Trouble on Her Doorstep (7 page)

Strange how he was still standing in the same spot five minutes later, watching the space where she had last stood. Waiting. Just in case he could catch a glimpse of her again.

The prettiest woman in the room.

And a very, very tantalising distraction.

Sean breathed out slowly through his nose and turned away.

Before Sasha, the old Sean would have already flown in his lady and made dinner reservations, or drinks that would stretch out into the evening with a long, slow languorous seduction as a nightcap.

But now? Now long-term relationships were for men who stayed longer in one place than a few days or weeks at most. Men who were willing to commit fully to one woman and mean it.

His gaze flicked up to the place where Dee had just been and lingered there longer than it should have.

They were different people in so many ways, yet there was something about Dee that made him want to know her better. A lot better.

He would love to have the luxury of being able to take personal time in London, but that was impossible if he wanted to get his job done before leaving for Paris. Even if that temptation came in the shape of a tea-mad beauty who was different from any other girl that he had met for a long time.

A cluster of older men in suits burst into the reception area, blasting away his idle thoughts in a powerful rush of financial chatter and cold air.

Sean gave a low cough and straightened his back as he nodded to the guests.

Nothing had changed. The work had to come first.

He owed it to his father and the family who were relying on him to get things back on track. There was no way that he could let them down. Not now. Not ever.

Not after all that his father had done for him. For all of them.

Sean looked up at the screensaver on the computer:
The Beresford Riverside. A Beresford Family Hotel.

There it was. The Beresford family. His rock when things had collapsed around him when his mother had been taken ill. His rock when his father had remarried but kept the children together, making sure that they all felt loved and cherished.

His family was all he had. And he was not going to let them down.

Dee was a lovely girl and a new client. He had been friendly and gone beyond the call of duty. The last thing either of them needed was a long-distance relationship which was bound to end in heartbreak and tears—at both ends of the telephone. From now on he had to keep his guard.

His family had to come first.

It was time to get back to work.

SIX

Tea, glorious tea. A celebration of teas from around the world.

You can’t have a cup of tea without something to go with it: from tiny fairy cakes and English
cucumber-and-salmon sandwiches to seafood accompanied by warm green tea in Japan. Tea and food are perfect partners.

From
Flynn’s Phantasmagoria of Tea

Wednesday

Dee gave Prakash
a quick finger-wave and then stood on tiptoe and peered over the top of the frosted glass barrier which separated guests from hotel staff.

Sean was sitting in exactly the same position as she had left him well over an hour ago. A plate with the remains of a sandwich sat next to his keyboard, an empty coffee cup on the other.

‘You missed a great meal,’ she said, but Sean’s focus did not waver from the computer monitor. ‘In fact, I am officially impressed. So much so, that I have just come to a momentous decision.’

He flashed her a quick glance, eyebrows high. And those blue eyes seemed backlit with cobalt and silver. Jewel-bright.

‘Okay, Mr B. You win,’ Dee whispered in a high musical voice. ‘You have pulled out the big guns and wowed me with the most fantastic hotel that I have ever stepped into in my entire life. And the conference suite is light, airy and opens out onto the gorgeous grounds. I am powerless to resist.’

Dee lifted her head and pushed out her chest so that she could make the formal pronouncement with the maximum splendour. ‘I accept your offer. The Beresford Riverside
is
going to be the new home of the annual London Tea Festival. Congratulations.’

Then she chuckled and gave a little shoulder dance. ‘It is actually happening. I can’t wait. Can
not
wait. Just can’t. Because this festival is going to be so mega, and everyone is going to have the best time.’ Then she clasped her fingers around the top of the barrier and dropped her chin onto the back of her hands so that Sean’s desk was practically illuminated by the power of her beaming grin.

Sean replied by sitting back in his swivel chair and peering at her with one side of his mouth twisted up into a smirk. ‘Let me guess—Prakash introduced you to the famous Beresford dessert buffet in the atrium restaurant.’

‘He did.’ Dee grinned then blinked. ‘And it is spectacular. But how did you know that?’

He shook his head then pointed the flat of his hand towards her and pulled the trigger with his thumb before sliding forwards again. ‘The last time I saw someone so high on sugar and artificial colours was at my sister Annika’s fourth birthday party. And I know that you don’t drink coffee, so it can’t be a caffeine rush. How many of the desserts did you sample?’

Dee pushed out her lower lip. ‘It seemed rude not to have a morsel of all of them. And they are so good. Lottie would be in heaven here. In fact, I might insist that she comes back with me and tries them all for research purposes.’

‘Better give me some warning in advance so I can tell the dessert chef to work some overtime,’ Sean muttered.

Then he stood up and stretched out his hand over the top of the glass. ‘Welcome to the Beresford Riverside, Miss Flynn. We are delighted to have your custom.’

Dee took Sean’s hand and gave it a single, firm shake. ‘Mega.’ She smiled and clutched onto the edge of the conference brochure tight with both hands. ‘Righty. Now the room is sorted, we can get started on the rest of the organization.’

‘Don’t worry about that,’ Sean replied and walked around to her side of the barrier. He reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket, pulled out a business card and held it out towards her. ‘Prakash will make sure that you have a great event. I wish you the very best of luck, Dee. If there is anything else you need, please get in touch.’

Dee glanced at the business card, then up into Sean’s face, then back at the card.

And just like that, the joyous emotional rush of finding this fabulous venue and knowing that her fears had been unfounded was swept away in one spectacular avalanche that left her bereft and mourning the loss.

This was it.

She was being dismissed. Passed off. Discarded.

So that was how it worked? She’d been given the personal attention and star treatment by one of the Beresford family for just as long as it took to get her booking sorted out. Then she was back in line with all of the other hotel guests. Business as usual. Fuss and bother all sorted out.

She was being discarded as not important enough to invest any more time on.

Just as her parents had been.

She had been forced to stand back and watch her parents lose their tea gardens when the money had run out and the powers that be had refused to wait until the tea could be harvested and sold before pulling the plug.

A one-family tea-growing business had not been a priority customer. Not worth their time. Not worth their money. Not worth spending time to get to know who they were and how they had invested everything they had in that tea garden.

She had been a teenager back then and struggling to cope with the relentless exhaustion of training in a professional kitchen after she’d left catering college, powerless to do anything to help the people she loved most.

Her parents had come through it. They had survived. But their dreams had been shattered and scattered to the winds.

Well, history was definitely not going to repeat itself when it came to her life.

Nope. Not going to happen. Not when she was around.

What made it even worse was that it was Sean who was giving her the big brush-off. What had happened to the man who’d been happy to give her a cuddle only a few hours ago after listening to her life story? Now that same Sean was only too willing to pass her off onto an underling to deal with, so that he could get rid of her and get back to his real job.

No doubt there was some terribly important business meeting that required his attention and he could not possibly waste any more time with the simple matter of a conference booking.

It was such a shame. Because, standing there in his fitted suit, pristine shirt and those cheekbones—lord, those cheekbones—he looked delicious enough to eat with a spoon and a dollop of ice-cream on the side.

Shame or no shame, she recognized the signs only too well. And if he thought for one second that he could get rid of her that easily, he was badly mistaken.

‘Oh no,’ Dee said in a loud voice which echoed around the reception area, making several of the men in suits glance in their direction. ‘Big misunderstanding. I obviously have not made myself clear. No business card; I am not going down that route.’

Then she tilted her head slightly to one side and shrugged before carrying on in a low, more intimate voice, confident that she now had his full attention.

‘You screwed up. Big time. So now I have to reprint all of my promotional materials and contact loads of exhibitors to let them know about the new venue. Posters, flyers, postcards to tea merchants and tea fanatics. All have to be done again. Then I have to go back to all of the tea shops and online tea clubs with the new details with only a week or so to go. That’s a lot of work to get through, and I have a full-time job at Lottie’s.’

She pressed her lips together and shook her head. ‘Prakash is a pal, but he does not have the level of authority to spend the cash and resources to make all of those things happen and happen fast. It seems to me to point one way. I am going to need that five-star Beresford service from the man at the top.’

Dee fluttered her eyelashes at his shocked face and there was a certain glint in those blue eyes that was definitely more grey than azure. ‘You are not off the hook yet, Mr B. In fact, I would say that this is only the start of the project. Now, here is an idea. Shall we talk though the next steps on the way back to your office? You must be very excited about this opportunity to demonstrate your commitment to customer service. And there is an added bonus: we will be working together even longer! Now, isn’t that exciting?’

* * *

Sean shrugged into his coat and double-checked the long string of emails before popping his smart phone into his pocket. Apparently the Beresford hotels around the world did not have anything so urgent that he needed to jump on a plane and take off at a minute’s notice. So, no excuse. He glanced back towards the conference centre.

Dee was still talking to the scariest office manager in the company, and from the laughter coming out of her office they were getting on like a house on fire.

It was first time he had ever heard Madge laugh.

Almost six feet tall and built like a professional rugby player, his very well-paid, über-efficient and organized manager terrorised the reception areas on a daily basis, ruthlessly checking every guest bill, and even his brother Rob had been known to hide when he heard that Madge was chasing up his expenses.

This was turning out to be one hell of a day of firsts and it was not over yet.

Of course, he had tried to convince Dee that he was already committed to making her event a success.

Sean had introduced Dee to three of the full-time conference organizers who took care of event management, and both of the office admin ladies who provided the VIP business concierge service. They had demonstrated their fax and photocopying equipment; their digital scanners and super-fast laser colour printers; their spreadsheets and floor plans; their menu cards and delegate stationery.

And Dee had smiled, thanked them for their time, promised each of them free tea samples and refused to budge one inch.

In fact, if anything the list of items she had written out in her spidery handwriting on the conference pad she had snatched from his desk was getting longer and longer by the minute.

Madge would sort it out, he had no doubt about that, and he had already asked her to make it her top priority.

But there was no getting away from the fact that Dee Flynn was not a girl who gave up easily.

Sean chuckled low in his throat and shook his head. He could not help but admire her for having the strength to stand up and demand what she believed he owed her.

Problem was, from everything he had seen so far, she had no intention of making his life any easier. At all.

In any way.

Because, every time he looked up and saw her with Prakash or one of the team, his brain automatically retuned to the sound of her musical voice and the way she jiggled her shoulders when she got excited. Which was often.

And when those mesmerising eyes turned his way?

Knockout.

Of course, Dee was not the only reason he found it difficult to settle at the Riverside.

It was always strange coming back to this hotel where he had found out the hard way that washing frying pans and loading dishwashers in a kitchen that could serve four hundred hot meals was not for wimps.

Rob’s fault, of course. From the very moment that his older half-brother Rob had announced that he wanted to follow his passion and learn to cook professionally, their father had insisted that he should learn his trade from the bottom up, starting in the hotel kitchens and going to the local catering college. No free rides. No special favours or dispensations from the award-winning chefs the Beresford hotels employed, who had learnt their trade through the classic apprentice system, working their way through gruelling long hours at kitchens run by serious taskmasters.

If that was what his eldest son and heir truly wanted to do, then their father had said he would support Rob all the way. But he was going to have to prove it in a baptism of fire. And, where Rob had gone, his little brother Sean had wanted to follow.

Somewhere in the London house their father had a photograph of Rob in his kitchen whites, standing at a huge stainless-steel sink sharpening a knife on a steel, with his brother Sean at his side scrubbing out a pan as though his life depended on it. Rob could not have been more than nineteen at the time, but he looked so deadly serious. Skinny, unshaven and intense. There were only a few years between them in age but sometimes it felt a lot more.

They had both come a long way since then. A very long way.

The sound of a woman’s laugh rang out from the office and his body automatically turned as Dee and Madge strolled down the corridor together.

Now, there was a killer team. Dee was probably five feet and a few inches tall in her boots, but looked tiny compared to Madge, who towered above her in smart heels.

Amazing. Madge even smiled at him after shaking Dee’s hand and waving her off as though they were best pals who had known one another for years.

Dee seemed to accept this sort of miraculous behaviour as completely normal, and a few minutes later she had found her jacket and they were outside the hotel and heading for the taxi rank.

Only, before the doorman could hail a black cab, Dee rested her hand on Sean’s coat sleeve and asked, ‘Do you mind if we walk? The rain has stopped, the sun is coming out and I am so busy in the tea rooms I just know that I’ll be cooped up for the rest of the day.’

Sean made a point of checking his wristwatch. ‘Only if we go a different route this time. I make it a rule not to go the same way twice if I can avoid it.’

‘Fair enough,’ Dee replied, shuffling deeper into her jacket. ‘And, since you’re my tour guide, I shall rely on you completely.’

‘You didn’t give me a lot of choice,’ he muttered, but she heard him well enough.

‘You can stop pretending that you are put out by my outrageous request for personal attention. You love it! And I love your hotel. It is gorgeous. Lucky girl; that’s me.’

Sean nodded. ‘You were very lucky to find the two-day slot you wanted at this much notice. That is certainly true.’ He gestured to a side street and they turned away from the busy street down a two-way road lined with stately white-painted Regency houses. ‘But, as a matter of interest, what was your back-up plan in case of some emergency? Your Plan B?’

Dee chuckled and shook her head. ‘I didn’t have one. There is no Plan B. No rescue mission. No back door. No get-out clause. No security exit.’