Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Zara
“S o, you said you were here for work. What kind of work do you do?”
Lunch has arrived, a wrap filled with fresh vegetables and a side of chips smothered in cheese sauce and dried onions. Jared recommended the chips, insisting they’ll change my life.
He has a burger with another side of the cheesy fries, and we both have cool drinks to guard against the encroaching heat.
We’re sitting outside a restaurant on the main street, an awning overhead keeping the worst of thesun at bay, but it’s still pretty warm.
A cat is curled nearby on the painted tiles, blinking jade-green eyes.
I wonder how to proceed. I haven’t had much casual sex, simply due to lack of opportunity.
However, the way Jared keeps looking at me, I feel as though I only have to say the word to take it to the next level.
But as soon as he mentions work, I tense up.
“I’m a personal assistant.” I pick up one of the chips and try it.
Jared watches me, his eyebrows raised, as I eat it.
“And…?” He nods towards the plate, his cheeky grin reappearing.
“Oh. Yes, life now irrevocably changed. Thanks for the recommendation.” I smile at him, wanting to get things back to the casual, flirty vibe. The chips are pretty good, actually. I pick up another.
“PA, huh? I hear that can be hard work.”
“I don’t imagine being a surf videographer is easy work either,” I reply once I can speak. “Though you have a much nicer office space.”
Jared laughs. “Yeah, it’s not too bad. I’m heading along the coast tonight, actually, going to try and get some nice sunset shots. The water is beautiful that time of day.”
“It’s beautiful all the time,” I say. “I really must go in for a dip before we go back.”
“You’re leaving?”
“Mmm,” I say, around a bite of my wrap. “In a couple of days. Back to Marrakech.”
“Ah, that’s a shame. You can’t come all this way and not get in the ocean, though. Even if you don’t want to surf, come out for a swim with me. I’ll look after you. The currents can be pretty rough if you don’t know what you’re doing. How about tomorrow?”
I shake my head. “Can’t tomorrow. This is my only day off.”
“Your boss is a hard taskmaster, hey?”
Again that prickle of unease. “He’s all right.” I try and change the subject. “How much longer are you staying for? Do you have much more footage to get?”
“Yeah, we’re trying to put together a compilation library, my friend and I. Doug, you met him the other day. He does the surfing, I make the videos. We do okay, but we’re keen to break into the big leagues.”
“The big leagues?”
“Yeah, you know, the WCT stuff.”
“The World Championship Tour?” I only know about this through working for Myles.
“Yeah. They have a small pool of photographers and videographers who work the circuit, and it’s tough to get inside. Doug’s a photographer, as well.”
“Mm, okay.” My chips are almost finished and I pick up my drink, taking a sip. “So how do you get in?”
“Well, your boss could probably help us.”
My heart sinks. I put my drink down, staring at him.
“Sorry.” He rubs the back of his neck with one hand. “Look, it’s not the only reason I’m talking to you. You’re a gorgeous girl. But I clocked Myles the first day you guys arrived, and I’ve been trying to get the chance to talk to him. You’re my best hope.”
I swallow. “Is that right?” I keep my voice level. “I don’t really know what I can do. Myles makes his own decisions about these things.”
“You could introduce us. Maybe tomorrow? We’ll be at the hotel for breakfast. I only need a few minutes of his time.”
“Maybe.” My nice lunch seems to have turned to ash in my mouth. “Speaking of time, though, I have to go.” My voice trembles a little. I pull my phone from my bag. “I have an… an appointment to get to.”
I get up and put money on the table, enough for both our lunches.
“Hey, Zara, don’t take it like that.” Jared looks up at me, his blue gaze beseeching. “Seriously. I really do like you. Let’s go swimming tomorrow. And I’ll get lunch.”
“No,” I say, putting my hand over the money. “My shout, remember? See you around.”
“Tomorrow morning?” he has the absolute nerve to call after me as I walk away.
I don’t reply.
I start walking back to the hotel, an ache in my chest. I need time to think.
I stop to get a bottle of water from one of the tiny grocery stores along the route.
Inside it’s shaded, shelves reaching to the ceiling piled high with a mix of British, American and Moroccan foods.
On impulse, I pick up a pack of chocolate biscuits.
Then add a second. I’m going to go back to the hotel, I decide, and I’m going to take my books and my biscuits and sit on my terrace and watch the ocean and read and figure out how I’m going to swear off men for the rest of my life, because honestly .
The young man at the till seems bored, scanning my items without looking at me, decanting them into a papery recycled shopping bag.
I pay, and take the bag. “ Shokran ,” I say. His face lights up.
“ Afwaan ,” he replies, his brown eyes twinkling. He is rather gorgeous, actually.
Okay. I’m not swearing off all men.
Just some men.
Just for now.
Once I’m back at the hotel I check my phone again, but there are no messages from Myles. On impulse I stop by his door, hesitating before knocking. He might need me for something, and not realise I’m back. It has nothing to do with the fact that I feel I need to see him. Nothing at all.
But there’s no answer.
He should be back from his meetings by now. My heart in my mouth, I hurry back up to the parking lot and heave a sigh of relief when I spot the black Mercedes. I go back down to his room and knock again, this time calling his name.
But there’s still no answer. I look out to sea.
There are a few surfers out there– perhaps he’s one of them.
I consider knocking one more time, then decide against it.
He’s given me the day off, after all, and I should make the most of it.
I head down to my apartment and, a short while later, I’m sitting on my terrace with a book, biscuits and tea, gazing out at the most beautiful view.
The sour feeling in my chest, remnants of my lunch with Jared, is mostly gone. But the longing to see Myles isn’t.
I jam a biscuit in my mouth and start to read.