Tempest Tossed: A Love Unexpected Novel (20 page)

Chapter 6—Dylan

My father did not stand. Nor did he come from behind the horseshoe shaped defense of his humongous desk.

“Dylan. You’re looking remarkably well considering your recent ordeal.”

There was one chair centered in front of him at the apex of the desk. It was way too far out to suit my purposes. I shoved it toward him. It was awkward maneuvering with the crutches. “As you can see, these things have their limitations.” I propped the crutches against his desk, purposely invading his little fortress with them. “I appreciate your taking the time to see me.”

“You didn’t really give me a choice, did you? You were pretty clear on your ‘terms’ as well.” He sat up even straighter. His dark suit blended into the rich leather and made him seem bigger than he actually was. “I’m a bit confused as to why you were so adamant about meeting in my office. I hardly think that having lunch with my only son would strike you as nefarious.”

“Look, Dad, I don’t want to spar with you. I wanted to have you to myself. No distractions.”

“Very well. I’m all yours.”

The moment of truth had come. I fought the little boy who wanted to run from the room. But it was damn hard to keep the memory of his cold shadow at bay. It was impossible to forget how desperately I wanted him to throw me a scrap of affection or approval for most of my life.

“I want you to know that I appreciate you giving me El Loco to care for. And I appreciate your financial support.” I stalled, hesitated and like the raptor that he was, he spotted it.

“But it isn’t enough?”

“That’s right, it isn’t.”

“How much more money do you want?” He sighed and opened the top drawer of his desk as if he was going to stroke me a check.

“Stop. I don’t want money. That’s not what I’m here for. I want to work.”

“Work?” He snorted a condescending little laugh. “What kind of work can you possibly feel you’re qualified to do?”

Nothing ever changes. I was still a weak, worthless little kid in his eyes incapable of offering the great Jackson Cruz anything of value.

“You saw to it that I got a fine education. You may recall that I graduated cum laude from your very own alma mater. Your name may have helped get me in, but I earned those grades and a quite well regarded business degree.”

“Do you want a loan to start a business?”

“No, Dad, I want to work for you.”

This time he laughed out loud. “You don’t know a thing about the hotel business. You’ve never so much as expressed the slightest interest in it.”

“How was I supposed to express an interest? I never got the chance!”

“So, now, at the ripe old age of twenty-eight you want me to magically create an executive position for you to occupy your time?”

“No. I don’t want you to create anything. But surely there is someplace in your vast empire that a young man with a business degree could start.”

“Dylan, do you have any idea what I pay my entry-level managers?”

“No and it doesn’t matter. I’m willing to start at the bottom.”

“It costs me several times more to keep you on El Loco than you’d make sitting at a desk in this company. Your status as an eligible playboy would instantly disappear.”

“I don’t want to be an eligible playboy. I never did.”

“Been a hard life, has it?” He propped his elbows on the desk and tented his fingers in front of him.

“Did I say it’s been hard? Well, it hasn’t. It’s been a cake walk. And I’ve had fun. But I’m ready to move on. I would think you’d be at least a little bit pleased that I want to grow up.”

“I admit I’m pleasantly surprised. I have to warn you, though, I think you’ll find the life of a hotelier quite dull after cruising the world, fishing the high seas and bedding long-legged blondes.”

“I’m tired of the games.”

“And your spunky little chef? That’s not a game?”

That threw me. I wasn’t prepared to discuss Rene, especially give the state of confusion our relationship was in. “Rene knows more about me than anyone alive, including you.”

“I see.”

“But if you don’t mind, I’d like to focus on the job situation right now.”

“Very well. I’ll accommodate you. You’ll need to give me a couple days to look for something suitable. It could be anywhere, you know. We have hotels on every continent.”

“Except Antarctica I hope.”

I’d forgotten how good it felt to make my father laugh. It had happened so rarely.

“Except Antarctica. And we’ve no plans to open one there any time soon. I may be able to offer you several choices, but once you’ve made your decision you’re on your own. It will be common knowledge that you’re my son, but you’d better not count on that meaning much if you screw up.”

I was flabbergasted at how well it was going. “I won’t screw up.”

“If you do, I’ll let you go back to the boat or somewhere else.”

“Why would you want to say something like that? Don’t set me up for failure.”

“I’m just too aware of the odds against you.”

“I’m not as broken as you think. Stop treating me as if I’m still a fragile little kid.”

He looked at me hard. He seemed to be trying to look deeply inside my head to see what was still broken there. “You have your mother’s eyes,” he said sadly.

I winced. “I know.”

He stood up. The meeting was painfully over. My mother’s eyes remained too much for either of us to bear. “I’ll be in touch. Leave Miss Whipley any contact information I don’t already have.”

I deliberately lightened the mood. I wanted to leave on something other than the melancholy note of Francesca’s memory. “Dad? About Miss Whipley. She doesn’t quite seem a match for your office.”

He shook his head and chuckled. “Miss Whipley is unfortunately very efficient. She is also a temp who’s filling in for my usual assistant who bears a remarkable resemblance to Helen Mirren.”

“Much more your style, for sure.”

“Thank goodness a gall stone isn’t likely to keep Mrs. Sheffield down for long. I’m getting quite tired of watching that fashion disaster paraded through my door every day. It’s been embarrassing, to say the least.”

“She’s quite polite. She offered me ‘sumphin’ to drink.”

“Do you think she’s a natural redhead?”

“She all but offered to let me find out.” That earned me another laugh as we said our good-byes. He surprised me by taking my hand and shaking it warmly.

I left with a lighter step—limp—than I had when I came in. Maybe there was hope for the old man and me after all.

My next step was Rene. I’d given her time to think. If my anger had faded, maybe her doubt had too. Besides, things were different now. I was going to have a real job and I’d make it into a future. There are plenty of places for a chef to work in a big hotel.

I knew I wanted her in my world and I felt that I had something to offer her now that was more substantial than just being a dilettante on a generous allowance. Sure it was going to be a modest start but I never thought Rene was particularly money motivated. One of the things that I liked best about her was that, in she had chosen a path to suit her passion and forged a promising career with it. She wasn’t about hooking up with some dude who was going to ‘take care of her’. She lived a real life. I hoped that there was a chance for us to share that real life.

She was sitting at the very front of the boat with her knees pulled up to her chest, the billowy skirt of a yellow sundress pulled over her legs. Her arms were wrapped around her calves; a little ball of perfect female perched on El Loco’s bow. She didn’t notice me approach from the side because she was staring straight ahead, mesmerized by something in the distant city. The slight breeze lifted strands of her hair and they twinkled like honey-colored tinsel in the afternoon sun.

I wished that I wasn’t on crutches. I would have preferred to steal up behind her and catch her off guard. Under the circumstances, I settled for making it on board and into my cabin unseen.

On my way I caught Angelo and asked him to bring a bottle of champagne from the cooler and a couple of glasses to my room and then ask the chef to come to my stateroom. By the time she knocked I was seated on one of the chairs, sipping on the wine and trying to look casual.

“Come on in,” I told her.

I got a breathless rush of pure relief when she bounded over to me and threw her arms around my neck.

“Dylan, I am so sorry for how I acted. So very sorry. It was heartless, selfish and I feel terrible. You didn’t deserve that.”

“No, I don’t think I did.” It didn’t seem possible that her eyes could get any bigger, softer or more compelling. I wanted to lock into her gaze and stay there. “I will admit I overreacted. I could have given you time.”

“Can you forgive me?”

“I already have.” My arms circled her and I pulled her even closer to my chest. I wanted to feel the beat of her heart and assure myself that she was back in my embrace. “Can you live with ‘complicated’?”

“Oh, Dylan,” she said as she nuzzled into my neck. Her warm breath was a salve potent enough to heal almost any wound. Suddenly, she pulled away from me. “
What
are you wearing? Did you get that outfit just to see your dad? Oh, God. Your dad.” She slid the ottoman closer to the chair and parked herself at my knees. “Tell me what happened.”

“He’s got this ridiculous assistant . . . receptionist . . . whatever you want to call her. Her hair matches the burgundy leather sofas.”

This netted me a blank stare.

“She was flirting with me. I think it may have been the suit.” I put my thumbs under the lapels and preened. “Pretty awesome, don’t you think?”

“What are you talking about?”

“My new suit. I think the wine-haired chick dug it.”

“Your father, Dylan. What about your father?”

“He didn’t mention it.”

“Mention what?”

“The suit.”

“We’re not talking about a suit!”

“But we are. You asked me first.” I was enjoying the tease. “Oh, you’d rather hear about my father?”

“Yes.”

“He has an impressive office. Turns out the ditzy receptionist was a temp. He told me his regular assistant looks like Helen Mirren.” I tilted my chin to the side as if I was contemplating something quite profound. “I think Helen Mirren is very elegant, attractive and remarkable for her age." I said finally.

Rene reached her hand over to the knee on my uninjured leg and did an astounding job of squeezing my kneecap between her thumb and middle finger until I yelped from the pain.

“Red heads? Suits? Helen Mirren? You’re going to wind up with two bad legs if you don’t cut to the chase.”

“You’ve got very strong hands. Is that from all that chopping?” Her response was to apply even more pressure. “Okay, okay, stop the torture. The meeting actually went well.”

“Tell me!”

“I told Dad that I was tired of being nothing more than a well-paid caretaker for this bucket. At first he thought I wanted more money. But when I told him that much as I love the sea and I love this boat, it was time for me to grow up and take some responsibility he actually agreed to help me.”

“Dylan, that’s wonderful!”

“He’s going to look around and find me a position in one of his hotels. Don’t know where yet.”

“I’m so happy for you,” she said but I heard a note of sadness behind her words.

“Something wrong?”

Chapter 7—Rene

I shook off the uncertainty. It wasn’t the right time to cast shadows on Dylan’s happiness. Taking a serious tone and having a ‘what about us’ discussion could wait. I owed him a little celebration. Truthfully, I already knew the ‘what about us’ and I didn’t want to face it. I wanted just a little bit more of Dylan Cruz before we sailed off in different directions. No, I wanted a lot more.

“There is
absolutely
something wrong!” I smiled at him and rose from the footstool. “There’s only one person in this room with a glass of wine.”

Walking over to the side table gave me a chance not to look at him. I poured the bubbly into the other flute slowly. By the time I had filled my glass I had the balance of my composure back. I returned with a brave smile him and clinked my glass against his. This could be my shot at an Oscar.
Act happy
, I told myself.

“Here’s to your new job and your new life!” I walked around behind his chair and leaned over his shoulder to whisper in his ear. “So . . . what do you have in mind as a celebration?’

He brought me around to face him and pulled me toward him. His kiss was all I wanted. His eyes beckoned me to lean closer and I breathed in the soft warm air he exhaled with a sigh. He barely brushed my mouth with his at first, just tenderly swept his perfect mouth against my own. The moist tip of his tongue played at my lips as they parted to welcome him.

It seemed an eternity since we’d touched even though it had only been a short few days. But for both of us I think the separation had been painful beyond its length. I hadn’t known if he cared enough to forgive me my cowardly doubts. He hadn’t known that I was even sorry.

We locked our hungry mouths together. He tasted like champagne and went to my head much faster than bubbles.

Dylan put his arms around me and held me close to his chest. We sat there for a few moments and I listened to the sound of his heart against my ear. I couldn’t deny that the sound was precious to me. I tugged on his tie, further loosening the knot he’d already relaxed. It was a beautiful silk confection, but it was in the way. Maybe later we could put it to better use. I smiled at the thought.

“That smile is pure mischief,” he murmured.

“That’s because I’ve got mischief on my mind,” I purred back at him.