‘Luke has taste, I’ll give him that,’ he said as joined her, pausing to gaze at the cellophane wrapped blooms. ‘I’d say these cost a bit too.’
‘Yes, they probably did,’ she agreed. ‘Kind of him wasn’t it?’
‘Yes, nice gesture.’ Nathan nodded thoughtfully.
‘Right,’ Cat scooped them up off her desk, ‘let’s get them put into water so I can enjoy them properly.’
‘Want me to put reception out of their misery?’ he asked as they left her office and he followed her towards housekeeping.
‘Yes, I’m all for a quiet life.’ Cat smiled noticing the two receptionists were watching closely. ‘Although don’t mention Luke’s name or that will get them all fired up again.’
‘What would you like me to tell them then?’
‘Just tell them the truth; that it was from a grateful client.’
‘How’s your new waitress coming along?’ Cat asked over breakfast the next morning.
‘Marika Stefanski, you mean?’
‘If that’s her name, yes.’
‘Yeah, she’s doing fine,’ Nathan replied as he finished buttering a slice of toast and reached for the marmalade. ‘Anton says she’s a good worker, although she doesn’t seem to be mixing in with the rest of the restaurant staff too well. Tends to keep herself to herself.’
‘I guess it’s to be expected, isn’t it?’ Cat said, pouring herself another cup of coffee. ‘She’s new, in a foreign country. Must be difficult. She’s probably shy and a little bit nervous.’
‘Maybe, but there are two Polish waitresses in the team already. Anton thought it a good idea for them to room share but Marika wasn’t happy. Asked to have a room of her own. Said she’s studying and needs peace and quiet.’
‘Studying? But I thought she’d only just arrived in the UK.’
‘Yes, that’s right she has.’ Nathan thought for a moment then shrugged as he went back to spreading marmalade. ‘It beats me what she’s up to. Maybe she’s doing some online thing. I know she owns a laptop. But it isn’t just the studying. Anton tells me she’s a bit aloof and the girls are becoming a little resentful. There’s a general feeling she thinks she’s better than they are. She keeps mentioning the huge country house her parents own and the wonderful lifestyle she had there. If that’s true, I’ve no idea what she’s doing here waiting tables. Oh yes, actually I do,’ he said, waving his knife at her. ‘Anton tells me one of the trainee chefs asked her out but she turned him down. She told the other waitresses he’s not what she’s looking for. She’s after a man with money.’
‘Out to catch a rich Brit, eh?’ Cat said with a laugh.
‘Yes but ambitions aside, it only takes one wrong choice to wreck a whole team, doesn’t it?’ Nathan said, pushing his plate away. ‘Still, it’s early days so I’m hoping she’s simply finding her feet, even if she’s ruffling a few feathers in the process. At the moment I’ve asked Anton to keep an eye on things and report back if there’s a problem.’
‘Very sensible,’ Cat agreed as she got up and began clearing away the breakfast things. ‘I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. Give it a couple of months and no doubt they’ll all be great friends.’
Chapter Eight
Marika Stefanski, who had been clearing away the lunch tables in the hotel restaurant, watched as a white Mercedes sports car pulled into the car park.
‘Hanna, will you come here?’ she said in halting English. ‘I need to know something.’
At the sound of Marika’s arrogant tone, the other waitress, who was busy removing tablecloths and stuffing them into a laundry bag, stopped what she was doing. She glared across to the spot where Marika was currently standing in one of the far bay windows, staring at something out in the car park.
‘Did you hear me?’ Marika persisted, her gaze still held by whatever was beyond the window.
‘Of course I did.’ In one irritable motion the girl finished pushing the tablecloth into the bag and went to join her.What now?she wondered. Marika was nothing but a rude bitch. No one liked her. She had made it clear on her arrival at the hotel that her waitressing job was merely a stepping stone. Tarwin House was a luxury hotel and here, she’d confided in Hanna, she hoped to snare a husband. Hanna had given an amused snort. As if the kind of clients who stayed here would find someone like her appealing. With her long dark hair and striking blue eyes she might be attractive but what good were those attributes when her life was a web of lies? Since starting work a few weeks ago she had continually boasted of the life she had left behind in Poland, but Nadia and Janina, the other two Polish girls in the team, knew different. Marika, they’d said, came from a rural area near their own home town and none of the stories about the beautiful mansion house and luxury lifestyle were true. All of it, they told the others, came from Marika’s rather fanciful imagination.
‘What is it you want to know?’ Hanna asked as she joined her at the window.
‘The Mercedes.’ Marika indicated the car, which had now slotted itself into a vacant parking space. ‘Who does it belong to?’
Before Hanna could answer, the driver, a young man in his early twenties wearing denim board shorts and a white T-shirt, got out and stretched before sweeping a tanned hand through his curly blond hair. Hanna heard Marika draw in a breath. There was no doubt Jordan Hunter was hot but he wasn’t the sort any decent or sensible girl should get involved with. He might have a great body, model looks and money, but he had a cruel streak. Hadn’t she seen enough evidence of that on the occasions she’d offered to work an evening shift in the hotel’s basement club? None of these silly girls, it seemed, learned any lessons. Willing victims lined up, ready to spend time with him, only to be callously dumped when he became bored with them. And during her time at the hotel she had learned Jordan loved to end his romances publicly. In fact, the more pain and humiliation he could inflict the better. She knew the name girls back home in the Czech Republic called men like him … kretén.
Hanna noticed Marika’s expression cloud when, moments later, the passenger door opened and a slim girl with shoulder length ash blonde hair emerged. In skinny jeans and a cropped top she slipped a pale leather bag over her shoulder and joined him, reaching for his hand as they walked towards the hotel entrance.
‘That is Jordan Hunter,’ Hanna said, deciding now was an appropriate time to annoy Marika. ‘His father is a friend of Mr Trevelyan’s. He comes here regularly. Brings his girlfriends for lunch, or to use the spa.’
