The Bridal Bargain. Emma Darcy
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job. Living up to Tony King’s standard of excellence was a scary prospect. She was going to have to learn fast, even faster than he walked.
The jeep was parked next to the helipad. Hannah was used to the small bubble helicopters that transported guests at King’s Eden Wilderness Resort. The one Tony King flew was a very sleek machine in comparison. Big money. Big money everywhere she looked. Could a million-dollar-man fall in love with a cook?
Her mind fuzzed with the thought of happy miracles. She shot him her best smile as he opened the passenger door of the jeep for her. Unhappily he didn’t see it. His gaze seemed to be trained on watching her legs swing in before shutting the door again, and he frowned all the way around to the driver’s side.
Business worries? she wondered. It was probably a bit forward to ask, so she held her tongue as they rode down to the marina. He maintained a grim-faced silence until they reached the Kingtripper office where he handed her over to the receptionist with an efficiency that left Hannah feeling somewhat deflated.
“Sally, this is Hannah O’Neill,” he said with almost curt haste. “She will be our new chef on Duchess.”
“Hey! That’s great! Congratulations!”
Hannah didn’t even get time to reply.
“Supply her with a uniform, give her all the information about our cruises, and let me know when the crew comes in. I need to catch up on the latest figures.”
“Will do,” Sally more or less said to his back as he headed towards a door that opened to a private office. His abrupt manner hadn’t dimmed her brightness. She had a pretty, vivacious face, a very short bob of dark brown hair, and blue eyes that danced lively curiosity at Hannah as she aimed a grin at her. “Welcome onboard the Kingtripper line.”
“Thanks.” Hannah grinned back, then nodded to the now closed door, whispering, “Does he always move this fast?”
“Well, the chef situation is getting fairly urgent with Chris all upset about Johnny leaving,” Sally confided.
“Who’s Johnny?”
“His partner. Who threw an ultimatum at him last week and took off to Sydney. Follow him or else.” A roll of the eyes. “Chris would be better off without Johnny, if you ask me, but I guess gay relationships are just as demanding as any other.” She grimaced. “I took this job as therapy after divorcing my over-bearing husband. What about you?”
“Me?” Hannah’s mind was still buzzing through all these new bits of information.
“Well, you’re obviously a stranger in town since you didn’t know about King’s Castle. Are you escaping from something?”
“More looking around,” Hannah said blithely, realising Sally was a gossipy person and it paid to be wary of giving out too much before she knew the lay of the land. Besides which, the ex-love of her life had receded into the far distance since she had met Tony King. She could almost wish Jodie well of Flynn. Almost.
She pasted a smile over the niggling sense of betrayal and elaborated on her carefree theme. “I wanted to get work here and stay awhile. It’s a beautiful part of Australia.”
“Sure is,” came the ready agreement. “And the perfect base for bouncing off to other great places. Have you got accommodation?”
“Yes. All fixed up.” A strong sense of discretion told her to keep quiet on that front, too, so she rushed on, “What I need now is all the info on Duchess and…”
“A set of uniforms,” Sally said obligingly. “Come on. I’ll fit you out and feed you facts.”
They only had ten minutes before Duchess glided in to dock at the marina. They watched it from the double glass doors that opened out to the promenade deck. Even to Hannah who’d seen many expensive boats in Fremantle, it looked fabulous; a sleek, stylish, black and white catamaran that exuded power and luxury.
“By far the best,” Sally said proudly. “Only launched last year. Air-conditioned saloon and bridge, the most up-to-date entertainment systems, walk-in easy water access for diving or snorkelling, and for you, a fully equipped galley, including an espresso coffee machine and a dishwasher.” She gave Hannah a droll look. “No plastic plates on Duchess. It’s all top class.”
Hannah nodded, observing the stream of day-trippers emerging onto the wharf—the clothes they wore, the bags they carried, all classy casual gear. These were moneyed people who paid for the best and expected it as their right. They looked happy and satisfied, which meant the five-star service had not fallen short today.
She took a deep breath, refiring her determination to ensure her service didn’t fall short of the standard Tony King wanted maintained. The strong need to please him—more, to delight him—went far beyond what she should feel for her employer, but there was no point in trying to deny he’d put a new zing in her life. She got an electric charge just bringing his image to mind.
“Does…uh…Mr King ever go out on Duchess?” she couldn’t stop herself from asking.
“Oh, yes! He skippers it most Saturdays and Sundays. And also when it’s chartered by a special party. We’ve had a few celebrities with their entourage wanting Duchess to themselves for a day. Tony likes to take personal care of VIPs. He’s a terrific host, and of course, they spread the word to their friends. Best publicity we can get.”
Tony… Sally spoke the name so familiarly, Hannah reasoned it must be okay to use it in front of the staff. It was silly to suddenly feel awkward about it. It had felt right when they’d been at the castle. He just seemed to have distanced himself from her since they’d left his grandmother. But she was probably being over-sensitive where he was concerned, not wanting to put any foot wrong.
Today was Wednesday. She had two days to learn all the ropes, practise her cooking and have everything down pat before he came on board. Tomorrow she would bring a notebook with her and jot down everything Chris did, everything she had to know about the galley and how it worked. Once the overall routine was fixed in her mind, she could add her own special touches, show Tony he’d really got a prize in his new chef. Then he’d give her that heart-buzzing smile and…
“Crew’s coming off now,” Sally announced, jolting Hannah back to the immediate situation. “Eric and Tracy and Jai do the diving. They’re the first three. Next comes Chris and his assistant, Megan, then the skipper, David, and the first mate, Keith.”
Five men, two women, all of them young and looking very fit and full of vigour. Soon to be four men and three women, Hannah thought. She saw Chris—hair very peroxide blonde—hurrying past the others, an urgent intensity driving him as he headed for the office.
“I’d better get Tony,” Sally muttered, and made a dash for his door.
He emerged just as Chris bounded in, clearly pumped up with his personal problems, his frown lifting as he saw Tony. “Did you get someone?” he burst out, so intent on his own needs he didn’t even give Hannah a cursory glance.
“Calm down, Chris.” The strong, authoritative voice warned the chef he was out of line. “You have just walked past the person I’ve hired as your replacement.”
“Sorry, sorry…” He spun to face Hannah, relief breaking a smile through his anxiety. “Hi!”
“Hi!” she returned with smile inviting fellowship.
“This is Hannah O’Neill,” Tony introduced. “Chris Walton, who’ll show you precisely what’s expected of the chef on Duchess over the next two days.”
Which jerked Chris’s head back to Tony. “Do I have to? Can’t Hannah…?”
“No.” Very firm. “You stay till the end of the week. As agreed, Chris.”
“But Megan could show her everything.”
“It’s your responsibility.” The grey eyes were very steely as he added. “Don’t let me down, Chris.”