back. What seemed like a coach party of women of all shapes and ages burst out into the tea rooms, laughing like trains, gossiping and competing with one another in volume and pitch to make their voices heard above the uproar.
It felt like a tsunami of women was bearing down on him.
All carrying huge bags bursting with what looked like cake tins and mystery utensils and binders. Sean stepped back and practically squeezed himself against one wall to let the wall of female baking power sweep past him towards the entrance and out into the street.
‘Ah, Lottie. There you are!’ Dee Flynn cried out and grabbed the sleeve of a very pretty slim blonde dressed in a matching navy T-shirt and trousers. ‘Sorry I did not get back to serve more tea. Come and meet Sean. The London Festival of Tea is going to have a new exciting venue and Sean here is the man who is in charge of finding the perfect location. And he is not going to rest until he has found the perfect replacement.’
She grinned at him with an expression of pure delight, with an added twist of evil. ‘Aren’t you, Sean?’
THREE
Tea, glorious tea. A celebration of teas from around the world.
There are many different kinds of tea, but they are all derived from just one type of plant: Camellia sinensis. The colour and variety of the tea (green, black, white and oolong) depends on the way the leaves are treated once they are picked.
From Flynn’s Phantasmagoria of Tea
Wednesday
‘So how are you enjoying being back in London?’ Rob Beresford’s voice echoed out from the computer screen in his usual nonchalant manner. His eyebrows lifted. ‘Same old madness?’
‘Nothing that boring.’ Sean snorted and pointed to the bags under his eyes. ‘Still shattered. Still jet-lagged. Still wading through the mess Frank Evans got himself into at Richmond Square. I still can’t believe that the man we trusted to run our hotel just took off and left this disaster for someone else to sort out.’
Sean’s half-brother sat back in his chair and gave a low cough. ‘Now, who does that remind me of? Oh yes, your ex-girlfriend. I caught up with the lovely Sasha at the catering-strategy forum last week. She asked me to say hi, by the way. Now, wasn’t that sweet? Considering that she dumped you with zero notice. I could almost dislike her if it wasn’t for her fantastic figure.’ Rob gave a low, rough sigh. ‘And that tan... She’s looking good, brother. The Barbados hotel seems to be suiting her very nicely and the clients love her.’
‘Thanks for the update.’ Sean coughed and then squinted towards the computer screen. ‘And she did not dump me. It simply wasn’t working out for either of us. Trying to co-ordinate our diaries so that we were in the same time zone for more than a few days had stopped being funny a long time before we called it a day. You know what chaos it was last year! You were there, working the same hours as I was.’
Sean turned back to shuffling through a file on the desk. Sasha had been on the fast-track Beresford Hotels management programme and he had been working so hard that he hadn’t even noticed that they barely saw one another face to face any more.
Until he’d come back to her apartment at one a.m., exhausted after two weeks on the road solving all the teething problems for a hotel opening, to find Sasha sitting waiting for him.
He had just missed her birthday dinner, the one he had promised that he would be there for. Not even the private jet could fly in tropical storms.
It was a pity that it hadn’t been the first time that he’d missed her birthday. They had both worked like crazy over the Christmas and New Year holiday, but February should have been down time. Until the new hotel they were opening in Mexico had flooded only days before the grand opening and a holiday became a distant memory.
They had talked through the night but in the end there had been no escaping the truth. He was the operations troubleshooter and Tom Beresford’s son. It was his job to be on stand-by and cope with emergencies. No matter what else was happening in his life. Or who. And she’d wanted more than he was prepared to give her.
It had been crunch time. He could either decide to give her the commitment she needed and deserved or they could walk away as friends who had enjoyed a fun and light hearted relationship and leave it like that.
He had not even bothered to unpack.
‘Ah, but I still managed to find the time to enjoy the company of a few lovely ladies,’ Robert replied. ‘Unlike some people. But that’s past history. So last year! Come on; you were in Australia for six weeks scouting for new locations! You must have spent some time at the beach.’
Robert Beresford sat back with his hands clasped behind his head. ‘I am having visions of lovely ladies in very small bikinis on golden sands and surf boards. Classy. You have just made my day.’
‘I know. I can see you drooling from here,’ Sean shook his head. ‘That was the plan. Two glorious weeks in Melbourne in February. Two weeks to sleep, soak up the sun and generally have some down time before starting the Paris assignment.’
He waved the conference-booking file at the screen. ‘That was the plan. And now I am in London instead. Remind me again why I am the one who gets called in to pick up the pieces when the brown stuff hits the fan?’
‘Who else is the old man going to call? I am only interested in the food and drink side of this crazy business, remember? There has to be someone in the family who can squeeze into a super-hero costume and fly in to save the day and Annika is way too stylish to wear underpants over her tights.’
Sean laughed out loud and flicked open the event files. ‘Now, that is just being mean. I caught those last restaurant reviews. The food critics are crazy about that new fusion franchise you brought in. Kudos.’
Rob saluted him with a hat-tip. ‘I’ll tell you all about it when we meet up for the conference on Friday. Right? And try and relax. You’ll have that mess sorted out by then. You always do. Shame that you can’t take some down time before starting the new job. But you never know. You might find some sweet distraction while you are in London.’
Then Sean’s gaze caught the lilac envelope that he had popped onto his desk to be filed. He quickly stole a glance at the file he had updated the minute he had got back to his hotel room the previous evening. Complete with the photo of Dee he had clipped from a London newspaper article from the previous October about the opening of Lottie’s Cake Shop and Tea Rooms.
The two girls were standing outside the cake shop in what looked to be a cold autumn day.
Dee grinned out to the photographer with a beaming smile which was a lot warmer than the one he had been on the receiving end of. But her colour scheme was just as alarming.
She was wearing a short, pleated green skirt in a loud check-pattern tweed and a knitted top in fire-engine red partly covered with a pretty floral apron. Her blonde friend, Lottie, was in navy trousers and top with the same apron and compared to Dee looked elegant, sedate and in control while Dee looked...like a breath of fresh air. Animated, excited and alive.
That was the strange thing. Even in a digital scan from a newspaper this girl’s energy and passion seemed to reach out from the flat screen, grab him and hold him tight in her grasp. She was looking at him right in the eyes. Just as she had in the flesh. No flinching or nervous sideways glances. Just single-minded focus, with eyes the colour of spring-green leaves; it was quite impossible to look away.
But not cold. Just the opposite, in fact. Even when she’d been challenging him to come up with a replacement venue that sexy smile was warm enough to turn up the heat on a cold winter’s evening. Or was it that slippery one-shoulder sweater that she had been almost wearing?
He had vowed never to get involved in another relationship after Sasha, and no amount of bar crawling with Rob had persuaded him to change his mind. But there was something about Dee that seemed to get under his skin and he couldn’t shake it off.
Maybe