Chapter 33 #2
I’m met with a half-smile. ‘The very same. It’s an incredible book, but Khalil’s a humble guy and never tells anyone about it. We’ve got a stack of them here.’ Xavier motions for me to follow him. We zigzag around the curved shelves.
When he locates the correct shelf, he pulls a copy out to show me. The cover is an illustrated sepia-toned view of the beach and rainforest, giving it the air of a historical tome.
I think back to the list Gus left for me and the name clicks into place.
I just hadn’t realised it was Khalil from the resort.
‘I’ll read it tonight.’ I check out the blurb on the back.
It’s a historical fiction novel about life on the island and a love that defied the odds.
‘This seems like the sort of book that would appeal to a broad range of people, locals and guests alike.’
‘Great. If you want to ask Khalil if he’s happy to do a talk, and he agrees, you can order more books directly from him.
I’d love it if we can support the guy.’ He takes another copy of Khalil’s book from the shelf and flips through it.
‘Reading this conjured so many memories of my father and his family. It’s a special book. It deserves more attention.’
‘I’m liking this softer side of you, Xavier.’
‘Do you always vocalise every thought that comes into your head?’
A spurt of laughter escapes. ‘Usually.’ From the shelf I pull the many copies of Where the Waves Keep Time to display on the front counter.
As I stand, they tumble from my hand so I do some lightning-fast juggling to prevent them from hitting the floor.
Xavier goes to catch them at the same time I do and we bang heads and the books tumble into a messy heap.
‘Sorry!’ I yelp, dropping to my knees on the parquetry to salvage the poor splayed books while Xavier bends and we bump heads again.
‘Wow,’ he says. ‘Let’s just take a minute.’
We laugh, each holding a hand to our foreheads as we lean against the shelves.
He’s so close I can smell his cologne and the lemony scent of washing powder.
For some inexplicable reason, it’s comforting.
We fall silent, the only sound the rhythm of my heart like a drum beat and the waves crashing outside.
I turn to face Xavier at the same time he does and find my lips a whisper away from his.
Our gazes lock and in his eyes I see desire; or is that my own desire reflected back?
This time there are no kids around to break the spell.
The air crackles with electricity and I act without thinking.
I press my lips against his, with this overwhelming need to kiss him, to feel his mouth on mine.
Fireworks explode inside as he deepens the kiss.
I’m breathless, powerless to stop the flood of longing until he abruptly pulls away.
His complexion flames. From the heat racing up my neck I’m sure mine is the same.
‘Sorry,’ he says.
‘For what?’
He smirks, amused. ‘Never change, will you?’
Is he giving me a compliment? ‘I wouldn’t even if I could.’
‘Let me know what you think of Khalil’s book.
’ Really? We’re going to pretend that kiss never happened?
The kind of kiss that made the world fade to black?
The kind of kiss that lit me up from the inside out?
I quickly recalibrate. This is a not a good idea.
I’m on a man ban, much like a book-buying ban, and sometimes just as difficult to stick to.
I rearrange my expression, trying to fight the haziness that lingers. Xavier’s eyes are still molten with want, but he’s doing his best to hide it by fidgeting with the fallen tomes.
‘I’ll get in touch with Khalil to see if he’d like to do the event.
’ I stand, dust off the seat of my denim cutoffs.
I can be business-like and efficient too.
‘Was there anything else?’ After all, Xavier had been the one who’d insisted on this early business meeting, so there must be something more important than Khalil’s book, which he could have discussed in front of Mariola and Joji yesterday.
My mind slips back to locking lips with the man mountain before me.
Isn’t it every bookworm’s dream to kiss a gorgeous man among the shelves like this – surrounded by novels, fictional couples cheering us silently between the pages?
Maybe those bumps to the head were a little harder than I’m giving them credit for.
‘No, that’s all.’
‘That’s all?’ I can’t help the incredulity that seeps out. ‘You couldn’t have said this to me yesterday?’
‘I wanted to see you.’
‘Why’s that?’ I attempt a flirty smile. Surely I’m halfway decent at the subtle art of flirtation since I’m a dedicated romance reader who has memorised all the tips and tricks by now.
He takes a moment too long to answer. ‘To show you the book, of course.’ He waves it, as if that’s all the proof he needs.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s just as conflicted as me as to why there’s this off-the-charts chemistry between us.
He’s the epitome of tall, dark and handsome, and if the books are to be believed, these kinds of suave, broody-eyed types are more likely to enjoy a non-committal fling, leaving the heroine heartbroken until the boy-next-door type turns up just in the nick of time.
Or… I could rewrite my own story and call Xavier out on this farce.
‘Do you often lie then?’
A ping of electricity crackles. His eyes darken, and he’s closing off, the way I’ve seen him do so many times already. Why can’t he just be honest? ‘What am I lying about, Harper?’ There’s the hint of challenge in his tone and I just can’t pass it up.
‘This so-called early business meeting could have been an email. You wanted to see me under the guise of work, but really you were planning that head-bump meet-cute. Am I wrong?’ Must we skirt around the issue at hand?
Won’t that just prolong all the awkwardness?
Or is this a tension-building thing, the push-pull of how real love works?
Real love! My brain is scrambled, electrons going haywire.
He lifts his brow as if he’s enjoying keeping me in suspense. ‘Meet-cute?’
‘Meet-cute, where Cupid himself is the puppet master and orchestrates the lovers literally running into each other so they take a moment to stop and lock eyes and see…’ Oh, this is so corny but it’s not when you read it in the books. ‘A person who makes their heart race…’
‘Do I make your heart race, Harper?’
I laugh. ‘Many things can make a heart race, a heart attack for example.’ Why am I now dancing around this? Perhaps he just reciprocated in the heat of the moment? Doubt plagues me because he abruptly ended the kiss. What was I thinking? This fool move cannot be undone.
‘That sounds… bad. It’s just this’ – he motions between us – ‘can’t happen because staff relationships are not permitted at the Last Chance Resort. Also, before you go and—’
I slap my forehead. ‘Oh my God, please tell me you’re not so controlling as to forbid staff relationships on an island with a population of only, like, two hundred—’
‘Three hundred.’
‘Three hundred people and you’re like, oh no absolutely no falling in love for you!
They might get lucky by dating someone outside of the resort, but probably not from what I’ve been told about the ageing population on Esperé.
They’re mostly retirees, because the younger generation leave the island to find work. What on earth possessed you?’
He sighs and scrubs his face. ‘Again, you’re making me out to be the bad guy when in fact it’s the opposite.’
‘You are forbidding people to fall in love, Xavier! LOVE. You can’t get much worse than that. That’s even worse than being a Grinch at Christmas. Your moral compass is… is broken. It’s pointing the wrong way!’
He frowns and then bursts out laughing. ‘It’s – what?’
‘You can’t tell people who they can and can’t love! What if you change the entire trajectory of their lives? This is one of those sliding doors moments – say I fall in love with, with, Michel…’
Anger flashes across his features. ‘Michel only loves himself. You should stay away from him.’
‘Ah – OK, Edward Cullen, sheesh. All I’m saying is, disasters happen when you play God.’
He shakes his head and bites down on his lip. ‘Play God? That’s a bit much.’
‘Is it?’ Disappointment floods me. ‘You won’t let real love bloom for other staff members. Why is that? What have you got against love? Who hurt you, Xavier?’ He lets out a volley of laughter as I glare at him so hard I’m sure steam comes out of my ears.
‘Sorry, sorry,’ he quickly adds. ‘It’s not that I don’t appreciate we live on a small island and people are bound to fall in love – it’s that when love doesn’t work out, and let’s be honest, there’s a good chance it won’t, picking up the pieces is never easy in a small environment where everyone gets involved.
For example, a few months ago Joji and Louise broke up… ’
‘Louise, the Louise who left to work on a cruise ship because she wanted to broaden her horizons?’
He tilts his head. ‘She left, not because she wanted to broaden her horizons but because she couldn’t stand to work alongside Joji every day.
The same Joji who quickly moved on with the sous chef from Seashells after their split and committed to the kind of PDAs that make a person blush.
Not nice for anyone, especially Louise.’
There’s a lot to process. First, that Joji actually committed to one person, and second, that the real reason Louise left was because of the petri dish environment and Joji prancing around with a new love interest. ‘Oh.’
‘Yes, oh. And then, before Louise had even left the island, Joji dumped the sous chef and she hightailed it from Esperé too, leaving us in the lurch, scrambling to find another chef which, as you can imagine, is not easy when those roles require someone with experience and Esperé isn’t exactly teeming with sous chefs just waiting for a call from me. ’
It’s interesting that these stories are painted in such different lights depending on which side is doing the telling.
And dammit, Xavier’s rules seem sensible once he explains his reasons.
I can’t keep painting him as the bully CEO at this rate.
‘You seem to know a lot about the love lives of your staff.’
‘Creepy, isn’t it?’
I laugh. ‘A little.’
‘I wish I didn’t. I’d much prefer to be kept out of it, but when staff come to me to hand in their notice in floods of tears, it’s inevitable that the whole sorry story gets shared.
And in Joji’s case, well, his customer service is what saves him.
I only wish he’d be a bit more careful with people’s hearts. ’
‘Ooh, you are an alpha male with a soft underbelly!’
Confusion dashes across his face. ‘I’m a what?
’ His phone beeps with a message. So much for island time; this guy is always on a schedule and there’s not much tranquillity about when his phone is beeping and flashing like it’s about to explode.
The joys of his job, I guess. ‘I have to take this. It’s – it’s important.
’ Great, he’s acting sketchy like it’s one of those calls from a friend, to get you out of a bad first date.
Why-oh-why did I act so impulsively? Blame the stupid CEO romance book I’m reading, where the heroine took the lead and made him answer to her every whim. Romance books should come with a warning: do not try this at home.
Xavier saunters briskly away, taking all the excitement with him. I scoop up the books, wondering what in the hell just happened and why my heart is still thrumming so hard against my chest.
I deposit the books on the counter and ease onto the stool and feel a flutter of sadness that there can be no workplace relationship all because of his rule, a rule that annoyingly makes a lot of sense.
I should be pleased. I don’t want to date!
He’s definitely not Mr Right, is he? Or is he?
Is this some surface lust, or something more?
It feels like more but then again I have suffered two consecutive head injuries so my judgement is not to be trusted at the minute.
My phone flashes, catching my attention. Lily.
Lily
Hello?! Don’t leave me on read! What do you make of the pic?
I try again to load the picture Lily sent and this time the internet works. It’s an AI image of woman with red curls, a big smile and a very smooth complexion.
I text Lily back:
Harper
Is this meant to be Tia? It’s clearly fake!
Her reply is instant.
Lily
Yes! Tia!