Finding Cory

by Caitlyn Lynch

  “I think it might be best. I don’t particularly want the press getting wind that I’m here, Hunter Enterprises is privately owned so it’s not like there’s a stock price to crash, but still…”

  “Jace, you don’t need to give me a reason. It’s all good.” Luke handed him a plastic card. “Here.”

  “What’s this?”

  “It’s a comp card. It means you don’t pay for anything, anywhere, at any of the bars and restaurants. You own the place, after all.” Luke’s grin was cheerful. “It’d be a bit dumb to ask you to pay for anything. This way, you don’t have to sign for anything; we’re a cashless economy here, you’ll recall?”

  “Like a cruise ship.” Jace nodded. “So, if I use this card, there’s no need to use the villa’s account, and no need to put my name on anything.”

  “And nobody to be alerted to your identity.” Luke steered the golf cart along a paved path winding among groves of palm trees. “Housekeeping opened the villa up and stocked your kitchen, but I’ll advise them that a family friend is using the place. If you want maid service, just let me know and I’ll have somebody come in when you’re out. Just one question, if I may?”

  The sea glinted blue on their left as they ascended a slope, moving away from the main resort; Jace knew they were approaching the non-resort part of the island, where some two dozen exclusive private villas had been built. A couple of them were occupied by permanent residents, but the rest were holiday homes for the mega-rich. He wasn’t likely to be afflicted with nosy neighbors.

  “What’s the question?” he asked, gazing at the glorious view of the sunlit Coral Sea opening up before them as they reached the top of the rise.

  “How long are you staying? And do you need medical support while you’re here?”

  “That’s two… but I’ll answer. I shouldn’t need any medical attention, no, and I expect to stay a couple of weeks, probably. Dad told me not to show my face at any Hunter Enterprises office again before two weeks is up.”

  “That doesn’t include my office,” Luke said with a grin. “Stop by anytime you want a chat, but I’ll have no compunctions about telling you to butt out of resort business.”

  “Deal.” Jace smiled back at Luke as the golf cart drew to a halt, thinking it would be nice to have a friend here he could talk to. Nice to have a friend to talk to at all, if he was being completely honest with himself. The cutthroat world of big business wasn’t exactly conducive to close personal friendships.

  ***

  Laying on the couch binge-watching Netflix was something he could only do for so long without going a little stir-crazy, Jace discovered after a couple of days. The scorching tropical sun made it unwise to spend too much time outside, though his winter-pale skin was already starting to develop a little golden color.

  He’d developed a routine: he swam in the villa’s private pool every morning, lay in the sun for a little while to dry off, then went inside and made breakfast. The villa’s kitchen was as well-stocked as Luke had promised; he had no need to go anywhere.

  Bored after the first half-day, he’d tried to log onto his email and do some work… only to find a single message from his father, advising him the IT wizards had locked him out of all company business until further notice. He was restricted to entertaining himself with the villa’s well-stocked supply of books or laying on the couch catching up on House Of Cards.

  Switching the TV off, Jace got up to pace the room restlessly. His energy levels were starting to return, and the unaccustomed inactivity was beginning to chafe. He should have put a gym in the villa, he thought grumpily. Not that he was in any fit state for his usual five-mile run on the treadmill.

  Well, if he couldn’t run, he could at least get outside for some fresh air. He’d go for a walk, and if he found he had the energy, he might go all the way to the main resort building and catch up with Luke.

  Decision made, it was only a few minutes before he was outside, hat on his head to shield him from the sun and running shoes on his feet. Someone had left a map of the island on the hall table, with the walking trails clearly marked. He grabbed it on the way out and checked the best route to take. Across the middle of the island into the southern end of the resort, he decided. The map’s key indicated it should take about twenty minutes to hike the trail.

  Ten minutes later, as he finally reached the top of the trail, he had to stop and lean against a tree for a while to rest. Should have brought water, he reproached himself. Stupid thing to forget. He should have known better, but it had been several years since he’d been on a hike and he’d been too eager to get out of the house.

  Jace examined the resort below him. There was a cluster of private cabins at this end and a pool with a bar, one of several restaurants, a little further away. He could get a drink at the pool bar; he’d at least had enough sense to shove the comp card Luke had given him into his pocket. Wiping sweat from his brow with the hem of his shirt and cursing his physical weakness under his breath for the umpteenth time, he started down the slope.

  “One dirty martini.” Nessa set the drink down in front of her customer, swiped the card through her reader, and offered it for his signature. Over his shoulder, she spied a man emerging from the rarely-used trailhead beyond the pool; he looked hot and sweaty. Shaking her head, she turned to rinse out her cocktail shaker. That guy was sure gonna need a drink.

  Turning back just as he sat down on a bar stool, she slid a coaster in front of him and said, “Good afternoon. What can I get you?”

  Light blue eyes blinked at her, and the man said, “You’re English!”

  “I’m from England. I’m an Australian citizen,” she gave her usual response. “Been here nearly ten years now.”

  “I guess the accent never really goes away.”

  She smiled tightly, knowing her accent gave her away as being from one of the seedier parts of East London. “Indeed.” Slapping a cocktail menu down before him with perhaps a little more force than actually necessary, she turned away to serve another customer who’d just swum up to the pool side of the bar.

  When she returned, the man asked for something long and cooling. Tempted to pour him some iced water, she asked instead, “Virgin?”

  Jace blinked in surprise. “It’s been a while, but no, I’m not.”

  The bartender threw her head back and laughed. She was pretty, Jace had noticed that right off: her skin a rich dark bronze with black hair falling to her waist in a mass of tiny braids. When she laughed, she was really beautiful, dimples appearing in her cheeks, light amber-brown eyes flashing with mirth.

  “I was asking if you want a hard or a soft drink. Alcoholic, or not,” she said through girlish giggles.

  “Oh.” Abashed, he felt color coming to his face. “Sorry. Brain fog. I think I’m a bit overheated.”

  A tall glass of iced water was set in front of him. “Why don’t you start with that, and then you can decide if you’d like something a bit stronger?” The dimples flashed again as she gave him a warm smile.

  “Thank you… Nessa,” he read the name tag on her blouse. “Short for Vanessa?”

  “No.”

  “How interesting, your dimples disappear when your smile isn’t genuine. Is it something embarrassing, then?”

  Nessa’s jaw dropped. “Are you always this direct?”

  “I like to cut through the bullshit. Jace.” He offered a hand across the bar. “Not short for anything. My mother just liked the name.” Only after he’d already said it, did he think maybe he should have used a different first name. Jace wasn’t exactly common, after all.

  Nessa hesitated a minute, and then she took his hand, leaned forward, and whispered close to his ear, “Tennessee.”

  He grinned. “Nessa’s better. Suits you. The other, I think I’d expect you to have a Southern drawl.”

  By now, Jace was the only one sitting at the bar. Nessa turned away from him, plucking a couple of bottles off the shelf. “No Southern drawl. I make a mean Georgia Pea
ch, though.”

  She deftly poured peach schnapps, vodka, grenadine, and cranberry juice into a shaker with crushed ice, shook it up swiftly, and poured it into a tall glass, topping it off with lemonade and a maraschino cherry speared on a tiny plastic sword. “Give that a try.”

  His water glass was empty, Jace realized as she swept it from in front of him and replaced it with the cocktail. He didn’t even remember draining it.

  “Thanks.” He took a sip, sighing with pleasure as the tart but sweet taste exploded over his tongue. “Ohhh. Oh, that’s perfection.”

  Nessa smiled, turning to rinse her shaker out. “You’re welcome. Got your card there?”

  “Sure.” He fished it out of his pocket, sliding it across the bar as she returned with a card reader.

  Nessa swiped the card without looking at it, blinking as the reader immediately gave her a green light. “What--oh, this is a comp card.” She handed it back with a curious look. “Are you staying at the main resort?”

  “No, in one of the villas. It belongs to a friend.” Jace took another long drink. “This really is exactly what I wanted. How did you know?”

  “I’m psychic. Every good bartender is, don’t ya know.” Nessa flashed him a grin.

  “I’ve heard that before. Half the ones I met in New York seemed to be studying psychiatry or psychology; they were pretty good mind-readers.”

  Nessa’s smile was rather wry. “Psychiatry. Got my doctorate three years ago.”

  “Really?” He blinked at her. “Uh…”

  “You’re wondering why I’m still tending bar rather than earning a fortune in practice somewhere, right? I don’t need to be a mind-reader to figure that one out. Almost everyone who knows I’ve got my doctorate has asked me the question at some point.”

  “Well, yeah.” She was as sharp as she was beautiful, Jace found himself thinking, propping his elbows on the bar and listening in fascination as she spoke.

  “I practiced for a year and realized I’d made a huge mistake.” Nessa shrugged, leaning back against one of the low refrigerators behind her, arms folded over her chest. “Being responsible for other people’s mental health is a massive burden, and one I was never really ready to take on.”

  “You lost a patient?” Jace guessed astutely.

  “I lost a whole bunch of them. I was the junior staff psychiatrist at Wacol detention center in Brisbane. There was a prison riot.” Nessa’s eyes went dark and distant. “Four dead, all patients I’d seen in the previous month. Five more transferred to maximum security jails elsewhere.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jace said quietly, knowing the sentiment was inadequate. Knowing she’d always blame herself, wonder if she could have seen it coming, could have done something to prevent it. “That must have been very difficult.”

  “As far as I was concerned, it was career-ending.” Nessa picked up a clean glass and a cloth, and started polishing it unnecessarily. “I could have gone back, but I didn’t want to. I tended bar throughout my degree and honestly I loved it. I went back to it permanently and decided to make it my career for good. Luke headhunted me for the resort about a year ago, and I never want to leave.” She set the glass back into the rack of clean ones with a small smile. “So now I just dispense gentle advice and excellent drinks to people who are usually trying to relax anyway.”

  “I’ll drink to that.” Jace lifted his near-empty glass to her, thinking as he did so he almost envied Nessa her confidence, her surety she was now on the right path, even if it might not be the one she’d directed so much of her life to following. “Can I buy you one?” he offered on impulse.

  “Thank you, but I don’t drink on duty and I’m comped as much free soda as I can drink.” Nessa shook her head at him with a smile, wondering as she did so why she’d told him so much of her story. She didn’t usually open up to people this way on first meeting. There was something about Jace, though, something in his light blue eyes which made her think he would be a difficult person to lie to. “Another one of those?” She nodded at his glass.

  “Better not, I haven’t eaten for a few hours and I haven’t had alcohol in a few weeks. I’ll be all over the place.”

  “Drying out?”

  “I’ve been ill, actually. Pneumonia.”

  Nessa nodded. She’d suspected something of the sort from the way his clothes hung a little on his frame, the gauntness of his cheeks, and the sallow tint to his skin. “Sunfish is a great place for recovery,” she said. “Warm weather, great atmosphere. You staying long?”

  Jace didn’t detect any nosiness in the question; just natural curiosity. “Couple weeks, probably,” he replied. “Maybe I’ll see you around again.”

  “I’ll be here.” She tossed him a smile. “This is my bar. Eleven ‘til seven, every day.”

  “You don’t get any days off?” That didn’t seem right. He’d have to speak to Luke about that; the staff needed personal time--

  “Of course I do. It varies which ones, though. Depends on when I can get someone to cover.”

  “I see.” He played with his empty glass, picking up the cherry and eating it before some impulse made him say, “Since you finish at seven, would you maybe care to have dinner with me?”

  Nessa paused, her always-busy hands stilling on the glasses she’d been sorting. “Staff members aren’t allowed to fraternize with resort guests.”

  “Fair enough, but I’m not technically a resort guest, am I? I’m staying in one of the villas.”

  She hesitated, then shook her head. “I have plans with some friends tonight.”

  Jace smiled, not taking offense. “Maybe another night.”

  “Maybe.” She tipped her head noncommittally.

  “It’s been nice chatting with you, Nessa.” He stood, stretched his arms up toward the sky with a sigh. “Oof, been too long since I did any exercise. I’m stiff just from that walk.”

  “Are you planning to walk back? Because it’s gonna be dark soon, and we’re up in the tropics here, we don’t really get a twilight period. It goes from full light to pitch dark very fast.”

  “I’ve noticed that, watching the sunsets the last couple of days,” Jace agreed with a nod.

  “You don’t want to be out on that trail in the dark. You won’t be able to see your footing, might take a nasty fall…”

  “You worried about me?” He gave her a cheeky smile. “Don’t worry. I was planning on walking up to the main resort to see a friend who works there. I’ll see if I can get him to give me a ride back in one of the golf carts.”

  “That sounds like a good plan.” Nessa found herself watching as Jace stretched again, the hem of his T-shirt riding up to reveal a flat, toned stomach… was that actually a six-pack? He was an attractive man, she thought a little unwillingly, even with shaggy hair and a scruffy beard. She liked her men a little more clean-cut normally, but there was definitely something about Jace. Maybe it was those hypnotic light blue eyes. “See you again sometime.”

  “I certainly hope so.” He gave her another broad smile before turning and heading off toward the main resort.

  Nessa watched him until he was out of sight, wondering if she would indeed see him again. She didn’t shake herself out of her reverie until a customer sat down at the bar and coughed politely to attract her attention.

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  Author Notes

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