away. ‘It looked designer.�
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It did? Goodness. ‘Well, it wasn’t. I… err… I made it myself.’
‘Really?’ He looked fascinated. ‘So you are a designer then?’
She opened her mouth, fully intending to correct him and say that— No, she wasn’t a designer, she wanted to be, but she currently worked in a clothing factory. But what came out was, ‘Yes, I’m a designer.’ Now, why had she said that?
The smile he gave her made her insides flutter. ‘Do you work for a fashion house? Or your own label? Bloody hell. I’m not sharing a boat with a famous name, am I?’
Her cheeks flushed. ‘I assure you, I’m not famous.’ Far from it.
Guilt nudged her in the ribs. Oh, God, where was she going with this? Talk about digging herself into a hole. But it would be mortifying to admit that she was a nobody. He was such a high-flyer himself that she couldn’t bring herself to admit to earning minimum wage and spending her days cutting patterns.
And besides, wasn’t the idea of this holiday to reinvent herself? She fully intended to kick-start her career when she got home, so she wouldn’t be lying… much. She was just embellishing a little. Imagining what her life might be like, rather than dwelling on what it was currently like. And it wasn’t like she was ever going to see him again, was it?
‘I design for the stage mostly,’ she said, hoping that having made costumes for her school play twenty years ago, that this counted as ‘stage design’. ‘With some TV work, too,’ she added, figuring that as the nativity play had been videoed and had since been added to YouTube it also counted. Talk about stretching the truth.
‘What TV shows have you worked on?’ He sounded interested.
Oh, hell. ‘Err… not many. Nothing you’d have heard of. Very little, in fact… And mostly abroad.’ The hole she was digging was getting deeper. It was time to switch topics. ‘Wow, look at the fish.’
He followed to where she was pointing.
Never had she been so glad to see a school of fish.
Thankfully, it proved to be a good distraction.
Their colours were vivid, and they looked almost luminous as they darted about, changing direction and diving deeper. But the fish would only divert Will for so long. She needed an escape. ‘Maybe we should get moving? In case the tide turns, or something?’
Someone Like You: Escape with this perfect uplifting romance Page 7
