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‘Is everything okay, Lottie?’ Zach asked, catching Millie’s eye and raising his eyebrows when Lottie slammed her elbows onto the table like a petulant toddler, cupping her chin in her palms.
‘No, it’s not. Actually, I’m thinking of going home.’
‘What? To Anisha’s?’
‘Not to Anisha’s,’ she snapped, thumping her beer bottle on the table, casting her hundredth glance in the direction of Dylan’s Dive Shack where Dylan and Ryan were still laughing and jostling with the two young holidaymakers.
‘Ah,’ said Zach, understanding immediately.
Lottie flashed him a scowl, challenging him to vocalise her distress, but Zach wasn’t stupid enough to attempt to charter those turbulent waters. He, and everyone else at the Purple Parrot who cared to study Lottie’s behaviour, knew the only reason Lottie had stayed on in St Lucia was Dylan. She had learned to dive, learned to sail theNigella, and joined him and Ryan – whenever her shifts allowed – at beach parties, barbeques, and charity events. She followed him everywhere.
Lottie let out a ragged sigh. ‘I’ve spoken to Andy. I’m going back to Cardiff. I told him there’s no point in me sticking around here. I’m obviously wasting my time.’
‘What did Andy say?’ asked Zach.
‘What do you think he said? It’s one of his busiest times of the year. Obviously he can’t rely on Jake – he’s useless. He’s never on time, always messes up the orders and he doesn’t just flirt with the customers, if you get my drift. I told Andy that he should dock his wages every time he’s late, but he doesn’t want to lose him. Oh, and the restaurant is struggling, too.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, you know…’ Lottie twisted in her seat, staring at the empty bottle in her hand as if wondering where its contents had disappeared to. ‘With the recession and everything. Takings are down, expenses are up. There’s also been a spate of thefts from the bar over the last few months; a few bottles of rum, a mobile phone or a wallet someone left unattended while they went to the restroom, that sort of thing, which he’s worried about but refuses to go to the police about for fear of damaging the Parrot’s reputation.’
Lottie sighed and tossed her hair over her shoulder. Millie marvelled at the fact that Dylan could possibly have failed to notice her beauty. Fresh, youthful skin tinted to a pale honey hue, a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and the cutest chin.
‘How’s Anisha?’ asked Zach. ‘What will she do with the studio if you leave?’
‘I don’t know, but things are the same at her shop. Takings are down there. too. Tourists are still buying her sarongs and bikinis, but the local souvenirs aren’t shifting. Even sales of Travis’s gorgeous artwork and carvings have been slow this year. She’s also had a few issues with thefts; money’s been taken from her till, but unlike Andy, shehasreported it to the police. Oh, and, for what it’s worth, Anisha agrees with me. Men are just not worth the effort.’
‘No progress with Leon then?’
‘No. I’ve told her she should move on, too.’ Lottie turned to Millie. ‘Do you have someone special back home?’
‘No, there’s no one special. I’ve just come out of a long-term relationship, so no dates since... well, since April.’
Lottie’s face brightened as she scooted to the edge of her rattan chair and shot a mischievous look at Zach. Millie sent up a swift prayer to her guardian angel that Lottie wasn’t about to suggest she consider dating him. She would have died of embarrassment. ‘Well, we’ll just have to put an end to that run of luck, won’t we?’
‘Hang on, Lottie, I…’
‘Just a date. I’m not suggesting you rush off and get engaged.’
Clearly Lottie’s earlier despondency about all things love- and romance-related had floated from her mind on the wings of Cupid. Millie looked across to Zach for his support, but he simply shrugged and leaned back in his chair ready to enjoy the show.
‘No, thanks, Lottie. I’m only over here to supervise the kitchen renovations for the Paradise Cookery School. And Ella and I will be spending all our time triple-testing the chocolate recipes for the first classes as well as devising menus for the guests.’
‘But you won’t be working on the menus in the evenings, will you? Mm, but who…?’ She twisted her lips, her chin still resting in her palm as she stared out into the bay. Millie could almost see the cogs rotating.
‘Hey, what time do you call this, Jake!’ They heard Andrew’s sharp tone slice through the humid air from behind the bar.
‘Chill, man,’ came the reply. ‘It’s only six o’clock.’
‘Yes, and your shift starts at five. Lottie’s had to cover for you again.’
‘Lottie doesn’t mind. She loves being here. It gives her an excuse to moon after our resident surfer dude.’
‘Table five need their bill.’ Andrew had clearly decided not to push it. Having just had the conversation with Lottie about going home, he probably didn’t want to risk losing two members of staff in one day.
Millie turned her head as Jake appeared on the veranda, stretching his muscular arms over his head as he took in the view of the ocean. Her heart did a somersault and her eyes widened as she took the opportunity to survey him at close quarters. Standing six foot two in his boat shoes, Jake had biceps as firm as his stomach muscles, which were just visible as his white designer tee-shirt rode up his abdomen. He had the looks of a matinee idol from the 1950s. His hair, black as tar, had been carefully gelled into a perfect quiff at his forehead and his come-to-bed eyes drew Millie’s attention immediately, sending spasms of desire through her veins.
Unfortunately, Zach had noticed her reaction. She saw him smirk, causing a flush of heat to flood into her face which, coupled with the warmth of the sun blazing overhead, she knew was not a good look. Beetroot was definitely not the new shade of facial foundation.
