‘Things didn’t quite work out the way I’d planned. What do you mean when you say your father recovered “in a manner of speaking”?’
‘He recovered but has not been himself since that episode.’ Abe hesitated and Georgie knew that he was uncomfortable with sharing anything private about himself.
‘If you feel embarrassed answering, then please don’t bother.’ Her head was beginning to throb and she rubbed her temples. ‘I wouldn’t want to put you on the spot by asking you for any personal information about yourself,’ she said somewhat sarcastically.
‘He has retreated from public service,’ Abe said abruptly. ‘Hence the urgency of my departure four years ago. I am his successor and it fell to me to take over the running of my country while he recovered. I had no idea that my role would become a permanent one, as it has. My father has decided, in defiance of everything the doctors have told him, that his life is effectively over. He has always been very energetic but he has lost his ebullience. He is no longer the man he used to be and that saddens me.’ He shrugged awkwardly. ‘That’s of no account. It is what it is. My point is that I had to leave immediately and I knew things would have come to an end for us eventually anyway.’
‘I have to go,’ she muttered.
‘This conversation needs some kind of conclusion. And you’re working here...you still haven’t told me what happened.’
She shrugged and averted her eyes. She wished she could close them and pretend that none of this was happening.
‘This hotel? It’s been failing for some time, am I right? How is it...? Your plans... I don’t quite understand.’
Georgie reddened because somehow that felt like a personal slight. She wanted to tell him that it wasn’t her fault. She surreptitiously glanced at the faded elegance of the bedroom. Scratch beneath the surface and signs of dilapidation were all too visible, and she suspected Abe would have done a lot of scratching below the surface before he decided to sink money into the purchase.
‘What were you doing in Ibiza in the first place?’ she suddenly asked, and she noted the discomfort on his face as he lowered his eyes briefly, lush dark lashes concealing his expression.
‘I was buying a hotel to add to my collection,’ he admitted without bothering to dress it up. ‘In fact, we met by chance and because of you I ended up staying three weeks longer than I had originally planned.’
‘Should I take that as a compliment?’ Georgie asked acidly, but even as the words left her mouth she knew that bitterness wasn’t going to get her anywhere. ‘Forget that. In answer to your question about the hotel: yes. Things have been rocky for over a year. Longer. It seems that no one is really interested in a hotel that’s small and charming, not when they can go to somewhere bigger and better equipped, never mind the fact that this hotel was home to the Bloomsbury set years and years ago. You’ll fix everything here and paint over the character that no one is interested in and you’ll get bookings by the dozen, I’m sure.’ Then she offered a stiff smile. ‘I apologise. I suppose I shouldn’t be saying stuff like that considering you’re now my boss.’
Under any other circumstances, that very fact would have already kick-started thoughts about handing in her resignation, but she knew that once he left the country he would not return, whatever the circumstances. He had left once without a backward glance. He would leave again.
‘You may not have realised this, but I have saved your boss the unappealing prospect of having to let staff go. I have looked at the accounts of this place in some depth.’ He paused and looked at her steadily and Georgie could feel those dark eyes boring into the very core of her. She was desperate to tear her gaze away but she couldn’t and she licked her lips as nervous tension built.
She hadn’t realised that Duncan had been planning redundancies but, of course, what choice would he have had? The place had been running on less than half full practically since she had started working there.
‘I know how much you are paid. G Curtis—Head Chef. Had I known your surname I might have twigged.’
‘You know how much I earn? That...that’s none of your business!’
‘Of course it is. Everything about the finances of this hotel became my business the second I decided to throw money at it. I know how much you started on here, which was a deplorably small amount, and I know that since then you have had all of two pay rises as you worked your way up the culinary ladder. You had big dreams when I knew you, Georgie. How have you ended up working for pennies in a place like this? Yes, it’s charming but, when it comes to career paths, surely you must have known for some time that you were facing a dead end?’
‘I...’ Her face was burning. She thought about those dreams he had mentioned, the career illustrating children’s books she had hoped for... She’d always known it would be tough to start with, but she’d made some connections before...everything had happened. She’d known the road she had mapped out and the one she had ended up going down, working as a chef, had never been on the map.
She felt ashamed and then was angry for feeling ashamed because being a chef was very creative and fulfilling. As Plan Bs went, it could have been a lot worse. Her thoughts were settling into some kind of order now. Perhaps the intense shock had begun tapering off. Perhaps horror had been replaced with a sweeping sense of the inevitable or maybe, deep down, she had always known that sooner or later those conversations she had visited in her head would actually happen because the guy who had broken her heart and stolen her faith in love would return like a storm sweeping in from the sea—a tempest blowing away everything in its path.
She could see the guarded curiosity on his face and resented it.It was okay for some...
‘No need to explain but...’ he hesitated ‘...I would really like to find out about why you have ended up working here. No, more than that... I want to explain in greater depth, Georgie...why I left the way I did. We all are faced with choices. I would like to explain mine.’
‘There’s no need,’ she muttered sullenly.
‘Let me buy you dinner.’ He smiled faintly. ‘You’re thinner than I remember. You look as though you need feeding up. Wasn’t Italian your favourite choice of cuisine? Pasta carbonara, if I remember correctly. One last dinner, Georgie, before I go. Wherever you want to go, I will take you. I realise I do notneedto explain myself, but I would reallyliketo. Take this. My card.’
Georgie was busy staring at the embossed card he’d placed next to her. His name. His number. A royal crest. Gold on cream.
‘I’ll understand if you won’t let me deliver you back to...wherever you live. I know that you may feel that my presence in your house is an intrusion when you are obviously still resentful about how things ended between us after all this time.’
‘Can you really blame me?’
‘There are always two sides to every story.’
‘No, Abbas, sometimes there’s just the one side.’
‘Have dinner with me.’
