Dropping the uneaten bagel in his desk drawer, he reached out a hand to press the buttons on his phone. Next door, in the admin suite, Martha was enjoying a nice cup of fruit tea and a rare moment of peace. She was reading the latest Richard & Judy book club recommendation and finding it rather affecting. Just as she’d got to a particularly crucial moment, her desk phone buzzed. She reached out and flicked the button, her eyes not leaving the page.
Jack’s voice, a definite edge to it, cut through her quiet office. ‘Martha, would you mind popping in here?’
‘Hmm…’ Martha flicked the page. She just couldn’t wait to find out what happened next.
‘That’s right now if you can, Martha!’
She jumped. ‘Oh—sorry. Yes, er… on my way.’
Muttering under her breath, she wiped a small puddle of raspberry tea off the corner of the jacket and reluctantly put away the book in her desk drawer.
Inside his sanctum, Jack was standing by his window, arms folded, feet square. He saw the door open and Martha entered, looking as blameless as Mother Teresa.
‘Good bit was it?’ he asked.
‘As a matter of fact yes. Would you like to borrow it?’
He laughed. ‘Maybe another time. Sorry to disturb you.’
She glanced away. ‘How can I help you?’ she murmured.
‘I’d like you do some rearranging of my calendar over the next two weeks, please.’
She looked puzzled. ‘Well, that could be very tricky. You know you have a meeting with Sir Robin Brinton timetabled?’
‘I know. Reschedule it. Send my apologies and um… say I have a memorial service to attend.’
‘Would that be a family friend?’ asked Martha innocently.
‘Second cousin,’ replied Jack, straight-faced. ‘On my mother’s side. We were quite close at one time.’
‘I’ll make a note of it when I email Sir Robin’s PA. What about the quarterly finance meeting?’
‘Delegate it to Craig Turnbull. It’s time he had more responsibility. I can’t always be here to hold his hand.’
Martha nodded, a slight smile forming at her lips. ‘And the motivational exercise with the French operations team?’
‘Send them out to Café Rouge for the afternoon.’
There was a silence. ‘That was a joke, I take it?’
He couldn’t keep a straight face any longer. ‘Yes—but only just. Arrange a breakfast meeting for us all at seven am next Tuesday. That should get their juices flowing.’
‘No problem. Shall I reschedule the rest of your meetings?’
‘Yes, if you would.’
He found himself hesitating as his PA waited for further orders. He had a momentary wobble about what he’d decided to do. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure it was a good idea.
‘Jack, I don’t mind re-arranging your schedule, but is everything OK?’
‘Everything’s fine,’ he said firmly.
‘So can I do anything else for you?’
‘Yes, you can, as a matter of fact. Book me on a plane to Corsica. I’m going on the scouting trip with Beth Allen.’
As Martha left the office, he knew she would be wondering why he wanted to go to Corsica when he had an important meeting and a list of jobs as long as his arm to do. However, the more he thought about it, the more he managed to convince himself that he had no choice but to go along. Beth was a very competent manager, but on the other hand, she was relatively inexperienced, still, at supplier liaison. Olivier Lorenzelli would make the whole package seem so tempting. Maybe he’d make it seem too tempting, reasoned Jack. It was a major sector, a vital new addition to the program, there was so much at stake…
Towards evening, Martha knocked on his door again.
‘I had a bit of a job getting you on the same flight, but I’ve managed it. Your flights leave tomorrow morning,’ she explained. ‘I booked you into economy. I hope that’s OK because you did say we should be tightening our belts.’
‘It will be fine. I’m grateful for your work, Martha. You’re a miracle worker.’
Martha’s face was a picture. ‘Thanks.’
‘I’m going on this trip because it will be good for me to get back into the field and see what we’re all about. In fact,’ he added, with what he thought was a touch of genius, ‘I’m planning to get out with each of the product managers over the course of the year. This will be my only chance while Beth Allen’s here. Her contract only has a few more weeks to run.’
‘You do as you think best,’ said Martha, surprised that he was justifying himself to her. ‘And maybe that’s a good idea, not that it’s any of my business. The last MD, for what’s it’s worth, hardly set foot outside London and didn’t really understand what the staff have to contend with—that was one of the problems.’
She looked embarrassed at voicing her opinion so boldly. ‘Here’s the itinerary. You’re staying at the Mare I Monti tomorrow night—that’s a small but characterful hotel which I hope meets with your approval. After that, I presume, you’ll be making your own arrangements with the supplier.’
‘Thanks, Martha, for the arrangements and the support. And go home now.’
‘But it’s only quarter to five.’
‘I said go home. Call it working time sovereignty.’
Martha looked puzzled. ‘That’s corporate-speak for bunking off on boss’s orders,’ he said.
She smiled. ‘Ah… well, thanks. Good night.’
As she left the office he saw the pleasure on her face—and as for her small and cozy hotel, it sounded just perfect.
Chapter 18
The sun bounced down off the tarmac as Beth handed over her company credit card to the taxi driver and headed for the Heathrow departure lounge. The day had finally arrived when she was heading to Corsica. There would be memories she’d rather forget, that was true, but there were also going to be big compensations—like getting out of the office, meeting new people, and bringing to fruition a project she’d been working hard on for weeks.
What’s more, the air felt warm on her bare arms, her rucksack felt reassuringly solid on her back, and her feet were—just feet, not alien creatures bent at unusual angles and forced into pointy toes.
Inside the departure hall, the check-in queue was already snaking back from the desk. It was an eclectic mix of travelers, she noted with a professional eye. Mostly middle-class families taking the kids away before state school holidays began, silver-haired couples ‘spending the kids’ inheritance,’ and the odd backpacker. She slotted in behind a family whose twin girls, according to their mini-Samsonites, were called Tallulah and Lavender. After checking in her backpack and grabbing a frappuccino from the coffee bar, she headed back outside to phone Louisa. She punched in the number, one hand over her ear to drown out the roar of jets.
‘Hi there.’
She didn’t have even have to look up to know whose the voice was.
‘There’s been a slight change of plan,’ said Jack. He was wearing shorts, boots, and a black T-shirt. He had a rucksack on his back and a pair of dark glasses pushed back on his head. She gulped. He looked so sexy, so like the Jack she’d loved and lost that she almost forgot the years had passed. A sudden breeze rippled across the forecourt, setting goose bumps pricking her arms and she was reminded of how much time had gone by since she’d first known him.
‘This had better not be what I think it is,’ she said, heart pounding.
‘Just what do you think “this” is?’
‘That you didn’t have enough confidence in me to let me handle this trip on my own.’
He shook his head. ‘I promise I’m not checking up on you. I’m here to help.’
‘It looks a bit like you are. Checking up, I mean, not helping. I don’t mean that you’re not trying to help but…’ she stopped, aware that he was definitely not the old Jack, but her managing director. ‘I just mean that I can handle this project on my own.’
He just smiled and flipped a thumb towards the terminal b
uilding. ‘Come on.’
‘So it’s final. You are coming with me,’ she said as they headed for the check-in desks.
‘Yes, I am.’
‘Buy why, Jack?’
He shrugged off the pack. ‘I’ve thought about whether I should come with you very carefully and I promise you, we’ll discuss it—but not right now. Check-in’s closing in fifteen minutes.’
Over at the check-in desk one or two stragglers were handing over bags. ‘Then you’d better be quick.’
He dropped his pack onto the tiles and dug out his passport and tickets. ‘Wait for me in the departure lounge,’ he said.
Beth passed through security in a daze and found a seat in the crowded lounge, her mind working overtime on what to make of his appearance. Immediately she dismissed one possible motive. Even after their near kiss in the office, he couldn’t possibly want to renew their relationship. She was still, technically, with Marcus, even if things were rocky between them, and in a few weeks, she’d be back home for good. A sudden, insistent beep from her phone made her jump. Once she’d fathomed out the text, she smiled at it.
‘Message from Marcus?’ asked Jack, arriving at last.
She pressed the clear button. ‘Um… no… as a matter of fact, it’s from my sister.’
A garbled message crackled out above their heads. ‘That’s our flight, I think,’ he said. ‘Looks like I just made it.’
‘So it seems.’
He smiled benignly. ‘After you.’
In front of them Tallulah and Lavender were proudly bearing tiny shopping bags from Gap. They twisted their heads, staring at Jack. He pulled a funny face and they giggled in tandem. Their mother, a polished redhead in white cropped jeans, turned round and eyed him suspiciously. He winked at her and her lips pursed in disgust. Their mum grabbed her twins’ arms, and yanked them, protesting, towards passport control.
‘We can have a good chat on the plane,’ said Jack as they shuffled down the sky-bridge.
‘But we won’t be able to sit together. We didn’t check in at the same time.’
He smiled. ‘Hmm, could be a problem. Have to see what I can do. We definitely need to be together.’
As she found her seat by the window and buckled up, he lingered at the front talking to one of the female crew members. A few moments later, a harassed-looking woman carrying a squirming baby sat down next to them with an apologetic look. Immediately, the baby started yelling fit to burst her eardrums. Jack was still at the front of the plane talking to the crew and a tall thin man in a business suit who was wrinkling up his nose and nodding.
She grinned at the baby which yelled even louder.
‘Sorry to move you, but mind if I take the middle seat?’ said Jack, appearing in the aisle.
‘You might regret it,’ said the mother, looking pained.
‘No worries,’ he said. ‘Let me hold her while you get up.’
When he’d handed back the baby, he wriggled his way into the narrow aircraft seat, knees squashed hard against the magazine pocket. The baby howled as the cabin attendant tried to strap it into its harness.
‘How did you manage that?’ she said against his ear.
‘I had a word with the crew manager. She persuaded a guy to swap this for a quieter seat. Looks like he made the right decision.’
‘For him, maybe,’ she hissed.
‘It certainly looks like we’ll have to take a rain check on the work until we get to the hotel,’ he said as the baby began to roar louder than the engine.
Beth smiled at the mother and tried to imagine she was somewhere else because soon, she realized, she had far more to distract her than a restless baby. Her thighs were pressed very firmly against Jack’s and every time either of them moved the hairs on his arms tickled her skin and set off an annoying tingle. As the engines throbbed and the plane tore down the runway, the baby howled louder. Jack pulled the safety card from the seat pocket and wafted it at the shocked baby which stopped crying and started staring at him from huge blue eyes.
‘Thanks,’ said the mother gratefully. ‘She’s been grizzling all morning. Bit of a bug coming on possibly.’
‘Could be her teeth. She looks about the right age…’ said Jack, tickling the baby under the chin.
‘Do you always have this effect on women?’ said the mother flirtatiously, as her little girl chuckled. Beth rolled her eyes.
‘Rarely, if ever,’ he said.
***
The Mediterranean light was blinding as the plane touched down in Figari. It bounced off the dusty runways, off the white planes and the airport building. The heat hit her the moment she shuffled out of the plane and onto the concrete runway, the smell of diesel fighting with the faint tang of herbs drifting off the maquis at the edge of the airfield. In the melee of excited passengers, she found she’d outstripped Jack and by the time she’d got to the single security guard, he was several passengers behind. Once into the departure lounge, she disappeared into the Ladies. One glance in the mirror showed her pink and flushed cheeks and dry lips—and none of the effects had anything to do with the flight. Splashing a paper towel with water, she held it on her cheeks, feeling the cool moisture against her skin.
She kept telling herself that she could handle being here in Corsica with Jack again. She still had no idea how it had happened. All she knew was that history wasn’t going to repeat itself. Jack wasn’t going to rekindle any passion between them. He wasn’t going to make her fall in love with him. And he wasn’t going to leave her, inexplicably. Ten minutes later, she did her best to stroll coolly into the arrivals hall to find him standing by an advertising board, talking into his phone. He finished his conversation and thrust the phone back in his pocket.
‘Jack! Bonjour!’
A shout from the doors made them both turn their heads. A tall, lean man, with a ponytail and blond streaks in his hair was walking over, arms outstretched. He reminded Beth of Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean.
‘Olivier! How are you, mate?’
‘Tres bien, indeed… mate,’ said Olivier. Beth noticed he had a tiny diamond earstud. He really is Captain Sparrow, she thought, knowing Louisa would have been in a pool of drool. He hugged Jack enthusiastically and landed kisses on both cheeks that almost echoed around the arrivals hall. No one took a bit of notice. She stood by politely, smiling inwardly at he tried to look cool about being hugged and kissed.
‘And who’s this you have brought with you?’ asked Olivier, releasing Jack with a final whack on the back and holding out his arms to her.
‘This is Beth Allen, our new consultant. Meet Olivier Lorenzelli, friend and potential colleague,’ said Jack.
‘Only potential?’ asked Olivier, raising his eyebrows. Jack shook his head as Beth got a slightly gentler bear hug and four kisses. Olivier’s tiny goatee tickled her cheek and he smelt faintly of peppermints. ‘So. You are staying at the Mare I Monte?’
‘Yes. One of your staff recommended it to us. She said it had lots of character and it has a fabulous position up in the old town,’ said Beth.
‘Caractère?’ Olivier laughed. ‘Yes, it has plenty of that. It is on the edge of the cliff—at the moment. I hope you have a head for heights.’
‘I do. Can’t wait,’ she said as Olivier ushered them out of the airport doors into the afternoon heat.
‘Come. I also have someone for you to meet.’
Standing outside, talking on a mobile, was a woman dressed in shorts, a T-shirt, and flip flops. She waved when she caught sight of them. ‘This is Marisa Corbières, our operations manager,’ he explained.
If Olivier was the skipper of Lorenzelli Tours, Marisa was his trusty first mate. About twenty-five, she was short and olive-skinned with curly black hair. She looked very fit and Beth felt a pang of envy for her obvious outdoor lifestyle.
‘I have just been telling Jack and Beth that without you, Marisa, our company is lost,’ said Olivier, as Marisa put her phone away.
She shook her head
and smiled. ‘I wouldn’t have described it like that. We have a very good team here. Olivier flatters me.’
‘Marisa is accompanying us on the trek,’ he replied, as they crossed the airport road towards the car park.
‘Thanks for taking the time out. You must be very busy while you’re still in peak season,’ said Beth to Marisa, as the guys strode on ahead, deep in conversation.
‘I don’t need an excuse to be out of the office and up in the mountains. I’m looking forward to it.’ said Marisa. ‘More importantly, we are very happy that Big Outdoors is interested in offering our tours. When you see what we have to offer, I’m sure you’ll be pleased.’
Beth’s eyes took in the rose-colored mountains rising up in the distance. Whether Jack was here or not, she was going to enjoy herself. ‘I already know I’ll love it here,’ she murmured.
‘Ah, have you been to Corsica before?’ asked Marisa as Olivier opened the doors of a black SUV with tinted windows.
Beth’s cheeks flush as they climbed in the back seat. ‘Once—but it was a very long time ago.’
If Jack read anything into her remark, he didn’t show it and in a moment, the doors were shut and they were on their way down the dusty access road towards the shimmering coast.
Chapter 19
Beth lay in her underwear on her hotel bed, staring at the ceiling. An ancient fan stirred the air just enough for comfort. She turned her head towards the window, its shutters fastened back against the wall to stop them from clattering in the breeze blowing off the sea.
Pushing herself off the bed, she crossed to the window and peered over the tiny balcony. A hundred feet down the sea broke against the cliffs. She inhaled deeply, the fresh scent of ozone mixing with cooking smells from restaurants. Heights exhilarated her and not even the prospect of sharing the evening with Jack could dampen her spirits. She shaded her eyes, trying to make out the Sardinian coast. Then, sitting back against the bed head, she sipped a bottle of water and tried to read through her notes and itinerary again. She didn’t get far because her mind kept focusing on her conversation with Jack after they’d checked in. He’d finally said his piece about why he was here, as they as they’d sat sipping ice-cold diabolos on the hotel terrace while the staff got their rooms ready.
Wish You Were Here Page 12
