Chapter 1 #2
‘Pieces landing in the right person’s hands takes weeks of networking,’ he’d crowed, making excuses for why he was always out late at night, but people came back time and time again for her beautiful designs.
Most of their customers thought Blake was the designer because he was the public face of the company – and he didn’t disabuse them of that notion.
To them she was the boho partner in her glamorous one-off pieces that her grandmother had designed and her love of vintage.
Maya glanced down at her current attire of an A-line skirt that sat a few inches above her knees and looked like it had been scattered with flowers as the print was of regal purple dahlias, the contrasting pink and white petals of cosmos and flowering sage on a white woven background.
Above that she had a cute little white short-sleeved shirt she’d tied at her waist and a pretty little nasturtium flower brooch, with its wide petals and splashes of colour at its centre.
She’d taken a second look at her coffee stained outfit of a lace top and jeans earlier, and decided to make a bit more of an effort, as you never knew who you might bump into in this town it seemed, she smiled to herself.
Not that she was ever likely to stumble across Noah Benedict again and she was definitely not attracted to sexy rogues any more.
She’d learned that lesson the hard way and her heart carried the scars.
Blake clearly preferred sleek blondes like Portia.
Portia had been wearing an incredibly expensive 18-carat diamond necklace Maya had designed and nothing else.
Maya had looked at them both and felt like the air had been sucked out of her lungs.
Portia had gasped and grabbed the bloody diamond necklace – as if Maya was about to rip it from her throat – and then darted to the bathroom to lock herself in.
Maya hadn’t smashed anything, nor screamed accusations at Blake.
She’d just let the bottom fall out of her world while Blake scrabbled around to find his jeans and trademark white tee.
Then she’d turned on her heel and run, tears streaming down her face, heart smashed into a million tiny pieces.
She’d swept up the few personal items from her desk, leaving everything else behind. Unfortunately that included a folder of her designs for their forthcoming, much-anticipated collection.
For a long time after the breakup Maya had hidden herself away at her grandparents’ house where she’d grown up with her siblings and dissolved into all-too-frequent tears at the world and the injustice of loving a man who didn’t value her.
Maya had barely left the house, her family tip-toeing around her and whispering in corners in hushed tones.
She’d hardly been able to eat because she felt that the affair must have been her fault; she wasn’t attentive enough, talented enough, sexy enough, clever enough.
Maya had never been short on admiring looks from men, but Blake had chipped away at the way she dressed and behaved until she’d been reduced to being grateful that he loved her.
She wouldn’t put herself through the pain of a broken heart again.
Slowly, with the help of her family and her best friend Leah, she’d begun to heal.
Being close to the water, riverside plants and the wildlife they attracted, like the ever-darting dragonflies and busy bees, had helped and she’d started designing again.
Smaller jewellery at first and then bolder and more intricate pieces that were inspired by the shapes and forms of the flowers she discovered growing by the river.
Maya rested her elbows on the rail as she watched the world pass by and a couple of fish darted along in the frothy white ripples that Bertha created in the water.
As the boat steamed along, Maya wished her troubles would wash away with the breeze and she could truly start again.
Leah had popped round the night before and tentatively suggested that she consider dating again.
The friends had met a couple of years previously, but to Maya, it felt like they’d known each other their whole lives and she didn’t know how she’d survived without a confidante and cheerleader like Leah before that.
‘No thanks,’ Maya had replied as she reached into the fridge for a second chilled bottle of sauvignon blanc.
‘But…’ Leah had begun, but Maya had given her one of those stares that told her to shut up and drink her wine.
This conversation seemed a recurrent theme with her friends and family these days.
Her grandparents constantly tried to match-make her with the grandsons of friends or neighbours.
Dodging the topic was becoming an art form. No way, she wasn’t ready.
It had taken everything she had to pick herself up again and she’d spent the last two years building up a new jewellery brand that was hers and hers alone – No.1 Ethereal Lane.
She’d worked from her workroom in her house by the river, sketching new ideas while helping Joe and on Bertha , and now her brand was being noticed.
A particular piece, an exquisite cluster of white-gold bell-shaped comfrey flowers with shimmering emerald-winged stalks and curved silver leaves, had just gone viral, the collection selling out immediately.
Post after post appeared on social media about the collection and the press were now on the trail of the mysterious designer behind the brand, because no one seemed to know who that was.
Had it been Blake’s marketing wizardry that had propelled them to the level of success their business had reached last time, or was it her designs that customers fell in love with and were clamouring to buy?
Joe beckoned her over with a wave and Maya slid her sketching pencils and sketch pad back into her canvas tote bag, leaving it tucked under the bench by her feet so no one could trip over it. ‘How are the birthday girls getting along?’ he asked, inclining his head to the women who were currently leaning over the guard rails to look at the fluffy-downed cygnets that were paddling at the side of the river.
Maya bit her lip in mirth. ‘They’ve been nattering about how to get the attention of our gorgeous captain to persuade him to go off course,’ she teased. Joe laughed. Customers often flirted with Joe as he was so handsome. He looked like a dashing pirate and certain female clientele seemed to think he came with the boat and was there for the picking! Joe would shake his head and roll his eyes with good humour.
Maya moved over to nudge hips with Roman as he stood at the guard rail by the port side of the boat and he grinned and nudged her back. They enjoyed flirty banter with each other, but although Roman was gorgeous, he still occasionally dated his extremely fiery and vocal ex-girlfriend from the next town and getting thrown into the middle of an argument was the last thing Maya needed. Roman’s angular cheekbones and cheeky smile often got schoolgirl giggles from their female customers and he enjoyed every moment, she knew. ‘It’s quiet again today,’ Maya noted, glancing around at the almost clear decks.
Roman winced and shrugged. ‘I know. The worry lines on Joe’s face can’t get any deeper!’ he tried to joke as they both glanced at Joe, who was standing by the huge black paddle wheel. Maya put her arm around Roman’s shoulders and gave him a squeeze of comfort. ‘Olive needs her hip op and Joe can’t afford to stay at home and help her. We don’t have enough passengers as it is.’
‘I agree. Olive’s been hobbling around their bungalow for months.’ Maya sighed and tears sprung to her eyes. ‘He’s so stubborn.’ Joe’s wife, Olive, needed him at home, but the business required him to be on board. Maya helped as much as she could, serving drinks from Joe’s collection of mismatched glassware and checking tickets. It wasn’t enough. ‘We must come up with a plan to help,’ she added and Roman hugged her back before moving away. ‘Let me know if you think of anything.’
She watched Roman walk towards Joe and noticed that his shoulders were sagging in defeat. If Bertha was dry docked, she might not make it back into the water – and both Joe and Roman would lose their livelihood.
The boat drew up near Noah’s waterfront pad and Maya leaned over the guard rail and breathed in the fresh river air, closing her eyes for a quiet moment of contemplation as the breeze touched her face. Noah’s sleek black power boat was moored by the wide raised wooden jetty to the front of his property, so he’d made it back alive! She thought of those piercing blue eyes and the way they’d briefly settled on her dark brown ones and then shook the image away.
Working on the deck of a boat might be unusual for some, but it suited her.
After all, she could work pretty much anywhere that inspired her.
Maya sat cross-legged on the bow and considered Joe’s options, which were limited.
As she watched the riverbank glide past, she sighed when she saw a young couple strolling along with a frolicking dog, smiling as they held each other’s hands.
That had been her once.
She took her phone out of her bag, glancing despondently at the screen.
She was sure that her ex, Blake, would have loads of inspired ideas about how to help Joe.
He’d texted her constantly when they split up, but there had been over a year of silence now.
She swiped open an old text and flinched, waiting for the pain they usually brought.
She needed to permanently delete them and move on, but she’d kept one or two and she didn’t really know why.
It was as if she couldn’t quite let go of the last strands of their relationship, which was ridiculous because she’d definitely moved on.
Maya almost snarled at the phone and the woman sitting next to her frowned and turned her way.
‘Are you okay, dear?’ she asked, patting Maya’s hand.
‘Sorry!’ Maya shivered, wishing she’d brought a jumper as the wind was picking up as they neared the halfway point of the cruise and her hair kept flying in her face. ‘Old message from my ex,’ she explained, grimacing and not wanting to explain further. The face of the woman next to her hardened and she urged her to take a fork and a mouthful of the remaining squashed cake, which Maya gratefully accepted.
‘Delete it,’ she advised sagely. ‘This will help,’ the woman insisted, patting her hand in solidarity. The cake was deliciously chocolaty, which immediately restored Maya’s good spirits and filled the air with the indulgent scent of earthy cocoa and sweet vanilla. She shook her head at the offer of a tipple of vodka, but was sorely tempted. She shoved the phone firmly back into her bag and knew she wouldn’t receive another text. Other than that one time… Blake had always been predictable. She had nothing to offer him now and he always had his eye on the prize.
Maya sat back to let the sun that peeked through the clouds for a minute or two warm her face, then pulled her sketchpad back out of her bag. She began sketching the common reeds that were swaying in the wind and the oval leaves and beautifully scented, spiky-looking flowers of the water mint on the river bank as they sailed slowly by.
She was building something new after feeling like she’d been without an anchor for the past two years. Her heart was finally healing and being back home with the inspiration of the river and all its surrounding natural beauty was inspiring her creativity. Her new-found success would annoy the hell out of Blake. Suddenly – unexpectedly – she was taking over the world of high-end jewellery design again, this time with no one knowing her name. People were beginning to know her brand, No.1 Ethereal Lane, but the designer behind the intricately cut designs was unknown and she intended to keep it that way.