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‘Love is the answer, Millie!’ Dylan laughed before his face grew more serious. ‘Just be careful, that’s all. Jake has a reputation with the ladies. You need to know he’s not in it for the long term.’
‘It’s just a drink, Dylan,’ Millie smiled, grateful for his concern, even more confused about his actions earlier before blurting, ‘Did you lend your jeep to anyone this evening, Dylan?’
‘Hey, Dylan. Can I borrow you for a minute?’ called Andrew, poking his nose around the kitchen door, his eyes bulging with tiredness, his bandana in need of a good wash and press.
‘Sure, Andy, I’ll be right there. Good luck, Millie. Enjoy your date. And remember about the storm. Make sure Jake gets you home safely. You don’t want to be climbing that hill alone in the rain.’
‘Love is the answer, he says!’ spluttered Lottie, putting a second cocktail in front of Millie who hadn’t realised she’d finished the first. This one had all the trimmings, and she relished the zing on her taste buds. ‘I wish he’d take his own advice.’
‘Millie! Millie! Sorry I’m late. A Red Stripe and whatever Millie is having please, Lottie.’
Jake’s appearance squashed all the intentions Millie had of reprimanding him for not being on time. He looked like a polished Greek Adonis. His black dress trousers fit him snugly around the buttocks, belted at his trim waist. His matching designer shirt was open at the neck to reveal just a hint of chest hair. And he smelled delicious. She inhaled the mixture of wood spice and cloves and an arrow of desire shot to her stomach and travelled southwards. His brown eyes smouldered and she melted.
‘You look gorgeous,’ said Jake, staring straight into her eyes when he spoke and leaning down to peck her on the cheek before taking the seat opposite her.
‘Thank you.’
A cauldron of emotions rushed through Millie’s veins as she anticipated the night ahead. Jake was handsome, confident in his own golden-tanned skin, and proved to be an attentive companion. She sipped on the daiquiri mixed by Lottie and stared at the churning sea delivering thick ribbons of froth to the beach whilst the moon played hide-and-seek with the heavy clouds scooting across the sky. Palm trees fringed the scene, bent so low under the strengthening wind that Millie thought they would touch the sand. The mats and napkins on the outdoor wooden tables flapped so vigorously that the diners abandoned their attempts of a romantic dinner à deux under the stars and retreated into the restaurant.
Jake went to order another round of drinks from the bar, speaking to Andrew instead of calling Lottie over to their table. She watched him cast his eyes over his shoulder to look at her and then continue in a sweep around the restaurant taking in everyone who was there. A squirm of annoyance writhed in her chest. Was he checking the room for his next conquest? But she chastised herself. Jake didn’t owe her anything. This was only a drink.
The rum scorched through Millie’s veins and the conversation flowed. It turned out that they had a great deal in common, liked the same films, even shared a love of rugby. Jake told her he had worked at the Purple Parrot since the previous summer season and before that at numerous bars in Antigua, Martinique and Jamaica. He also revealed that he had a connection with Andrew, a second cousin or something, Millie couldn’t remember as her attention was taken up by his chocolate-brown eyes and the proximity of his muscular body. The guy oozed charisma. Every time his hand brushed hers an electrical pulse shot through her veins.
The cocktails slipped down easily. She was enjoying herself immensely and when Jake suggested they go and eat she followed him out of the bar, a wide grin on her face, tripping over the kerb and forcing her to grab on to his arm. They walked hand in hand to a secluded backstreet restaurant filled to bursting with locals enjoying their evening out.
Jake ordered for them both, which Millie was a little surprised about, but she let it go. She was happy to try anything on offer in the rough-around-the-edges restaurant, complete with live band playing reggae tunes at full blast and a tantalizing aroma of roast chicken. As they waited for their starters to arrive, the conversation dried up and Millie realised that she was more than a little tipsy. She cast around for something to say and went with the first thing that came into her head.
‘How well do you know Dylan?’
‘Fairly well. Great guy.’ Jake sipped his beer, his eyes resting on hers.
‘It’s just, well, I’m not sure whether I should say anything…’
‘What’s the problem?’
‘I know it’s nothing really, but over the last week a stack of cocoa pods has been disappearing from the villa. At first I thought I was going crazy, but tonight I saw Dylan’s jeep speed away down the hill and another crate had been emptied.’
‘Did you actually see it was him? There’re a lot of jeeps around here, you know.’
‘I’m certain. I know the pods are worthless, but it’s strange, don’t you think? What would Dylan want with a few dozen cocoa pods? It’s not as though he’s into cooking!’
‘Have you said anything to him about it?’
‘No. I thought about it, but then you arrived and…’
‘I’m sure you must have been mistaken, Millie.’
‘Do you think I should mention it to Henri? He’s friends with Leon, the police sergeant in Soufrière.’
‘No, I wouldn’t do that. Those pods would have probably been left to rot, anyway. I’m sure Claudia doesn’t mind anyone helping themselves.’
‘But why wouldn’t he say what he was doing? Why did he speed away when he saw me? It doesn’t make any sense.’
Their meal arrived – red snapper stuffed with chopped spring onion and tomato salsa that had been doused with soy and ginger and wrapped in banana leaves, and another rum cocktail for Millie. She ate very little, giddy with the alcohol and Jake’s attentive company.
The humidity and reggae music swirled around her head, and she felt mellow and attractive under Jake’s gaze, as if he had cast a spell of enchantment over their evening. She was surprised to find that she craved his touch on her arm, on her neck, her cheek. The pounding of her heart, insistent on the continuance of these welcome emotions, blotted out all sense and prudence.
The music stopped and so did the conversation as a loud crack of thunder hurtled down from the sky. The gathering laughed and the chatter resumed as a second flash of lightning sliced through the open frontage of the restaurant.
