by Munt, S. K
Three quarters of the Seaview area consisted of sugar cane farms, and most of the land closest to the beach was occupied by a bizarre blend of bush meets rainforest, so the original owner must have been the quirky sort to stick a tropical paradise resort in the middle of nowhere. But there it sat, the four star resort on the hill overlooking a quiet beach, with a view to the Cumberland Islands. Somehow, people came, every year, shunning the showiness of The Whitsunday's for somewhere a little more tranquil. His mother had loved it.
The southern road went over the hill to the Seaview residential area. Once upon a time, most of Seaview’s residents had lived in hastily-built beach shacks, but now the shore was lined with fancy apartments and the hills dotted with McMansions. Still, the shacks remained-vacation houses for some, permanent residents for surfers in others.
Lincoln took his place in line behind a young, blonde male in the coffee shop, glancing at is watch and wishing he’d come there first before going to the newsagency down the road. He needed the caffeine after his sleepless night and he didn’t want to have to wait for it. But on the bright side, the younger girl was working today-perhaps he’d avoid an unpleasant run-in with the ogre who owned the place? If that was the case, then he’d break his routine more often and come every Saturday morning.
But he wasn’t as fortunate as he’d hoped. He spotted his nemesis the moment he looked around properly. She was reclining in a chair in the corner, nursing a tiny baby. That’s when he realized that she’d been missing for a few weeks, and he kicked himself for not making more visits in her absence. Too bad she obviously wasn’t the type to take a long maternity leave.
He could see the reflection of the young man in front of him in the expresso machine, and he instantly recognized the him as the guy he’d seen Pintang talking to by the pool not half an hour beforehand. Lincoln groaned inwardly-standing next to this guy was not doing wonders for his already flailing self-esteem!
The bell signaled that another customer had entered behind him, but he didn’t bother looking. He just wanted to get his latte and get gone.
‘Decaf frappe please.... soy milk,’ the boy before him said to the clerk, a young teenage brunette who always seemed to be there. ‘And your phone number, if you can write it on top with a bit of extra caramel sauce.’
‘You got it,’ the girl giggled, clearly smitten. ‘I’ll see if I can get a break, huh?’
‘Awesome.’
Lincoln felt pre-historic. The young waitress had never even smiled at him before. The older woman stood up, closing her shirt expertly with one hand and switching the baby to her shoulder.
‘Take five Abigail,’ she said, making her way behind the counter, eyeing Lincoln with dull hazel eyes. Lincoln could already feel the dread rushing over him as she began to prepare his order without bothering to take it.
‘How’s it going old man?’ she asked over the top of the expresso machine, a gleam in her eye. ‘I could have sworn I saw you jogging the other day!’
‘That was me,’ he said smoothly, sliding a ten dollar bill across the counter as he stepped up to it, instantly self-conscious. ‘I just started.’
She nodded. ‘I could tell. You looked like you were struggling a bit.’
He ground his teeth together. ‘Well, it’s getting easier.’
‘Just don’t give yourself a heart attack or anything, okay?’ her tone was conversational, but she wasn’t fooling him-nor did she mean to. ‘It must suck when you remember all that life guard training last century and how easy it was then-all of it. The girls, the fitness, the fun.....’
Just as Lincoln was daydreaming about holding her tongue under the steam valve, someone brushed against his shoulder to step up to the counter.
‘Excuse me,’ she said quietly.
Lincoln did a double take. It was Ivyanne. There was no mistaking that head of hair anywhere. Oh no! He thought, wanting the floor to open up and swallow him. She heard everything! His face turned red and he stiffened-wondering what further humiliation was awaiting him now.
Ivyanne was in casual clothes, not her uniform, and looked almost as good in the faded denim shirt and pink tight fitting t-shirt as she did in a bikini-all soft cotton and curves. With her hair pulled into a long braid and a hint of make-up, she looked less like her sister than he’d seen her yet. Ivanna had always favored natural, earthy tones-but clearly her little sister was a bit trendier. Lincoln’s mouth went dry. Wasn’t the experience humiliating enough without having her there to witness it?
‘Oh... what an adorable baby!’ Ivyanne suddenly cooed, resting her elbows on the counter, keeping her back to him. If she’d recognized him, she didn’t acknowledge it. ‘How old?’
‘One week.’ The ogre was, suddenly all smiles and goo-goo eyes. ‘Isn’t he beautiful?’
‘He really is! Congratulations!’ Ivyanne’s voice was sweet and melodic. Even the baby’s eyes seemed more focused now that she was in the room. He eyed her, stuffing a puffy fist in his tiny mouth.
I hear yah. Lincoln silently commiserated with the infant. Too old for you buddy, and too young for me.
The next words out of Ivyanne’s mouth completely floored him:
‘So, is this your first grandchild?’
For a moment, the woman gaped at Ivyanne in a stupor. ‘Excuse me?’ she stammered. ‘No! This is my son!’
Lincoln’s mouth popped open, but he quickly shut it
‘Oh!’ Ivyanne’s hands went to her mouth, an appalled expression on her face. ‘Oh my god I’m so sorry! Please, don’t be offended..... I know lots of women your age are having kids later in life-’
‘My age?!’ the woman barked, slamming Lincoln’s coffee cup down in front of Ivyanne so hard that foam burst through the hole on the rim. Her face was almost purple. ‘I’m not even thirty yet!’
Lincoln realized what Ivyanne had just done the moment the woman turned away from the counter. She turned to face him, treating him to a brilliant smile that made something deep inside him quake. But as soon as she faced him, acknowledging her ruse, she turned away again, looking guilty and crestfallen.
‘I really am sorry.…’
For me! Lincoln was beside himself. She gave her a taste of her own medicine-for ME!
‘Forget about it!’ the woman raged, storming out the back. ‘I need to go get more milk! Abigail! Watch the counter!’
‘Um.... okay...’
Lincoln glanced over at the younger waitress who was hurrying to her feet. She looked gobsmacked, and the boy was watching Ivyanne with wide eyes.
Lincoln himself could have been knocked over with a feather. He wanted to thank Ivyanne- whom he had just elevated to superhero in his foggy brain-but before he could get out the words, the woman came back in.
‘Whaddya want anyway?’ she snapped, cleaning off the steam valve with a tea towel. ‘Non-fat something, right?’
‘Oh no-I hate non fat milk, plus, I just walked here so I’ve earned a treat. Give me….. a butterscotch latte with cream please. I’ve heard you make great coffee here.’
Lincoln finally snapped out of it. Knowing Ivyanne had his back, he stepped up beside her again.
‘Excuse miss.... but can I buy that for you?’ Lincoln tried to turn on the charm he’d once been so adept at. The fact that it was all a farce made it so much easier, like being an actor in a play. ‘And maybe join you?’ Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the barista had stopped whatever she was doing and was now watching with astonishment as he made a play for a teenager.
Ivyanne ducked her head and peeked up at him between beautiful thick eyelashes, her sea-green eyes dancing with mischief. ‘Really? Wow... I’d like that,’ she reached up and stroked his arm. ‘Hey aren’t you the manager of the resort I’m staying at?’ she giggled, a girlish, blissful sound. ‘Feel like giving me a private tour?’
‘Sounds like a plan,’ he murmured, his eyes flicking to her mouth without him being able to help it. ‘I’ll meet you at the reception, okay?’
<
br /> ‘Okay,’ she breathed.
Lincoln glanced over at the barista and winked, a cheeky gesture which was rewarded with a look so full of loathing that he was surprised she didn’t spontaneously combust.
‘Guess there are a few things I’m not too old for yet, huh?’ He asked cheekily. The barista’s face went purple. Lincoln then turned and headed outside, letting the door swing shut behind him, trying to sip his coffee but failing with clumsy, grinning lips. He felt so light, so brilliant, that he didn’t even care that it had been for show. Ivyanne had just done him a major service, and he wouldn’t soon forget it.
10.
Tristan was on Ivyanne’s heels so quickly that the annoying bell over the door only had a chance to the jingle the one time.
‘Okay what the hell was that?’ he demanded the second their feet hit the pavement outside the shop.
Ivyanne didn’t look back at him. ‘What?’
He grabbed her hand and swung her around so she had to face him. ‘Um.... that little act you just put on for the gargoyle making coffee?’ He said, full of contempt. ‘That guy was your boss Ivyanne. What-he didn’t recognize you?’
Ivyanne looked heavenward. ‘Oh my god Tristan, chill, okay? Didn’t you hear the way she was talking to him?’
He shrugged. ‘Yeah... so? She’s clearly a mutant... what does that have to do with you?’
Ivyanne tapped her foot impatiently. ‘Nothing okay? He and I were talking last night before last, and he mentioned that she always insults him when he goes down there. I didn’t know he was going to be here this morning-I walked down. But when I saw the little exchange, I couldn’t help but get a dig in. I’m just relieved that he played along.’
Tristan crossed his arms, studying her. Irritated or not, she’d never looked sexier. ‘So you’re a good fairy now?’
Ivyanne shrugged. ‘You know what, if you knew the whole story, you probably would have done the same thing, okay? He’s a decent guy, and she’s making him feel like a geriatric.’ She eyed him warily. ‘What does it matter to you anyway?’
Tristan stared down at the ground, scuffing the toe of his sneaker against the footpath. ‘I don’t know, it just seemed weird. You, flirting with another guy....’
Ivyanne made a snorting sound. ‘Oh my god, do not tell me you were jealous.’
He looked up at her sheepishly. ‘Well.... I did come all this way....’
‘Tristan!’ Ivyanne yelped. ‘What is wrong with your head? I saw you trying to pick up that little brunette in there-where do you even get off acting like you have some sort of prior claim on my attentions?’
Tristan exhaled. ‘I was told you were coming here, okay? I got a cab. I was hoping to make you jealous-not to get an actual date with that chick!’
Ivyanne made a face. ‘Tristan I know damn well what you’re like, okay? Hitting on other women in front of me is just going to increase my resentment, not my desire.’
That cut him. ‘Even after, you know...’ he hated the weak tone of his voice. ‘What happened on Thursday night?’
‘Thursday night?’ she repeated. ‘I’m sorry, did we fall in love, and I just missed it?’ She threw up her hands. ‘For all I know, you’re just toying with me right now!’
‘I’m not,’ he said quickly. ‘I mean, yeah, I came down here to mess with your head a little.’ He’d never noticed the differing shimmers of green in her eyes before-like the facets of a jewel reflecting sunlight. ‘But getting jealous myself wasn’t in the plan.’ That was hard for Tristan to admit. ‘Look I’m sorry-I wasn’t expecting to see you flirting with someone else.’
‘Well I wasn’t flirting, not for real. He’s just my boss and he knows it was for show. I was able to cut him a break-so I did.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘I can’t make you leave Tristan, but aren’t you supposed to make me want you to stay? Not hang about to criticize me?’
Tristan was about to answer, when the sound of someone clearing their throat cut him off dead. Slowly, he and Ivyanne both pivoted to see the very person they’d just been talking about, leaning against his shiny black Toyota, a coffee in one hand, keys in the other.
‘Excuse the interruption kids... but I was hanging around to offer Ivyanne a lift home,’ He smiled a lopsided smile at Tristan. ‘But from what I hear-you could use one too mate.’
Tristan glanced from the man to Ivyanne, who was already scowling furiously at him. He held up his hands in an expression of helplessness-his face burning with the humiliation of being caught in a private moment of jealousy by the very man who had threatened him-and being absolutely unable to explain himself. Tristan couldn’t remember the last time he’d been humiliated before he’d come to this place, and now it had happened twice in forty eight hours. No, he wasn’t enjoying his vacation at all.
⁓
As rattled as Ivyanne was by the scene with Tristan and Lincoln, the car ride made her so nauseous that she almost forgot about it all. At least that she didn’t have to hide it-many humans suffered from motion sickness. It gave her a good excuse to roll down the window and ignore them while she regained control of herself.
‘You wanna drive?’ Lincoln asked. ‘It’ll make you feel better.’
Tristan snorted in the backseat-knowing full well that Ivyanne could count the number of times she’d been in a car in one hand, and were she to take the wheel, she’d certainly kill all three of them.
‘No, that’s okay,’ Ivyanne murmured, ‘it’s not exactly a long trip.’
The road veered between grassy hills and farms, occasionally brushing up against the side of the rainforest before swerving away again, towards the coast. Ivyanne realized that the slopes and inclines and pin turns were the root of her distress-she’d never gotten this sick in a jeep flying along the sand with her father and his filmmaking crew before.
When they arrived back at the resort, Ivyanne wasn’t surprised to see Tristan get out of the car, mumble a thanks and take off through the reception like he was suddenly in a hurry. As mortifying as the situation was, it was nice to see Tristan tripping all over the place- over her. Who would have seen that coming? It was almost endearing.
A strategic retreat wasn’t on the cards for her though. She knew it, and so he did Lincoln. Ivyanne lingered while he got out, willing the world to stop spinning long enough to control her nausea. A million thoughts raced through her brain as she leaned against Lincoln’s beautiful car and decided how she was going to handle things from there. She took a tentative sip of the coffee in her hands and winced at the overly sweet yet heinously bitter taste which instantly stained her taste buds.
‘Oh gross. Really... this coffee is worth the weekly insults?’
‘You have to be a coffee drinker to appreciate it’s unique flavour.’
‘I’d have to be a gasoline drinker to find this appealing at all.’ Ivyanne put the cup down and folded her arms, thinking on her feet, running over the argument with Tristan in her head and scanning it for anything incriminating which may have been said. But nothing alarming came to mind. They were lucky he hadn’t given the game away entirely!
Lincoln smiled. ‘Okay so I’m sure you already know how grateful I am to you for what you did back there-I’ll never forget the look on her face. It was splendid. I definitely owe you one.’
‘Think nothing of it,’ Ivyanne said. She’d almost forgotten about that part! ‘I feel like I ought to be apologizing instead, for not warning you, and for Tristan....’
Lincoln moved so that he was standing in front of her. ‘I’ll admit, I was surprised to hear you talking to each other at all. It’s not often that one of our wealthiest guests and newest bartenders have a prior relationship.’ He frowned. ‘Is he your boyfriend or something? He certainly seemed...possessive.’
Ivyanne forced herself to meet his curious gaze and shrugged. ‘It’s really complicated.’
He chuckled. ‘Why do I get the feeling that everything about you is complicated? I mean, sorry to say this, but you’re just like
your sister.’
‘Hmm.....’ Ivyanne looked down at her shoes. God how was she going to play this? ‘You’re right, of course. Nothing in my life ever seems simple or normal.’
Lincoln lifted her chin with his finger. ‘Ivyanne, I’m really sorry for what you’ve gone through-all of you-but I have to know.... what’s the deal with your family? I mean, I get that you can’t tell me anything, or much... but give me a vague idea, okay? It’s been driving me nuts for almost twenty years.’
Ivyanne laughed. ‘Putting me on the spot here Link!’
His eyes lost their smile. ‘I mean to.’
‘Oh...’ Ivyanne rubbed her eyes, wearily. ‘What did my sister tell you?’
He shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. ‘Fuck all really.’ The rough word conveyed just how much patience he had lost with he mysterious Court family. ‘She said you guys had a large extended family, that you travelled a lot, that for the most part, you were mainly home schooled... she just never said why.’
Ivyanne pressed her hands together, silently drawing on her own strength and wit to get her through the conversation without digging a deeper hole. ‘We’re rich, okay? I mean, really, really rich. And we have been... for a long time.’
Lincoln’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Old money?’
‘The oldest,’ Ivyanne sighed. ‘My mother technically has a title-one I will not share with you, but it’s an important one. My father is a filmmaker- documentaries. They fell in love and had my sister and I..... we’re the only biological kids they had.’ So far, Ivyanne was telling the truth-aside from the sister part. It made it all the more easier.
‘I knew it!’ Lincoln exclaimed. ‘The others are adopted, right?’
‘Some of them are-mostly they’re fragments of families who needed help.’ Ivyanne omitted the part about exactly how intensely they had transformed their lives. ‘My family are what you would call, activists. We visit smaller island communities and help those who don’t have a stable government backing them. We build things. Homes, schools..... but not churches or anything. We’ve not religious.’ She let out another truth. ‘Dad films what catches his interest as we go. He’s big on maritime stuff. He’s off right now actually in the middle of one.’
