Chapter 3
3
Shit. Damn. Bloody hell .
Cursing silently helped only a little as Sophie tried to pull herself together. What were the chances? She couldn’t believe he was still here. Restless, nomadic Andreas Hinterdorfer was still in Weymouth and he’d just made a fool of her again – or she’d made a fool of herself. Whichever it was, she could feel the looks Reshma was surreptitiously shooting her. That Willard Coombs remembered her was yet another nail in the coffin of her dignity.
Mr Coombs would remember her as the groupie who’d hung around the guides, drooling over Andreas with stars in her eyes. The fact that he’d slept with her for months and then discarded her like excess weight before heading off on his next expedition didn’t seem to concern his friends – including the receptionist, who Sophie recognised from that time.
Toni, that was her name. She’d been pregnant, Sophie remembered with a twinge. She’d read months later that her husband Miroslav had been killed somewhere in the Himalayas before he’d ever seen his baby – killed while on an expedition with Andreas.
‘ If Toni goes, I go, ’ he’d said. Maybe Toni was what had kept him in Weymouth all these years when nothing had been able to tie him down before. Sophie hated the pettiness in her that resented the possibility. Toni had been a nice woman, from what she remembered. It wasn’t her fault that Andreas had dumped Sophie unceremoniously before that expedition.
All fault lay firmly with Andreas himself, including the responsibility for this awkward silence in the meeting room after he’d stormed out without even greeting her. At least she could congratulate herself on not drooling this time, although the bastard had had the nerve to look just as incredible as he always had: craggy features, a lopsided mouth and those limitless green eyes that glowed like copper in the sunshine. Even the shimmer of grey in his beard and the lines on his forehead didn’t dim the effect of the man who had climbed Everest with no supplemental oxygen, just the force of his personality.
Sophie responded to Reshma’s raised eyebrows with an accusing look. I told you this was a bad idea . She would never have casually mentioned Great Heart as an example of the kind of company they could work with, if she’d known Reshma would go out and buy them.
‘I apologise for Andreas,’ Mr Coombs continued in a small voice. ‘He’s been sleeping in a tent for a week.’
‘In February ?’ Reshma exclaimed.
He nodded. ‘Our clients aren’t usually interested in spa treatments and champagne.’ He gestured for them to take their seats once more.
‘Would you believe, that is something we have in common,’ Reshma said. ‘We’ve seen an increasing trend towards weddings in spectacular locations, or involving adventure activities as part of the celebrations. When Sophie mentioned sub-contracting a company like yours, I decided we should be bold and take it a step further. What do you think of “Great Heart Adventure Weddings”, Mr Coombs? We share clients and information, polish up your guides with some new skills and offer a radical travel package.’
Mr Coombs laughed, loud and deep. The hair on the back of Sophie’s neck stood on end as she sat silently – miserably – and waited for the next argument. But when he calmed and looked between Reshma and Sophie, there was a twinkle in his eye. ‘I’m intrigued. And I think you’ll find Toni is a necessary part of the new company, Ms Bakshi. She’s the only person I can think of who loves weddings and guides.’
He darted a glance at Sophie and it was enough for the prickles over her skin to start up again. He didn’t have to say it. She knew Andreas would hate the idea with a passion – the way he was allergic to family and commitment and romance. And apparently personal hygiene.
When the door flew open again, the smell of unwashed clothes presaged his return, his face expressionless this time. He wore a bright-blue technical jacket that did nothing to hide the breadth of his shoulders. His hair needed cutting. It curled golden-brown from under his baseball cap. A silver hoop winked in one ear and Sophie really did not need to remember right at that moment how he’d groaned when she’d sunk her teeth into that lobe. Oh dear.
‘Ah, Andreas. You are joining us. Sit down.’ Mr Coombs gestured to the seat next to Sophie and she was mortified to feel her face heat.
Andreas gave her a measured look and then took the seat next to Reshma instead – pointedly, Sophie imagined.
‘Since that was the final detail of the contract, Mr Coombs,’ Reshma continued, ‘we can probably wrap this up. Sophie is eager to pin down the arrangements for our first couple.’
She was going to kill Reshma – unless the ground opened up and mercifully swallowed her first.
‘What contract? What couple?’
Mr Coombs sent Andreas a quelling gesture and turned to Reshma. ‘Does that mean we’re in agreement? You’ll accept a clause protecting my employees?’
‘If you can convince them to work for me at weddings on occasion, then yes. Kira Watling and Toni Goschl will remain on staff.’
A huff of laughter erupted from Andreas and he drew up straight from his slump. ‘Kira? Working at a wedding? Are you joking?’
‘I’m sure Ms Watling will be more than capable,’ Reshma said smoothly, eyeing Andreas in a way that gave Sophie a fresh shot of admiration for her boss. ‘The fact remains that we have more clients than we can handle and Great Heart Adventures is not so fortunate. I was very much hoping to gain your support too, Mr Hinterdorfer, even though you’re only employed on a casual basis.’
Sophie drew her brows together. If Andreas was only casual, then she wouldn’t have to see him often. She couldn’t imagine him dealing with florists and caterers and fancy hotels and he’d surely refuse even if he was asked. Perhaps he’d just leave the business entirely. She could hope.
He looked ready to laugh again, but paused when he accepted that Reshma might be serious. ‘What do you need me for?’
Reshma gave him an amused smile and Sophie was appalled to see how easily he’d disarmed her boss with a single, baffled look.
Sophie spoke up. ‘Reshma, I think Mr Hinterdorfer,’ it was so strange calling him by his surname, ‘is allergic to weddings.’
His gaze snapped to hers and Sophie’s breath stalled. That had been the wrong thing to say. The memory of their last conversation came alive between them. His expression was dark – unlike the mocking tone he’d used eight years ago – but that was probably because the news of the proposed merger had come as a nasty surprise.
‘She’s right,’ he rasped gruffly. ‘The only wedding I’ve ever attended was Toni’s and that was just the three of us.’
Sophie was annoyed to feel the spark of curiosity again at his mention of Toni, his voice softening over her name.
‘I don’t do weddings.’ He glanced at his boss accusingly. ‘What’s going on? What does Great Heart have to do with weddings?’
‘Perhaps Sophie is the best one to explain,’ Reshma said in a diplomatic tone, but the alarmed glance he shot Sophie filled her with misgiving. He didn’t want to talk to her any more than she wanted to see him.
‘Reshma—’
‘Since she’s the one who made me realise there’s a market for an adventure wedding package.’
Oh, God. Andreas’s gaze had hardened to alpine granite and she wished she’d never mentioned anything about adventure weddings or Great Heart. Then Reshma continued speaking and all of Sophie’s hairs stood on end.
‘I understand you lead a tour to Lake Garda for Great Heart – one of the activities that reliably books out every year. As you will be able to help with our current clients quite specifically, Mr Hinterdorfer, perhaps you could clean up and then spare Sophie an hour of your time? You will be paid at your normal rate.’
No . Sophie couldn’t work with Andreas – especially not on a wedding, no matter how well he knew the area. She needed what little pride she had left.
‘I’m not the right person to help plan a wedding.’
‘Andreas,’ Willard Coombs said in a low voice. ‘You know bookings have been dire. Unless you want to fly home for two weeks and pick up some work in the Alps, I don’t have anything else for you right now. Maybe you should renegotiate your rate too, since I know you don’t charge me enough.’
Andreas shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the door behind which Toni, the receptionist, would be waiting.
‘I need to find sponsors for Manaslu – and train. I don’t— I can’t help with a wedding.’ His wild glance was further evidence he was thinking back to Sophie’s na?ve mistake years ago. The only blessing was that they’d broken contact so completely that he had no idea of Sophie’s other marriage-related disaster.
‘We’re not asking you to get married yourself, Mr Hinterdorfer,’ Reshma commented, a hint of amusement in her expression as she obliviously made Sophie’s embarrassment complete.
‘Andreas, this could mean a way forward for Great Heart,’ Willard continued. ‘Perhaps the only way forward.’
Sophie stood, her spine thrumming with nerves. ‘Actually, I need to get back to Bath tonight. Perhaps we can arrange a call for next week.’ And in the meantime, she’d come up with an excuse for why she needed a different guide.
Andreas scraped his chair on the floor as he matched her stance. ‘Sophie,’ he said quietly, his emphasis on the wrong syllable sending memories ricocheting through her. ‘Come on.’ He made an irritatingly presumptive gesture for her to follow him and turned for the door.
‘What? Where?—?’
He tugged off his cap with a sigh, running a hand through his unruly hair and over his face. ‘If you don’t have much time, come with me and explain what you need. Maybe we can find another solution.’ Without checking to see if she was following, he swept back out of the door.
Go , Reshma mouthed at her. ‘This is why you came with me: to start planning your adventure wedding,’ she said in a low voice.
‘I really don’t think?—’
‘Go on, Sophie,’ Willard added. ‘You know he’ll bluster, but he’ll give you any help you need.’
Not wanting to explain her reluctance to Reshma, she followed Andreas into the reception area to find him pressing a kiss to Toni’s forehead. Sophie stopped short.
‘Let me know what else you need for Cilli’s birthday and I’ll see you later.’
Blinking, Sophie’s breath stalled as she faced the possibility that she had been right and not just vindictive when she’d suspected Andreas had cosied up with his best friend’s widow. Another woman, slim and energetic, with a bright-blue bob and not very much clothing for a February day, pulled him into a hug and he farewelled her with a very familiar squeeze to her elbow. Had every woman in this place fallen prey to Andreas’s careless charm?
When they broke apart, Sophie was surprised by the tingle of recognition. The blue hair was new, but that was Kira Watling. She’d been a trainee when Sophie had met her – far too young for Andreas. Kira gave Sophie a second look, but didn’t seem to recognise her.
‘Are you coming?’ Andreas had paused in the doorway, leaning heavily on the frame and tossing his keys from hand to hand.
‘If I have to,’ she mumbled.
* * *
Andreas didn’t know what he was doing. Scaring her off, maybe – hopefully. Regressing to the cabbage-headed idiot he’d been back when they were together. Whatever his murky motivations, ten minutes in the Land Rover next to him would surely be enough for her to lose all desire to work together.
On a wedding .
He slammed the sticky door on her, making her jump. After heaving closed the doors to the boot, he climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the key, hoping the old girl would start up cleanly.
‘Is this seriously the same old Land Rover?’
He nodded, twisting the key again when the engine merely coughed. ‘It works.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes,’ he ground out. ‘I drove back from Wales this morning.’
‘I noticed.’
He sneaked a glance at her. She was staring out of the windscreen, her arms crossed and a fancy buckled handbag on her lap.
‘So, you’re a wedding planner these days?’ he asked when the engine finally roared to life. He’d been aiming for casual, but felt certain the waver in his voice would have given him away. She wasn’t the same girl who’d learned to climb, pitched a tent cheerfully in the middle of nowhere and driven two hours several times a week just to see him .
Ouch, he caught himself for the patronising use of the word ‘girl’. She’d been a woman then – a young one – and she was definitely a woman now.
‘Yes,’ she answered defensively – which was fair, because his question had been so obviously barbed. ‘And you’re still in Weymouth.’
‘Some of the time,’ he said as he gritted his teeth to take the corner, braking and wrenching the wheel.
Sophie’s arms shot out and she grasped the handle inside the door to stop herself flying into him. The handbag tumbled into the footwell and she cursed under her breath, which was cute, because he heard every consonant.
‘You haven’t managed to fix the power steering in eight years?’
He frowned. ‘I forgot this thing even had power steering.’
‘What do you mean you’re here “some of the time”? Am I supposed to ask?’
‘Do whatever you like!’ he said, shoving the stick into fourth gear. ‘Don’t ask, if you don’t want to know.’
Her sigh bordered on a growl. ‘I didn’t think you’d still be here.’
‘I thought you needed my help with a wedding.’
‘I need a guide, but I didn’t come here for you. I honestly thought you’d be long gone from Weymouth.’ She mumbled something about K2 which made him want to provoke her into speaking more clearly.
‘I haven’t climbed K2 – yet,’ he grumbled.
‘Oh, um, commiserations that you still have all your toes?’ She was jiggling her foot in agitation.
‘I don’t,’ he commented lightly.
‘What?’
‘I don’t have all my toes.’
‘ Whaat? ’
He was childishly satisfied to have reduced her vocabulary to a single word. ‘I lost two on Gasherbrum.’ Flicking on the indicator, he threw the Land Rover around the next corner into his street, avoiding her gaze.
Did she even know what had happened after they’d said goodbye? She hadn’t kept in touch with anyone.
‘They didn’t say that in the news reports,’ she said faintly.
‘They were little ones, so I can still climb,’ he said casually as he heaved the car into a parallel park. It would be so much easier with power steering.
‘Hurray for that,’ she said under her breath. Sitting up suddenly, she asked, ‘Where are we?’
‘My place. You’re supposed to be squeezing me for information for a wedding – not that that makes any sense to me. But if you’re just here to chat old times?—’
‘Andreas, can you stop baiting me for a minute so I can think straight?’
He deserved the hit, but he wasn’t ready to let her off the hook. A thick strand of dark-blonde hair had come loose from her clip and he liked her more like that.
‘Where did all of this come from? Is it because it’s a leap year? You think of me every four years and this time, you realised I might be useful? At least you’ve stopped with the “Mr Hinterdorfer”.’
She turned to him, her eyes bright with indignation. ‘The reason I’m here has nothing to do with “us”. If I’d known I’d have to deal with you, I’d have?—’
‘What? Run in the other direction?’
‘I don’t know, but I’m not here to beg you for another chance or rehash what happened. Trust me, I’m the last person who wants to remember anything about back then. You don’t have to worry.’
He frowned, wondering why she thought he’d be worried about her begging to have him back. ‘So, it’s just a great coincidence that your company is buying my company? Or did you hear Will was doing badly and tip off your boss? Do you think Kira or any of the other guides are going to be happy about this? Weddings! Um Gottes Willen.’ He articulated the curse at the end through gritted teeth.
‘But it’s not your company, is it? It’s Willard’s. All I did was ask my boss if we could subcontract a company “like Great Heart Adventures” for a specific wedding I’m working on. That’s all. The rest is not my fault. I didn’t even know what she was planning until a month ago when the due diligence was completed. And it’s definitely not my fault that Reshma thought about consolidating the admin function, but she changed her mind anyway. Toni’s job is safe, so you can quit being a bear with a sore head.’
She reached for the handle to make her dramatic exit from the car, but the door stuck, leaving her pushing ineffectually at it, more curses on her tongue. Andreas had the satisfaction of slamming his own door before coming around to give hers a shove and then jimmy it open. The way she sucked in a breath of fresh air gave him a stab of guilt.
‘You don’t live at Miro and Toni’s place any more?’
He shook his head. ‘Toni had to move after…’
‘I was sorry to hear about that,’ she mumbled.
She hadn’t heard about it from him. She hadn’t been there when he’d arrived back at Heathrow, Miro in a box – obviously the wiser of the two of them.
He jingled his keys. ‘This place isn’t much,’ he warned her. ‘I don’t spend a lot of time here.’
‘I’m not the one who suggested we come here,’ she pointed out.
Wrenching open the boot, he hauled his backpack out, stifling a groan. ‘I need a shower.’
He thought she muttered, ‘You can say that again,’ under her breath as she stamped up the front steps after him.
The house was a 1930s terrace that had been split into four awkwardly shaped flats with only two bathrooms between them. The carpet in the entrance hall was grey and institutional and the facing on his particle-board front door was chipped. As heat stole up his neck, he hoped at least that she could now congratulate herself on her lucky escape from a long-term relationship with him .
He let her into the single small room and said, ‘Sit down,’ before he’d thought that through. The only place to sit was on the dark-blue duvet. By some miracle, he’d made the bed before leaving for Eyri. ‘I’ll be back in five minutes.’
Snatching a towel from the hook behind the door, he escaped in the direction of the bathroom, hearing the amusement in her voice as she called after him, ‘Take your time!’
Only when he was standing in the shower, his hands resting on the cold tiles with the water on full, streaming over his head and slowly stripping the dirt off him, did he realise he hadn’t thought to bring any clothes with him.