“I’ll go and check there. Thanks, and good for you. Well done.” With a nod to him, Jonathon went to the kitchen office, only to see it empty. He stopped, disgruntled, and ran his fingers through his hair. He didn’t have time to chase after her, there was a lot of work waiting for him before the BBC arrived tomorrow.
Perhaps someone in the staff canteen may know where she was. Yeah, with Rob. He pushed the thought out of his mind, but it left an image of the two of them together in its wake. He shook his head in annoyance as he strode down the corridor to the staff canteen.
He heard Fiona’s voice before he rounded the corner and she nearly bumped into him.
“Hi Fiona, I’m looking for Pippa, do you know where she is?” he wasted no time on pleasantries, just wanting to find Pippa.
“Nope, ’fraid not. I’ve just come from our room and she wasn’t there either.”
“Did she have any plans to go ashore, do you know?”
“I doubt it. She’s pretty excited about the dinner tomorrow night, and I know she had lots to get sorted beforehand.”
Jonathon felt a pang of shame. All right, so it wasn’t his fault that tomorrow night was being taken from Pippa, but he wasn’t looking forward to seeing her face fall when he told her.
“I need to see her, urgently. If you see her, will you tell her I’m in the Doubtful and to please come and see me?”
“Sure thing, Mr E.” Fiona smiled at him and stepped over the threshold of the canteen door.
With the door swinging shut behind her, he put a hand to his forehead. Where else could she be? The engine noise of the ship started idling, and Jonathon knew it was preparing to stop. Perhaps she was on deck, watching the fiords. Of course!
Honestly, sometimes he felt so dim. He should have gone straight up on deck.
Taking the steps two at a time, he arrived up on deck just in time to see the sun slide behind the mountains and darkness come in to tuck the ship up for the night. The last remaining pink and orange clouds took on a purple hue, giving away to charcoal grey, and dispersed to present the stars. He didn’t move, didn’t even breathe, glad of the unexpected peace and quiet.
He took a couple of deep breaths and checked the deck for her. There were plenty of customers enjoying the view but no flame-haired girl to be seen. Perhaps it was just as well, the romantic setting and sun going down had put him in a sentimental mood, not good considering the information he had to impart. Pippa sure as hell wasn’t going to like his news, and who knew how she was going to react. All he knew was that he wanted to be the one to tell her and comfort her if she became upset. He sighed. So much for trying to make himself feel better.
Cursing to himself, he made his way through the crowds down to the stern.
“Jonathon, hi.” He heard Stevenson call his name. “Come and have a cigar with me.”
“Love to, George, but there’s a lot to be done for tomorrow. Save it ’til the fireworks?”
George gave him the thumbs up. Reaching the stern, Pippa was still nowhere to be found. Circling around back to the deck, he stopped and looked out over the still water. How could she disappear on a ship? There were a finite number of places she had to be, so where was she? She had to be told about Marcus coming tomorrow and by him only.
If she found out by someone other than him, she would be royally pissed off. Perhaps he should write her a letter. Nah, that was just stupid, she wouldn’t even bother to read it. He tapped a finger against his lips. Still, it was worth a go. Despite a desire to stay here and watch the scenery, listen to the rhythm of the waves and the wind, he had to carry on looking for her. And perhaps when he was in the Doubtful writing it, she may hear he was looking for her and come down. Here’s hoping.
• • •
Once she heard his footsteps recede, Pippa let go of the breath she had been holding, easing her aching lungs. She had positioned herself on a lifejacket box under the lifeboats, in an attempt to avoid the customers, namely Juliet Stevenson. Her emotions felt raw after her epiphany earlier on and she knew that Juliet’s smug face may be the thing to push her over the edge. Nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that she couldn’t bear seeing Jonathon without wanting to be close to him.
Upon smelling his unique smell, that sea pine spice scent, close her heart had clutched at her chest and started yammering. If he were her soul mate, he would have heard the internal drum of her heart and soul and turned to see her.
But after a pause, he had moved on. Well, he was gone now, so at least she could distract herself with her work again. It was lovely and quiet here, and Pippa decided there and then to make it her office, her little hidey hole. Talk about an office with a view.
Several hours later, the cold fingering its way through her clothes, Pippa uncurled herself. Sitting up, she stretched up to the Milky Way. Hi, Southern Cross. All of her work was finished for the night, she had written out plans and timings for each station in the kitchen, and there was no more she could do until the food arrived in the morning.
Time for a hot chocolate, and maybe she’d be naughty and pop a whisky in it. Pure medicinal purposes, as she wanted a good sleep without worrying what the next evening may bring.
Fiona was asleep by the time she got back to their room with her drink, and Pippa crept around their room getting ready for bed with only the light from the crack of the ajar door to go by. The faint taste of whisky cutting through the creamy hot chocolate was heavenly, and Pippa found she didn’t miss her nightly read as sleep soon came to claim her.
• • •
Jonathon wasn’t quite tearing his hair out, but he was close. Pippa was damned elusive. The thought had crossed his mind that perhaps she had jumped ship, but it was quickly banished. Her professionalism, and he smiled as he thought of it, wouldn’t allow her to do so.
The BBC were on their way. Juliet had texted him to say they would arrive at six A.M., but she didn’t know if Marcus Longbottom was accompanying them or arriving on his own. They had a meet and greet session upon arrival, and if he couldn’t find Pippa beforehand then hopefully she would be at work by the time the meeting was over. He had written her a letter, and in it he had told her about Marcus arriving. Not being sure of what else to say, he had played safe by asking her to see him as soon as possible. If there was too much information and the letter got into the wrong hands, it could jeopardise the deal.
I just hope she lets me explain.
• • •
Pippa’s inner alarm went off, awakening her bright and early. Five-thirty A.M. Yikes, she was early, but she knew excitement and nerves wouldn’t let her sleep in. Fiona slumbered on beside her, oblivious to the fact that this was the most exciting day of Pippa’s career. Pippa was tempted to shake her awake, but reason stopped her. She grabbed her shower gear and her clothes for the day, and padded down the empty corridor toward the bathroom, thanking her lucky stars there wasn’t a queue to face at this hour of the morning. Taking advantage of the fact that no one was waiting, she washed and conditioned her hair, something she did only rarely as it took up so much time, and couldn’t be done if there were fellow staff members outside. The day ahead was going to be long and busy, and the makeup would no doubt slide down her face by mid-morning, but she applied it with a shaky hand. May as well look her best.
She took the stairs to the kitchen two at a time, her mind cycling through the agenda. First thing was to meet with her second chef, Alfonso, and go through the day with him. She tunelessly whistled through her teeth as she went around turning on the kitchen’s florescent lights. Oh, she loved her job, and the frissons of excitement that snaked their way through her. The smell of freshly percolated coffee rose in the air and soon Alfonso came into view, yawning, but holding two cups of coffee.
“Your morning coffee, Pippa.”
“Thanks, Alfonso, you’re a gem. This will, no doubt, be the fir
st of many today. Come on, let’s head into the office, I’ve got your copy of the plans with me.”
As they sat there chatting through the day, confidence took a firm hold. She was in control. Everything was fine. They’d be celebrating the most successful Gala Dinner ever tonight. No question of it.
Seeing movement out of her peripheral vision, she turned to Alfonso. “Excellent, it looks as though the breakfast chefs are turning up. Let’s go and see about the deliveries.”
“Sure thing, boss.” Alfonso stuck his hand out to her. “It’s going to be a good day.” He shook her hand vigorously and smiled at her as they stepped out of the office.
“Hang on, I forgot my clipboard.” Pippa turned to go back and stopped dead. Her tired mind was playing tricks on her.
There, in front of her, was Marcus.
Chapter Thirteen
She blinked.
She shook her head.
Perhaps her mind was too worn out. Maybe it was recalling the last time she had a big exciting day ahead of her when working with Marcus. She closed her eyes, held them closed, and then opened one a fraction to peer out. It was no good. He was still there.
Her tummy flipped over. What on earth was happening? Was he here to find her, to tell her it had all been a mistake and he wanted her back? Surely not. Thoughts swirled, each one clamouring for her attention.
“Pippa, it’s mighty good to see you.” Marcus held out his arms as though to encase her in a hug. She took a step backwards, clutching her coffee cup for dear life. Alfonso looked at her, and stepped half in front of her.
“Hi, I’m Marcus.” He put a hand out to Alfonso, who ignored it.
“I know who you are, but I don’t see what you’re doing in Pippa’s kitchen.”
Yeah, Alfonso, you tell him. Marcus was looking smooth, almost as though he’d had botox injected in his forehead, and his clothes hung on a body that clearly had been working out since the last time she had seen him.
“Don’t you know? Pippa?” Marcus looked past Alfonso to her, his forehead doing funny things in an effort to frown. She cleared her throat, and tried to take her gaze from it.
“No, Marcus, but I’m hoping you will enlighten us.”
The cockiness left his stance, and he looked small. “Well, I’m here to cater — ” He cut off as the sound of people talking came to them, clearly coming this way. Pippa heard Jonathon’s voice, and she had a sense of being behind a fuzzy screen, watching everything going on and being helpless to stop it or to leave. Similar to a lucid dream and she shivered under the bright lights.
Jonathon and Juliet rounded the corner, arguing.
“You told me six A.M., you exasperating woman.” He stopped short upon seeing them, and Juliet nearly ran into the back of him.
“Ow, watch … oh. Hi everyone, Marcus,” Juliet said. Pippa had never heard Marcus name’s being said with such a predatory purr, and she watched in disbelief as Juliet reached over and planted a lingering kiss on his cheek. This was getting more bizarre by the second.
“Have you been introduced to Pippa?” Juliet had a look of triumph on her face that heightened Pippa’s sense of impending disaster and sent her flipped tummy through the floor.
“We know each other.” Marcus spoke quietly, his blue eyes on Pippa.
“Marcus, darling,” Juliet gazed at him with adoration, and frowned when she saw the direction his look had taken, “agreed to come over to cook for the Gala Dinner this evening.”
Pippa shook her head minutely and blinked. The fuzzy screen turned to high definition. With the sound muted. She looked around at them in slow motion. Alfonso looked confused, Juliet exultant, Marcus was unsure, and Jonathon … it was when she saw Jonathon that she knew. He gazed at her, concern turning his tawny eyes velvet, and looking deeper into his eyes, she saw guilt. It was true. Dammit. Damn him. Damn them all. Tears threatened but she would be damned herself if she let them loose.
She flung her tea-towel over her shoulder and turned on the heels of her chef’s clogs. Jonathon moved quickly, to be at her shoulder.
“I can explain,” he said in a low voice to her.
She stopped, and lifted her head up with an effort. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Pippa.” It was Marcus. “When I heard about this publicity stunt, I jumped at it. I couldn’t wait to see you again. You look fantastic.” He reached out again to her, and once more she stepped out of his reach. She tried to unscramble her brain, but the thoughts were too slippery for her to get a grip.
“Pardon? Oh, you too, Marcus. I’ll be back in a minute, I just need to check on something.” How she’d managed to come out with something coherent was beyond her. Jonathon fell into step beside her as she moved away. When they had gone out of earshot, she stopped, her body feeling too heavy to move.
“What the hell is he doing here? Is this some kind of sick joke?” She rounded on him, feeling the fire gather in her belly and welcoming it in the hope it would turn her disappointment to ash.
Jonathon massaged his temples but gazed at her intently.
“No, it’s not. I’m sorry, this was set up without my assent or even knowledge.”
“I thought you were the CEO, in control of everything on board this ship.” She spat the words at him, yet even as she said them, the heat of the moment started to depart her, leaving congealed disappointment behind.
“It’s not that simple,” Jonathon said.
She gazed down the corridor, not hearing him. Her wonderful day, all over before it had begun.
“Pippa, please listen to me. I didn’t know — ”
To her horror, she felt the tears gathering, constricting her throat. Hold it together, just for now. I can do that at least. But she had to get out of there before she fell apart.
“Don’t make it worse.” Her voice rose on the last word and she wrapped her arms around herself.
“I just want to explain,” Jonathon said.
“Okay. But not now. I need to grab five minutes to myself.”
She stopped, needing to breathe in the hope that mere oxygen could sustain her through the next few seconds. “Just to make sure I’ve got it straight, though, Marcus Longbottom is here to cook for the Gala Dinner tonight? I’m not required?”
“Of course you are, it couldn’t be done without you.”
Baloney.
“But to all intents and purposes, for the sake of better publicity, Marcus is cooking.” Pippa ran a hand over her face, pressing her forefinger and thumb into the corner of her eyes, damming the tears. She kept her eyes closed.
“Only for the publicity, yes.”
“Fine. Give me some time, then you know where you can find me.” Drawing strength from the upcoming solitude, she looked fully at him, the resulting physical jolt shocking her with its intensity. Tenderness was written all over his face for her. It seemed like he … he cared for her.
“Great, I’ll bring the coffee.” Relief rang loud and clear in his words. “And Pippa, just let me say one thing.” He reached out a hand to cup her face and stroked her cheek with his thumb.
All her senses culminated in her face, all the better to feel his touch but somehow, with a mammoth internal struggle, she managed not to turn to the warmth and submerge herself in it.
“I’m sorry this has happened. I didn’t mean it to, I promise you.”
“Sure.” The word shook and she turned before the world followed suit, for wracking sobs were on the horizon and advancing fast. “I’ll see you soon.”
The corridor she walked down seemed to go on forever, the walls closing in. Don’t think, just put one foot in front of the other. As she passed through the staff accommodation, she heard Fiona’s laugh from behind a closed door. She must have gone to see David, who shared his room with the chefs, and so their own room would be empty.
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Her bed called to her, and the thought of burying herself beneath the duvet and giving into her despair appealed greatly. But the knowledge that someone, sooner or later, would come looking for her gave her the strength to resist. She sat on the edge, gnawing on her thumbnail. She felt like a little girl, with Christmas cancelled. It was too much. Tears escaped to spill silently down her cheeks, a steady stream to rival the Queen Elizabeth Falls outside.
Yet an answer glistened through her befuddled brain. Leave then. Leave it all behind her. But go where? Oh who cares, just get out of here. Getting up, she struggled out of her chef’s whites and flung on her jeans and jumper. It was then she saw the envelope, on the ground, where the door must have pushed it. Her name was written on it, in strong, bold print, and, hand shaking, she opened it.
Dear Pippa, I’ve been looking all over for you. Marcus Longbottom is on his way over here, to increase our much-needed publicity tomorrow. I need to talk to you about it so when you get this, would you please, whatever the time is, come to the Doubtful so I can explain? J.
She ran her fingers over the script. His writing was like him: strong, no nonsense, and arrogant. Sorry, Pippa, you’re just not good enough for our Gala Dinner, so we’re flying over your ex-boss to put things right.
In an effort to stem the tears she promised herself a good cry when she was away from here, and packed the last of her things. With a final look at the cabin, she hoisted her bag on her shoulder and shut the door. Don’t think, just do. Hopefully the Xplorer would be making a trip inland to take the customers who wanted to kayak in the sound into bay.
She kept her head down as she walked, the last thing she wanted was to run into someone she knew. Although a small part of her yearned to be stopped and to have her decision taken out of her hands. Was she right to go? Would the kitchen handle the dinner without her? What about Jonathon? The realization she had come to last night? Could she not stay and talk, at least, to him?
Romancing the Seas Page 14
