Chapter 1
Evie
Take your career to the next level . . .
Evie stared at the screen. She definitely needed the next level because the current level wasn’t working out for her. An upscale
hotel in London known for its luxurious accommodation and impeccable customer service had a vacancy. She should apply.
London. Busy. Anonymous. She’d be able to walk down a street without everyone stopping her to catch up with gossip. No one
would notice or care if she arrived home early in the morning wearing the same clothes she’d left the house in the night before.
She wouldn’t be greeted by winks and knowing looks from the locals or asked for regular updates. She wouldn’t have to drive
to the next town to find a pharmacist who hadn’t known her since she was a baby. A fresh start. A new life.
A new job, where her colleagues wouldn’t include people who used to babysit her.
The team members beaming at her from the website seemed happy. Their careers were obviously going well. Unlike hers.
A big red button encouraged her to “apply here.” Her finger hovered for a moment and then she sat back with a sigh.
Why was she so indecisive? Why was she finding it impossible to make the decision when it was obviously the right thing to
do, particularly given the current situation?
Maybe she was having a crisis of confidence, which wasn’t surprising in the circumstances.
How was she going to sell herself? How did she gloss over the fact that the hotel where she’d worked since she’d graduated
was basically falling apart under her watch? Admittedly she’d only been in this role for a short time, but knowing that none
of this was her fault didn’t make her feel better.
She opened a document on her screen and started to draft a few lines.
“I am a passionate professional—no, that doesn’t sound right.” Evie deleted the words and tried again, staring at the words
on the screen. “I am an experienced hospitality professional—yes, that’s better—dedicated to delivering the highest standards of guest relations. I pride myself
on offering an unforgettable and curated experience to each—”
“Evie?”
Donna, one of the receptionists, appeared in the doorway and Evie slammed her laptop shut and picked up the cup of coffee
that had been growing cold on her desk.
“Hi. Everything okay?”
“Not really. I need to talk to you.” Donna leaned against the door-frame and grinned at her. “You should see your face! Picture
of guilt. What are you doing on that laptop of yours that’s so secretive? I hope it’s something that could get you arrested.
Your life is much too clean and wholesome.”
“Nothing.”
Preparing to apply for new jobs, because we’re all about to lose the one we currently have.
She felt a flash of guilt. Should she be sharing her fears with the staff? No. That wouldn’t be fair. They’d been through
enough lately what with Gerald, the general manager, being unwell and it wasn’t as if she had any real evidence to support
her fears. No one from head office had actually said they were going to be closed down or put up for sale. But it seemed the obvious path to her. The rest of the staff were carrying
on as normal, cheerfully oblivious to the economic realities of running a hotel.
And it was frustrating because she truly believed she could change things. She was brimming with ideas, but the way things
were currently it was impossible to put them into practice.
“Have you joined one of those dating sites?” Donna wasn’t easily deflected. “Because I said to Molly last week, I can’t remember
when our Evie last had sex with anyone. She should join one of those sites. But Molly pointed out that one of the disadvantages
of living in a small village is that you already know all the eligible men of the right age on account of having been born
here, and if you were going to get together with them it would already have happened. You need to spread your net a bit wider.
How would you feel about someone older? Edward Barnes is a nice man.”
“Edward Barnes?” Evie spilled coffee on her desk. “Are you talking about Mr Barnes the butcher? Mr Barnes who is retiring
next year? He’s more than thirty years older than me.” She snatched a bunch of tissues and soaked up the liquid before it
could do any damage.
“He’s seasoned, that’s true, and his hips are giving him problems but he has a gentle personality and he knows a nice piece
of sirloin when he sees it . . .” Donna’s voice trailed off and she laughed. “Just kidding. Sort of. Unless you—”
“Enough!” She’d never again be able to walk into the butcher and buy a decent steak. She’d have to order online for the rest of her life.
This whole exchange should make her feel better about being forced to move away from an area she’d lived in all her life and
loved. She’d be with people who hadn’t known her since birth. People who wouldn’t take such an active interest in her sex
life.
It might even be possible to have a sex life. Which would be a refreshing change.
So why was she feeling conflicted?
“I don’t have time for sex, Donna.”
“Are you listening to yourself? That’s tragic. And don’t tell me you don’t have time. There’s always your lunch hour. We could
cover for you while you have a quickie in the laundry room.”
“If you could say that a little louder, Donna—I think the kitchen staff possibly didn’t hear you.”
“Oh, I think they probably did.” The deep male voice came from the doorway, and she glanced up and met the laughing gaze of
Luca, her new head chef.
There was no point in wondering if he’d overheard, because clearly he had.
She didn’t know whether to kill Donna or bash her head on the desk.
“Luca.”
Recruiting Luca was one of the few things she’d done right recently, partly because he was an excellent chef, but also because
he was one of the few people working here who hadn’t known her since she was a baby. Until thirty seconds ago she’d had an
appropriately professional relationship with him, which had been a novelty.
Unfortunately, that professional relationship was now a thing of the past.
She’d never felt this embarrassed in her life, a feeling intensified by the fact he didn’t seem embarrassed at all. Judging from the smile on his face, he found the situation hilarious.
Or maybe it was the thought of someone wanting her badly enough to have a quickie against a stack of freshly laundered sheets
and towels that he found hilarious.
Either way, it was going to be a while until she could have a conversation with him without thinking of laundry cupboards.
Determined not to allow this to become awkward she looked him straight in the eye, trying not to think of him naked.
That part wasn’t easy because as well as producing sublime food, Luca was undoubtedly easy on the eye.
He was above average height and beneath the traditional chef whites his shoulders were wide and powerful. She didn’t know
whether his physique was the result of a serious gym habit or if he’d been lifting a lot of heavy pans. Maybe that was it.
Every time she tried to heave her cast iron casserole out of the oven she promised herself that she was going to start going
to the gym.
She gave what she hoped passed for a professional, detached smile. “Did you need something, Luca?”
Still laughing, he stepped forward and placed a file on her desk. “The new menu designs. I know which one I prefer, but I’d
like your opinion.”
Someone wanted her opinion. Someone actually thought she might have something to contribute.
The wilting shoots of her confidence sprang back to life.
“Great. I’ll take a look and let you know what I think.”
Donna frowned. “What’s wrong with the current menu design? Gerald approved it.”
Luca transferred his gaze from Evie to Donna. “We’re updating the restaurant. We’ll be offering a smaller, seasonal menu and
we need the design to reflect that. I’m sure Gerald would agree.”
Evie almost groaned. She could predict what was coming next. We’ve always done it this way . . .
Donna drew breath. “We’ve always—”
“Thank you, Donna,” Evie interrupted hastily. She didn’t want anyone stifling Luca’s creativity or he’d end up as exhausted
and disillusioned as she was. She patted the file and smiled at him. “I’ll take a look at this and get back to you. Great
job, Luca.”
“And I had some ideas for redesigning the restaurant. We’re not making the most of the views.”
“Agreed. Let’s arrange a time to talk about that.”
She waited until he left the room and closed her eyes. “He heard you. This is terrible.”
“Terrible? It’s not terrible,” Donna said, “it’s brilliant. Luca! Why didn’t we think of him? We need to add him to our list.
True, he’s changing things that don’t need changing which isn’t great, but he is the hottest guy we’ve had around here in
a long time. And talking of hot, your cheeks are flaming. I could fry an egg on them.”
“Thanks to you, I already have egg on my face. I don’t need more. And what is this list you’re talking about?”
“The list of potential men you could date. We spent an hour on it last night when we were in the Smuggler’s Inn.”
Evie was appalled. “You were discussing my sex life in the pub? What if the people at the next table heard you?”
“Funny you should say that because they did. It was Anthony and Jeff. They were out celebrating the fourth anniversary of
the gallery, but they happily joined in.”
“Joined in?”
“We had quite a large group on it in the end. The more the merrier, I always say.”
“Oh well, that’s great then. Maybe you could have opened it up to the whole pub. Fixing my love life is more entertaining than quiz night, I’m sure.” This was why she should be applying for that job. “Don’t you have more important things to talk about?”
“More important than you? No. We all care about you.”
“Well, that’s nice, obviously, but I can handle my own romantic life, and right now dating is not a priority. And I’m especially
not dating someone I work with.”