Chapter 14
Monday morning rolled around, and the sun announced its arrival with a blast of golden light just before five o’clock in the morning. I poured myself a cup of green tea and headed outside for a short break.
A scattering of clouds dotted the horizon, giving the sun plenty of targets at which to aim its morning rays at. The darkness was an impossible match against the golden beams, and gradually, the clouds morphed into shades of orange and yellow. The dark sea revealed itself more and more by the second, and soon, the sun cast a white stripe that divided the ocean in half.
It wasn’t long before people began to emerge. Joggers sprinted past with earbuds connecting them to their phones as they made the most of the cool morning air. Surfers dotted the water, eager to start the day with a morning wave. Young families and old couples strolled past like they had all the time in the world.
I loved this part of the day. Not only because it usually signified the end of my shift, but also because it showed that no matter what disasters life threw at me, every day could be the dawn of a new beginning.
Once I finished my tea, I went back inside, washed my teacup, and did a quick tidy of the staffroom as I awaited Needledick’s arrival. The start of his six-thirty shift came and went, as did seven o’clock.
The phone rang, and I forced sunshine into my voice to answer it. “Welcome to the Hot Horizon Hotel, this is Jane speaking.”
“Hello, Jane, it’s Richard Thompson here. Is John available?”
Richard? From the executive board?
“Oh, hello, Mr. Thompson. I’m sorry, but he hasn’t come in yet.”
“Really? Do you know why he’s late?”
The idea of covering for him flashed into my mind but just as quickly evaporated. “No, sir, he hasn’t called in late.”
“Hmmm. Well, when he comes?—”
The glass door slid open, and Needledick strolled through like he was walking into a funeral. “Oh, hang on a minute, here he is.” His hair was a mess, and his shirt wasn’t ironed. He looked as if he’d had a particularly bad night, and I suddenly felt sorry for him.
As he neared the counter, I held the phone toward him. “Mr. Thompson wants to talk to you.”
His face paled even more, and he sighed as he reached for the phone. “Hello, Mr. Thompson. I’m sorry I’m late, my mother?—”
He must’ve been cut off because he stopped talking, closed his eyes, and ran his hand over his forehead.
Averting my gaze, I bent down and collected my bag from the floor. There was no need for me to hang around, and I certainly didn’t want to be here when he ended the call. I tapped his shoulder, and when his eyes popped open, I waved at him and mouthed goodbye.
I strode to the elevator and hoped it would open immediately. It did, and I stepped in and jabbed the button for my floor.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Thompson.” John’s sorrowful words were cut off as the elevator doors closed.
I really did feel for him. It would be extremely difficult to juggle a full-time job with a sick family member. But he never asked for my help, he just expected me to cover for him. My stomach churned as I worried about what kind of trouble he’d be in.
But my worry was short-lived as my churning stomach turned to hunger pains, and I focused my attention on breakfast. I entered my apartment and went straight to the fridge, but once I opened it, I sighed at its sorry state of bareness. Annoying as it was, I couldn’t put off grocery shopping any longer.
I grabbed my bag again, and with thoughts of savory mince on toast and strong coffee crossing my mind, I headed out for breakfast. As I rode the elevator, I hoped like hell that John was still on the phone.
I stepped from the elevator onto the marble tiles and felt his dagger eyes immediately.
“You fucking bitch.”
I gasped, stopped in my tracks, and turned to him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.
“You trying to get me fired?”
I palmed my chest. “What? No.”
“You didn’t have to tell him I was late.”
I put my fists on my hips. “I wouldn’t have to tell him if you weren’t.”
“That’s not the point.”
“That’s exactly the point. You’re late nearly every single day.”
“Oh, and I suppose you told him that too.” His voice boomed about the marble expanse.
I stepped toward him and pointed my finger at him. “As a matter of fact, I did. Right after you told them, I was a prostitute named Memphis.”
His eyes bulged. His lips drew to a thin line. “I never?—”
“Don’t lie.” The anger in my voice surprised me, but the irony was I’d lied about Memphis, too. I clenched my jaw, and before either of us said another word, I spun on my heel, strode toward the sliding glass doors, and stepped outside.
The morning sun was no longer lovely. Its intensity burned my flesh, matching the inferno of anger blazing through my insides. I strode to Blue Haven Café, a woman on a mission. When I’d initially decided to come here for breakfast, I’d had visions of devouring a plate of savory mince on toast, but after that encounter, I needed a sweet fix instead.
I went to the cake counter and scanned every possibility before I made my decision. The New York baked cheesecake would both fill me up and satisfy my sugar craving. I ordered a double-shot skinny cappuccino to go with it and then strolled to my favorite table out the front.
As I watched the world go by, I replayed the conversation with Needledick through my head, and I knew there was no recovering from it now. Both of us had implicated each other to the executive board. Which one they believed was impossible to interpret. Although . . . this morning’s situation had supported my accusations.
My cake arrived, and I wasted no time in forking it into my mouth. It was thick, creamy, and sweet. Exactly what I needed.
My phone rang, and as I attempted to swallow the enormous mouthful I’d shoveled in, I fished it from my handbag. I frowned at the screen; the number was not one I recognized. My heart leaped to my throat as a horrifying thought flashed through my mind.
Is this Richard from the executive board. . . about to fire me?
My heart galloped as the phone rang over and over. I sucked in a deep breath, attempting to calm my racing nerves, and jabbed the green button.
“Hello.”
“Oh, hi, Memphis. It’s Hunter.”
I just about wept at the sound of his voice. “Hunter, oh my god. It’s so good to hear from you.”
“Really? Um okay.”
Oh, jeez, I must sound like a total desperado.
“Sorry, I thought it was going to be my boss.”
“Oh, is everything okay?” His concern was as soothing as a hug.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s nothing.”
“That’s good then. How have you been?”
“Much better now that I’m talking to you.” It was true; Hunter had me smiling again.
“Excellent. I’m heading up to the Gold Coast this weekend, and I was just wondering if you’d be there too?”
“Are you asking me on a date?” I reiterated his question from a couple of weeks ago.
“Touché.” He laughed, and I laughed along with him. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing.”
“In that case, I’d love to.”
“Perfect. I’m competing in an open-water swim at Mermaid Beach.”
“Wow, that’s exciting.”
“I hope so. I plan to win this one.”
“What time’s your race? Maybe I’ll come watch.”
“You would?”
“Sure, I’d love to.”
“I’d like that. Kickoff is at ten o’clock.”
He was so easy to talk to, and it was another twenty or so minutes before we said goodbye. I was glowing both inside and out by the time I hung up. I finished my treat, paid for my order, and strolled back to my hotel, determined not to ruin these wonderful feelings by engaging with Needledick again.
Fortunately, he was busy with a family with three young kids, and I made it to the elevator unscathed. I was exhausted by the time I rolled into bed. Visions of my sexy chocolatier filled my mind. I pictured him running up the beach in tiny swim trunks and glistening with sweat. His wet blond curls dancing about his face as if having a party. And his smile . . . hmmm.
It was a wonderful way to drift off to sleep.
The rest of the week was a game of cat and mouse as I made every attempt not to run into Needledick again. With each passing day it became more and more awkward, and I was soon entertaining the notion that come next year, I’d have to look for a new job.
The worst part about leaving was that I’d need to find a new apartment too. But I didn’t want to leave. I loved where I lived. My thoughts spun on a never-ending roundabout of reasons to stay and go.
By the time Saturday morning came around, I was looking forward to the distraction Hunter promised to give me. After my shift, I escaped Needledick’s death stares as quickly as possible and raced to my room.
An hour later, I dressed in a Memphis disguise that was suitable for a morning on the beach and headed downstairs, ready for Lolly to pick me up at quarter to nine. I dodged the Needledick bullet as he was busy with guests and stepped out into the blazing sunshine.
She drove into the Hot Horizon Hotel pick-up area with a squeal of tires and a just as loud squeal from her when I opened the passenger side door.
“Holy shit, babe, you look fucking hot. That blonde wig suits you.”
“Thanks.” I climbed in, shoved my bag to my feet, put my hat on my lap, and buckled up.
“This’s going to be so much fun.” She put the car into gear, and I was thrown back into my seat as she planted her foot on the accelerator.
“I hope we don’t miss the start.”
“We won’t.” Lolly accelerated through a yellow light, and I gripped the seat as the car bounced over the raised intersection.
Hunter’s race didn’t start until ten o’clock, however we needed time to park, and on the Gold Coast, that was always an issue. Then we had to find him, and from what I’d seen during my Google search of open-water swimming races, there were likely to be thousands of people there.
We raced through the morning traffic with Lolita constantly changing lanes to dodge the slow cars, and found a parking spot with forty minutes to spare. I pulled on my big floppy hat and sunglasses and stepped from the car. We grabbed our bags and dodged numerous cars to cross the road toward the beach.
As I’d suspected, there were thousands of people here. Marquees were lined up along the beach offering all sorts of treats and paraphernalia, and a fun festival atmosphere emanated from the crowd and the billowing flags.
The weather was perfect. . . blazing sunshine, late spring temperatures in the mid-twenties, and a light breeze drifting off the ocean. Together, Lolly and I pranced across the hot sand toward a large temporary gateway that we assumed was the start and finish line.
“Do you see him?” Lolita looked stunning. Her perky boobs filled out an intense sky-blue bikini with white string straps. She covered it with a tiny white sarong wrapped around her hips and wore white Havaianas with a couple of diamanté studs on her feet.
Lolita was a beach babe pin-up girl, and the heads that turned her way confirmed it. She had her hair up in a high ponytail, and it swished from side to side as she took in all the action around her.
“No, not yet.” As I glanced from one hot body to the next, I wondered if I’d even be able to see him. The contestants stood out because they all wore bright yellow bathing caps with numbers on them that matched the numbers painted on their arms and legs, but this only made finding Hunter more difficult.
Each competitor was practically a clone of the next, with toned, fit bodies and matching headwear.
We arrived near the starting line and looked for a place to sit. At Lolita’s insistence, I left her to set up and went in search of Hunter. There were thousands of people, and as the minutes ticked by, I feared I’d missed the opportunity to wish him luck before his race.
I hovered around the starting banner, flitting my glances from one fitness fanatic to the next, and finally, I saw him. His body was similar to every other male athlete’s—toned, tanned, and terrific. But it was his smile that set him apart. Hunter had an award-winning smile that captured me in so many ways.
I waved as I walked toward him. His already stunning smile became spectacular, and when he waved back, delightful butterflies danced across my stomach.
“You came.” He picked me up and I clutched my bag to my side and giggled as he twirled me around.
“Of course I did.”
He lowered me to my feet, and as he leaned toward me, I smelled suntan lotion and salt water. Our lips met for a brief kiss. It was too brief, and I already wanted more.
He entwined his fingers with mine and pointed out toward the ocean. “Have you been to one of these before?”
“No, never.”
“Okay. See those yellow buoys out there?” He leaned in so our cheeks touched.
I followed his outstretched finger. “Yes.”
“We start here, run into the water and swim out to that one, go around it, swim to that one, go around it, then swim back to shore. The first one to run under this banner wins.”
“Oooh, I hope it’s you.”
“Me too.” He cupped my cheeks and kissed me again. “Me too. Maybe you’ll be my lucky charm.” The dazzle in his eyes reflected the excitement on his face.
I tugged my lip into my mouth as I gazed up at my hunky chocolatier. There were so many facets to Hunter, and I was truly looking forward to discovering every one of them.
“Okay, I’ve gotta go. Wish me luck.”
I reached up onto my tippy-toes and kissed his cheek. “Good luck.”