by Traci Hall
Rajah gave his goatee another pull. “And just how certain are you that your bartender wants to leave?”
“Very.” Jolie looked at Heath. “Right?”
Heath burned. Had Rajah overheard him on the phone earlier? He never should have had it on speaker.
“Heath?” she asked.
“Answer her,” Rajah insisted. “Explain how you want to take Benedict’s job. Or if that won’t work, you’re after mine.”
Jolie sucked in a breath and whirled toward Heath.
Heath gritted his teeth and held onto the broom.
“Is this true?”
“No.” He wanted Jolie to offer him a position of his own. Heath would have been willing to do dishes and scrub the floors just to be with her.
Better to do any job that kept him with Jolie than move so far away.
He hadn’t wanted Benedict’s job, or Rajah’s, the rat bastard.
“Heath, do you want to stay and work on board the Masquerade?” Jolie narrowed her pretty eyes at him, searching for the truth.
“Nope.” He leaned the broom against the bar and crossed his arms over his chest. “Fact is, I leave on Sunday. I talked to the Virtual Ski place and I need to be back by Monday for training.”
Chapter Eighteen
Jolie felt as if someone had just kicked her in the chest with a Doc Martin.
“You’re leaving in,” she did the math by counting on her fingers. “Five days? But I thought you were staying until Benedict got here!” Oh, God, it was as if her heart was breaking into agonizing shards and she could barely draw a breath. Her chest hurt, her back hurt, her everything hurt.
“Yeah. I was going to talk to you about it in private,” he sent Rajah a glare, “but since the cat is out of the bag...”
“You liar,” Rajah said, his eyes narrowed. “I heard you. On the phone. You told, what was his name...Robbie? That you’d call back by Friday.”
Jolie held onto the bar, her legs trembling. What did Heath want, really?
He was leaving?
She didn’t know what to absorb first.
“So?” Heath asked belligerently.
Angry Heath.
They’d come so far since the man in pain on the upper deck of her boat.
So. Jolie turned toward Rajah, who shook with anger. Her First Mate was pretty mild-tempered, and usually up for a joke. She’d never seen this side of him, coming to her defense.
Her knee-jerk reaction was to tell Rajah to shut up, to protect Heath, but Heath wasn’t giving her much to go on. So?
“Heath.” She cleared her throat and tried again. “Heath? I wish you would’ve talked to me before accepting this other position,” she heard her words trail off.
“This was the ‘other’ position.” He spoke in clipped tones. “I’m going back to my regular life. I’m sure Rajah can help you at the bar until Benedict gets back. It’s not like the work is hard. Any ski bum can do it.”
Rajah’s upper lip curled into his trimmed black mustache.
“We don’t need you,” her First Mate told Heath.
“Yes, we do,” Jolie jumped in before Heath decided to leave her high and dry for the big event with Randall. Emotions aside, she’d been working all summer toward this and it had to be perfect. “We do. I do.”
Jolie paced the small dance floor, going between Rajah and Heath. “Rajah, go home, hon. Cool off. Your job is not up for grabs. Okay? But Heath, you know I want to expand and I trust you. You’re a hard worker. I’d find a place for you if you want to stay.”
Rajah threw his hands upward and laid on the sarcasm. “Really, Captain?”
Her anger was slow to ignite, but once lit, it flared. “Rajah, don’t cross the line.” She raised her brow, fury keeping her spine straight. “Don’t.”
Her First Mate clenched his jaw tight, shook out his fisted hands and turned on his heel. “Night.”
He left so quickly Jolie was surprised he hadn’t created a vacuum trail in his wake.
She waited a few seconds to calm down before turning toward Heath. He looked at her with concern in his amber eyes, the golden shade of dark honey she loved.
“Why didn’t you talk to me?” she asked, for some reason unable to just reach out and touch him. Something was broken between them and she didn’t know how to fix it. If it was even worth fixing.
“I was going to. I’d even thought about talking to Rajah, to see how he’d feel about championing my position of head dishwasher. Turns out he doesn’t like me so much.” He lowered his arms and stuck his hands in his slacks’ pockets. “What’s not to like, right?”
He didn’t break a smile.
God, she loved him. He was leaving. “Change your mind,” she said, hating the pleading sound of her voice. If a man didn’t want to be with her, then she refused to beg. Jolie clasped her hands together, holding them at her waist.
“Can’t.”
Great. “I need a bartender. You agreed. For the next three weeks.”
“Call a temp agency.” He pulled his hands from his pockets and scowled. “Hell, Jamison would probably fill in if you asked real nice.”
“You have no reason to be jealous.”
“I’m not.” He looked away at the obvious lie.
Jolie’s belly churned but she swallowed the sick feeling. “Fine. You already bought your ticket?”
“Yep.”
She clenched her hands tighter together. “Maybe this is for the best.” Jolie couldn’t see how it would be, but damn her Pollyanna side for looking anyway. “I guess I just wasn’t ready for us to be over.”
Heath’s eyes glittered in the dim light of the dance area. “Yeah.”
Well, he obviously was reverting back to his monosyllable ways and she was too emotionally wiped to pull freaking teeth. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Heath grabbed the broom and studied the floor.
“That we ended like this.”
“Endings suck.” He swept the same spot a few times. “I’ll move back to my old, Benedict’s, room.”
Jolie’s tears burned and she turned away before she fell down in a heap. She didn’t have the strength to say goodnight. How on earth was she going to say good-bye?
Heath squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his thumb and finger to the closed lids. Hot, scalding tears slipped free. Tears he was ashamed to shed because he knew he’d just hurt Jolie, given her a blow to the soul—he’d watched her face go ashen. Ghost-gray beneath her gorgeous skin.
It didn’t matter. He was dying too.
He could blame Rajah, but the truth was more complicated than that. Heath should have stuck to the plan. Three months, and back home with a broader understanding of the world.
An expected hurt, one they’d planned for, not this. He shoved the heels of his palms against his eyes and forced the tears to stop. It wasn’t that he was stuck in some stupid machismo men-don’t-cry bullshit, it was just that he was damn helpless. He’d just broken Jolie’s mended heart, and couldn’t fix his own.
“Grr. Shit, damn, hell.” He exhaled with force, tossed the broom to the side of the bar, and went around the counter for a beer. He cracked open a cold one and then put the bottle against his cheeks to cool his temper down.
His phone rang and he was tempted to ignore it, but it was Cody. Heath answered. “Hey. What’s up?”
“I’ve called you twice today.”
“I have a job. Working at night.” For now, anyway.
“Cool job, too. Listen, I got a call from the Virtual Ski Clinic. They were checking your character references. Who does that?” Cody laughed. “I mean, I’m your brother, right? It could go either way.”
“I hope you gave me a glowing recommendation.” Heath drank deeply and leaned back on a stool. He liked sitting in the dark. Speculating.
“Course. Guy, Robbie something or other, sounds like a douche bag. If you don’t mind my saying so.”
“Agreed.”
“So, why did you take this job again? L
ittle prick said something about a commission package.”
Heath took another drink. “Yeah.” He drained the bottle. Trust Cody to get to the heart of the matter. “Did he mention the salary is more than I made as a ski instructor? On real snow?”
“Oh. Well, I didn’t like him.” Cody coughed into the phone. “I mean, if you want to go back to the mountain, I understand. But Robbie and company? Maybe not. And you’re nowhere near the slopes! You’ll be working in a strip mall.”
“I know.” He winced and slammed the empty bottle on the bar.
“I checked out the website.”
He hadn’t even gone that far. Heath sighed.
Cody seemed to realize that something was wrong and stopped riding his ass about the great job.
“You okay, Heath? How’s your leg?”
“Fine. I’m fine.”
“Bullshit.”
He hiked his ass up onto the stool and leaned his elbow on the bar. “Leg’s fine.”
“Hmm. How’s Jolie?”
“Fine.”
“You two fighting?”
“I broke her heart.”
“Dude.”
“Right?” Heath bit the inside of his cheek.
Cody was quiet a while. “A major screw up, or something you can come back from?”
“What’s the point? She doesn’t need me here. I’m going back to Salt Lake City.”
“Good money. Even if it’s a sales job.”
“It’s not about the money.” He’d found himself. He’d created a new identity for Heath Hamilton, ex-professional skier.
“Don’t tell me you love the ocean.”
“It’s not love. I maintain a healthy respect. But Cody, I faced that fear.”
“So why can’t you tell Jolie you love her?”
“She knows.”
“What’s the problem?”
“We had a deal. Three months, until her real bartender comes back.” She’d said she would find a place for him but was that pity talking? And was that the right thing to do? “Then we move on.”
“I think you should tell her how you feel,” Cody said softly. “Women like that shit.”
“What shit?” Kendra asked in the background.
Heath knocked his head lightly against the bar top. Kendra would have something to say for sure. He heard his brother give the short version of what was going on and then Kendra shouted, “Tell her, Heath. Did I ever tell you about the time I broke up with your brother?”
“No.” Heath would have remembered that one.
“He wouldn’t open up. I don’t have time in my life to force someone else to acknowledge their feelings. I told him that if he wanted to date me, he’d have to try a little harder.”
Heath wrenched a hand through his hair. “It worked.”
“It took him a week to think about it. Don’t waste any time, Heath. If you love Jolie and want to stay, tell her. Love changes the rules of whatever game you two were playing.”
Kendra sounded so sure.
“But she might not want me here.”
“How are you going to know unless you talk to her?” Kendra gave an exasperated sigh. “And to think men are supposed to have evolved.”
“I’ve evolved,” Cody said, taking the phone back. “Sorry about that, Heath. Kendra cares, that’s all.”
“Love you!” She shouted in the background.
“Love you both, too,” Heath said, his temples pounding. “Gotta go.”
“I think you should tell Robbie to kiss your ass.”
“Cody, I can’t do that. Especially after you gave me such a good recommendation.”
“This is your life we’re talking about.”
“I know.”
“Make good choices, Heath.”
“Piss off, Cody.” Heath rolled his eyes and hung up the phone, more confused than ever.
Chapter Nineteen
“I can do a curried stone crab,” Rajah said, tying an apron over his white First Mate uniform. “Like we talked about. Or I have a killer recipe for a caper and vermouth sauce.”
“Randall doesn’t like capers.” Jolie had his list of likes and dislikes memorized. Probably forever. “Let’s stick with the menu, but I appreciate your ingenuity.”
“I wanted a back-up plan. I know how important tonight is for you.”
“Thanks, Rajah. You know how much I count on you.” She didn’t have a large group of employees, so Rajah and Benedict were more like friends she paid to do stuff. And Heath? He’d been a few stolen moments in time.
The last few days aboard the Masquerade had been far from pleasant. Heath stayed in his room unless he was working. She saw his printed airplane ticket on the kitchen counter. Sunday morning. 8:00 am.
It slayed her. Kept her up at night. She missed his scent, part salt, part pine, all Heath. She hadn’t washed her sheets, just so she could get some sleep. Knowing he was across the hall from her was torture.
Rajah quit making snide remarks about Heath as soon as he saw that they weren’t received well and focused on his job instead. He’d posted a number of a bartender friend on the refrigerator. They didn’t talk about it.
Heath had to have seen it, but he left it up.
Rajah tore off a paper towel and dried his hands. “We will make Randall a feast. Let’s get an engine!”
She heard the sound of Heath walking down the hall toward them and her heart jerked to attention. Jolie didn’t stop her gaze going that way, wanting to memorize everything about him. Less than twenty-four hours and he’d be gone.
“Hey,” she said. He looked tired, too, with circles under his eyes. Handsome, still, in his black suit pants he’d worn the first night they’d met. Only two months ago? A black silky shirt with long sleeves and no tie completed his simple look.
“Hi.” He nodded and sniffed the air. “Smells like cardamom. Chili powder?”
“Jamison got some great stone crab.” Jolie was stupidly nervous around Heath. What would he think if she attached herself to his leg and didn’t let him go?
“He’s a good friend to you.” He looked at the stove where Rajah was loudly situating pans and ignoring Heath.
“Yes.” Jamison had come to her aid more than once and had saved her ass again tonight. He’d warned her when she pressed about where he’d gotten the stone crabs not to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Are you ready?”
Heath met her gaze head-on. “Are you sure you want me doing this?”
And who else was there? “We’ve practiced backward and forward. Follow the directions loaded into the GPS and you will be perfectly okay.” She had no problem trusting Heath—fact was he’d be super careful just because he was nervous.
Rajah stiffened and opened a seasoning packet. “You can’t screw it up,” he said. “I wouldn’t give up my chair if I didn’t think you can handle it.”
Jolie nodded at Rajah in thanks. Despite his personal feelings he’d really stepped up to the plate, making sure that Heath was comfortable reading the navigational chart.
“Yeah.” Heath pulled at his shirt sleeves. “Once you’re done cooking, you’ll take back over and I’ll return to my temporary bar job. The sooner the better, Rajah.”
“I don’t know,” Rajah said, brandishing a chef’s knife. “I kinda like seeing you sweat.”
“All right, already,” Jolie broke in before things got ugly. “I hired four servers for dinner. The salad is made and just needs to be dressed. The red wine is open and breathing, the white wine is chilled. I’ve got it set so the servers just have to offer and pour. We can open the bar to mixed drinks after the meal. When you’re back, Heath.”
Jolie had gone over every last detail. Randall wanted elegant? She’d covered the paneling in the dining room with ivory velvet. Real lace tablecloths on the four round tables. Purple orchids with delicate ferns adorned the centers. Linen napkins, crystal stemware, porcelain dishes.
The inside of her party charter looked like an 18th century French palace. So l
ong as Randall Wallace didn’t demand her head at the end of the night, she’d call it a win.
She wore ivory as well; flared linen dress pants and a silk top with ruffles along the hem. The only color came from her chunky coral bracelet and necklace.
The starfish clock above the chaise told her she had ten minutes until show time. She jumped as Jamison called down to the galley. “Hellooo?”
“We’re here,” she answered back, walking to the stairs and looking up to the next floor. “Hi, Jamison.”
She didn’t, couldn’t, look at Heath. Here she was on the verge of making her dreams come true. The wrench in the works was finally finding love and having it once again escape her grasp. Love wasn’t tangible. She’d take a new engine over a broken heart, any day. Jolie kept repeating the mantra over and over in her head. New engine. New engine. New engine.
Jamison skipped down the stairs, his freckles bright across his summer tan face. “I just saw Randall pull up. You need anything?”
“You’ve already done so much,” Jolie said, her heart full of gratitude. “Rajah is getting ready to put it all together. The stone crab will be done last.”
“Who’s driving, if Rajah’s cooking? You know Randall will want you to be visible.”
“I am,” Heath said, standing next to her. She missed his strength at her side.
Jamison nodded, taking in Heath’s black dress pants and black shirt. “Cool. Where are you guys boating to? The sandbar?”
“I wanted to take them to Pelican Bay. For the sunset? It’s beautiful and secluded. We want to give the best atmosphere.”
“Great idea.” Jamison looked to Heath. “Be careful around the inlet—it looks deeper than it is. You know where the patch of protected sea grass is?” He stared hard at Heath. “It’s a big fine if you destroy any part of the ocean floor.”
Heath paled and Jolie gave Jamison her sternest look. “I’ll be there with him. He’ll be okay.”
“I hope so, for your sake. How will that go over on the council if one of our members screws up?”
“Jamison!” Jolie crossed her arms, the bells sleeves of her blouse swishing like angel wings.
