A piping-hot infusion of ginger and lemon will do the trick. Fruit and flower combinations are brilliant at lifting the spirits.
From Flynn’s Phantasmagoria of Tea
Wednesday
Sean almost had to snatch his raincoat from the hotel doorman before dashing out onto the pavement. But it was worth it, because Dee was still waiting to cross the busy road, her attention focused on shrugging into her duvet jacket, her bag clenched tight between her knees.
‘Dee. Wait a moment. What about our meeting?’
Her head swivelled back towards him and she looked from side to side for a moment before she realized who was calling out. Instantly her shoulders seemed to slump and she fastened up her jacket and slung her bag over one shoulder.
‘Meeting? Can we do it over the phone? I really don’t want to go back inside.’
She shrugged her shoulder bag higher and sighed out loud. ‘I think that I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one morning. Don’t you?’
Then she pulled a dark-green and gold knitted cap out of her jacket pocket and pulled it down over her pixie cut. ‘Right now I am far more interested in finding the nearest piece of park, grass, garden, anything in fact, that will make me forget the white holding cell that I have just been in. Okay?’
Then she noticed the crossing light had turned green and she turned on the heels of her ankle boots and strode forward, her cotton dress swinging from side to side above the grey-patterned leggings.
Her outfit was the perfect match for her personality: stylish, modern and surprisingly sexy. Just like the woman wearing them. The ankle boots were just short enough to display a finely turned ankle and toned calf muscles.
And just like that his libido switched up another level.
What had he told Rob? That he had missed his two weeks in the sun? Well, maybe he could find some of that life and colour right here in London in the shape of Dee Flynn.
He rarely met women outside work, and never dated guests or his employees, so his social life had been pretty static ever since the disaster with Sasha.
But there was something about this girl that screamed out that her open, friendly manner was real. Genuine. And totally, totally original. Which in his world was a first.
She knew exactly who she was and she knew what she wanted. Yet she was prepared to tell him that she had a problem with closed, windowless spaces and she had to change the rules to deal with it.
Sexy and confident inside her own skin.
And she was totally unaware of how rare a thing that was, especially in the hotel business, where most people had hidden agendas. Her goal was simple: she had placed her trust in the hotel and they had let her down. And she needed him to put that right. Because it was personal. Very personal.
Was that why he had taken time out today to meet her when his conference team were perfectly capable of finding a replacement venue in one of the other Beresford hotels in this city?
She marched ahead, then stopped and looked up at the street names high on the wall of the buildings on either side, hesitant and unsure.
‘Looking for somewhere in particular, or will any stretches of grass do?’
Dee whirled around to face him, her eyebrows squeezed together, her hands planted firmly on her hips. ‘I have no clue where I am. Seriously. I left my street map back at the shop and was too frazzled to jump on the next bus. I would probably end up even more lost. And shouldn’t you be back doing your hotel management thing?’
She waggled her fingers in the direction of the hotel with a dismissive sniff.
‘What? And leave my special client lost in a strange part of the city? Tut tut. That would be a terrible dereliction of my duties. Please. Allow me to be your tour guide.’
He closed the gap between them on the narrow pavement outside the smart row of shops and waved his right hand in the air. ‘As it happens, I know this area very well even without a map. And you wouldn’t want to see me get into trouble with the senior management, would you?’
‘Is this all part of the Beresford hotel’s five-star service?’ She asked with just enough of an uplift in her voice to tell him that she was struggling not to laugh.
‘What do you think?’ he asked, and was rewarded with a knowing smile before she squeezed her lips together, a faint blush glowing on her neck.
Her gaze scanned his face, hesitant at first, but the longer she looked at him, the more her features seemed to relax and she lifted her chin before replying in a low, soft voice which to his ears was like the rustle of new leaves in the trees that lined the street. The relentless noise of the buses, taxis and road traffic faded away until all he could focus on was the sound of her words. ‘I think I would like to see the river. Do you know how to get there?’
Sean nodded, and soon they were walking side by side along the wide, grey stone pavement that ran along beside the river Thames.
‘Okay, what was it that made you hate my hotel so much that we had to dash out into the rain?’ Sean asked.
Dee winced. ‘Do you really want to know? Because I am famous for being a tad blunt with my opinions when asked questions like that.’
He coughed low in his throat and took a tighter grip on his briefcase. ‘I noticed. And, yes, I do want to know.’ Then he glanced over at her and gave a small shrug. ‘It’s my job to keep the guests happy and coming back for more. So fire away; I can take it.’
Dee stopped walking and dropped her head back, eyes closed. Her chest lifted and fell inside her padded jacket a couple of times.
‘I’m so glad that the rain stopped. I like rain. Rain is good. Snow too. But cold sleet and grey skies? Not so much.’
Then she opened her eyes and looked up at him. ‘What were you like when you were fifteen years old?’
The question rocked Sean a little and he took a second before replying. ‘Fifteen? Living in London, going to school then working in the kitchens at my dad’s first hotel: loading dishwashers, peeling veg, helping to clean the rooms. My brother and sister did the same. We are a very hands-on family and there was no special treatment for any of us. We had to learn the hotel business from the bottom up. Those were the rules. And why do you want to know that?’
‘I was born in north-east India. At a tea plantation where my dad was the general manager. He worked for a big firm of Scottish tea importers who owned most of the tea gardens in that district of Assam. And don’t look at me like that. I am simply answering your question the long way round.’
‘Are you always so curious about other people’s lives?’ Sean asked.
‘Always, especially when I can see the worry on your face. No doubt you have some terribly important business meeting that you should be attending at this very minute instead of putting up with me. As a matter of interest, how long had you given me in your whizzy electronic diary this morning? Just for future reference?’
Sean lifted both hands in the air and gave a low chuckle. ‘A whole fifty minutes. So we are still on the clock. Please, carry on. Your delightful childhood in sunny India. That must have been very special.’
She grinned, shook her head, then carried on walking. ‘You have no idea. Both of my parents were working estate managers so I was left with my nanny and the other kids to run feral across a huge farm most of the time outside school. It was paradise. I only went down with serious diseases twice and grew up speaking more of the many local languages than English. I loved it.’
‘When did you leave?’
‘We moved four times to different estates in fifteen years and that was tough. But they all had the same problems and my dad had a remarkable talent for turning the businesses around. He seemed to have a knack for dealing with people and helping them with what they needed. Mostly better education