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Yet Pippa was right. She should be looking forward to spending time with such an attractive and charismatic guy. The gnawing sensation in her stomach was just nerves because her confidence in the field of romance had taken a battering. She had to believe that she was ready to move on unless she wanted to end up as a lonely old spinster and there was no way she was going to let Luke do that to her.
Anyway, what better time to dip her toe in the water than whilst away from the normal routine with someone she was unlikely to see again? Her date with Jake that evening was a great way to break the monotony of her celibacy. If she didn’t go for a drink with Jake, when would she get the chance to go on a date next? She never met anyone in London – she was always too busy at the patisserie.
Millie returned to her studio and decided to follow Fitz’s example and take a short siesta herself. When she woke, the men had left for the day and she only had an hour before she had to be at the Purple Parrot. She hopped in the shower and luxuriated in the cool cascade that reminded her of the waterfall she had visited the previous week with Zach. She styled her voluminous hair with coconut oil and even painted her fingernails – something she rarely did as a chef.
She drained the glass of Prosecco she had poured for Dutch courage and stepped into her peach-and-cream sundress – a new addition to her wardrobe courtesy of Lottie’s friend Anisha. She had also made her a beautiful necklace from tiny peach-and-cream shells and as she fastened it around her neck, Millie felt as though the whole of the Purple Parrot was involved in her date.
With a final glance in the mirror, she grabbed her bag and trotted down the stairs.
Jake wouldn’t stand her up – would he?
Chapter Sixteen
Millie locked the door of her studio and, out of habit, glanced across at the crates on the step, expecting them to be filled to the top – just as they had been when she returned from the villa earlier. In the split of a second, she not only noticed that the boxes were empty but caught a glimpse of a jeep’s red taillights disappearing around the end of the driveway. Without thinking she gave chase.
‘Hey! Hey! Stop!’
The jeep did not stop. If anything, the driver increased their speed. But it didn’t matter – she had recognised the vehicle. She shook her head as she made her way down the hill towards where a taxi waited to take her to the town and her rendezvous with Jake at the Purple Parrot, unable to believe what she had just seen.
Why was Dylan stealing Claudia’s cocoa pods? It didn’t make any sense. He ran a diving school, not a restaurant or a bar.
She hopped into the back of the cab and stared up at the sky. It was not the usual expanse of inky black dotted with an infinity of stars, but leaden, with steel-grey clouds pressing down on the twin peaks of the Pitons, their flanks soaring dark, high and foreboding. The wind had increased and, whilst she appreciated the fresh whisper of salty air flowing through the open windows, she sensed a storm was brewing out at sea. A shiver ran the length of her spine and she was grateful to duck into the welcome hospitality of the Purple Parrot.
Her preoccupation with the kitchen and her unease about Dylan had pushed any lingering nerves about her date from her mind, especially when she spotted Dylan drinking a beer at the bar with Ryan. Lottie leaned over the varnished top, hanging on his every word. Clearly her threat to move back home to the UK was on hold for the time being. Her hair rippled like burgundy wine down past her shoulders and she wore a gathered white linen, gypsy-style blouse and a pair of very short shorts.
Millie studied Dylan’s face in profile, searching his expression for an indication that he knew she had seen him at the villa. Nothing – just a wide-open, friendly smile. His Hawaiian shirt would have looked ridiculous anywhere else, but with his tousled hair, denim shorts and tanned forearms, he looked every inch the classic beach boy; attractive, happy and relaxed in his own skin. She could understand Lottie’s love for this man, but the question still remained – why on earth was he stealing Claudia’s cocoa pods?
She glanced around the veranda but there was no sign of Jake. Instead of joining Lottie and Dylan, she decided to grab a seat overlooking the beachfront. After a few minutes of waiting, a swirl of apprehension started to curl around her stomach. Would he come? Had he changed his mind about taking her out for dinner? She didn’t think she could stand the collective sympathy of the Purple Parrot if that were the case. She slid her mobile from her bag and glanced at the screen – no messages.
‘Want a drink while you wait?’ asked Andrew, holding up a glass, unable to meet her eyes.
Oh, God! thought Millie. Andrew knew that Jake wasn’t coming and that was why he’d brought a cocktail outside to her to soften the blow he was about to deliver. She glanced at the lacklustre attempt at a daiquiri he set on the table in front of her, minus the usual embellishment of a slice of lime or parrot-topped cocktail stick or sugared rim.
She offered him a nervous smile and saw from his face that he wore the stress of his financial difficulties heavily around his eyes and in the sag of his shoulders. It was a worrying time for many businesses that relied on the tourist dollar or pound or euro, and the Purple Parrot was no exception. Andrew turned his back without uttering an exchange and strode back to the kitchen.
‘Don’t mind him, Millie. He had a meeting at the bank yesterday,’ whispered Lottie, appearing at the table, her eyes trained on the door through which Andrew had disappeared. ‘The manager refused to extend his overdraft. Apparently, the restaurant’s been running on empty for the last year. There’s a chance he could lose the business. And one thing I do know is that he doesn’t want to go crawling back to the rain-splattered streets of Oldham.’
‘I can totally understand that! There’s no comparison.’
‘Not just that, though.’ Lottie checked Andrew was still safely ensconced in the kitchen. ‘He was made bankrupt before he came over here. His wife left him destitute after their divorce, he couldn’t pay his bills and his restaurant folded. So hecan’tgo back. He has to make the Purple Parrot work. Only, I’m not sure what his options are.’
Millie could see that Andrew O’Leary was one of those unfortunate people who couldn’t allow themselves to be happy and carried a mantle of melancholy throughout their lives – even when surrounded by paradise. To the casual onlooker, Andrew was living the dream – certainly owning a bar overlooking golden sands and the magnificence of the St Lucian Pitons was Millie’s dream. What a waste.
But wasn’t that exactly what she had been doing for the last six months? Yet another of life’s lessons was delivered with a sharp slap to her face.
‘Don’t tell him I said anything, but he’s been like a rampaging lion all day. He disappeared for an hour earlier without a word and when he got back it was obvious he’d been drinking – lots!’ Lottie cast a worried glance over her shoulder at the kitchen door.
‘I see our friend Jake’s not a man to impress his date with his timekeeping,’ said Dylan, arriving at the table and slotting his arm around Lottie’s shoulders, producing a wide grin.
‘Actually, perhaps it’s just as well. I think I’ll…’
‘Oh, no, Millie, you can’t bail yet. Jake’s always late for everything. He’ll be here. He promised. It’s just a drink, then maybe a meal, and a stroll along the beach in the moonlight, hand in hand…’
‘Don’t think that would be wise, Lot. There’s a tropical storm on its way – Category two. You’ve heard the warnings to stay indoors after ten p.m. Look, the wind’s already getting up.’ Dylan gestured towards the beach where the waves galloped across the dark surface of the water like a cavalry in full battle-mode.
‘Oh, okay… then perhaps you could go back to his place, hide out from the storm, listening to the rain cascade down the roof tiles as he encircles you in his strong, muscular arms, sheltering you from…’
‘Lottie, please shut up,’ Millie giggled, taking a gulp of her cocktail.
