Stuck in Paradise with You

Chapter 39

39

CARRIE

‘Morning, girlie,’ Alisha sings, surprisingly bubbly given the circumstances. She’s fluttering around the dining table in the main house with Sanza on her hip and using her free hand to help Monique lay out plates of pastries, cold cuts and cheese. ‘The uniform looks good on you.’

‘In which case, let me help you.’ I take two jugs of juice from a side table that’s loaded with food from the kitchen and set them into the middle of the table. ‘You really didn’t have to do this, especially today.’

‘Nonsense,’ Alisha says, waving her now free arm after setting down a tray she was carrying. ‘We all have to eat, and it’s not as if we won’t be working for it today. How did you sleep?’

Only now do I really glance around the room and amongst the faces we started the day with yesterday. It’s surreal the way everyone is working, sitting around the table drinking coffee or eating, normally, as if there wasn’t a hurricane outside. Luke and Joe are standing together in the wall of windows overlooking what, just a day ago, was a plush terrace.

As if he senses me watching them, Luke turns, the same stern look on his face he gave me before he left his pod. I turn my lips up gently, tentatively, and mouth, I’m sorry . He held me all night and didn’t try anything else. He was there for me when I needed him and, while the sentiment remains – I just can’t be fraternizing with my client’s CFO in front of my client’s CEO, who happens to own the Hettich empire – waking up in Luke’s arms this morning was idyllic.

I panicked, again. I was afraid, am afraid, and that’s not a position from which to put everything on the line. But I really don’t want us to be bitter. Worse, to not be speaking. I don’t want to see him hurt. I also don’t want to give away that something, though God knows what, is happening between us. Something I’m terrified of. Something reckless. And something I absolutely need to confront said CEO about.

So when Luke dips his head and gives me just the slightest smile in return, it dials down my inner mayhem by a notch.

I take a seat at the table between Jenny and Ella, who is plating up fruit and pancakes for Toby.

‘I see the lovebirds kissed and made up, then,’ Ella says, giving a flick of her head in the direction of Luke and Joe.

‘More like Luke has decided it wasn’t such a bad plan after all,’ Jenny says, smirking in my direction.

‘You knew?’ I ask, aghast.

‘Most of us knew, honey,’ Ella says. ‘Henry is usually shy and he was all over you, playing the flirting game because Joe told him to, until Joe saw how serious his game had become and stepped Henry down.’

I literally gasp. ‘That’s— This is, like, some kind of violation of some kind of rights I have, surely? And Henry was basically employed to flirt with me? That’s… mortifying. And wrong. So wrong. And… can I really only get a hot guy to flirt with me if they’re being paid to do it?’

Jenny laughs. ‘I don’t think Henry needed much convincing, Carrie, believe me. And if all of this had gone badly, I think there’d have been a lawsuit or three you could have brought, but, alas, all’s well that ends well, right?’

I feel my eyebrows shoot so high, they might have temporarily abdicated my face. ‘For the record, nothing has ended well and, client or not, Joe has some major explaining to do.’

Jenny and Ella exchange a look that says something akin to yikes .

I need pastries. Comfort pastries. For so, so many reasons today. There’s one of my absolute favorites, a pain au raisin, left on the tray that has my name written all over?—

An arm reaches across me and grabs my beloved pastry. I know that arm, I know the cologne in the air around me, and sure enough, when I spin around in my seat, I see Luke looking smug-as-hell because he knows pains aux raisins are my favorite. Given I had one nearly every day we shared an office together for more than a year, I think the evidence is unequivocal.

‘You wouldn’t,’ I say, scowling as he pauses, his lips almost touching my pastry.

‘Rock, paper, scissors?’

I stand and face him. ‘Three, two, one.’ I hold out my hand, as does he, and I take great pleasure in banging my rock against his scissors, then snatching my pastry back from him and moaning theatrically as my teeth sink into it.

Luke leans forward and I fear for my pastry, but he bypasses it and brings his mouth to my ear instead, whispering, ‘I’ve heard that sound before. I was well behaved last night but don’t tease me, Carrie.’

I’d be amazed if the people on the next island over couldn’t hear the depth of my swallow. I had better not tease him because if he pulls that move again, my own resolve will be seriously tested.

I’m not. Can not . Under any circumstances, go there. Again .

I watch him move as he walks around the table, choosing the seat directly opposite mine to sit. I resume my place at the table, not daring to look at either Jenny or Ella.

The lightness of the morning among the group fades, though people are surprisingly upbeat as we work as a unit to clear pathways, chop down trees, tarpaulin holes in roofs, clear away sandbags and mop floors.

More than once, I wonder how bad the other islands must be if this hurricane-proof island has come out of the storm so badly. Joe’s right, it’s a mess, and it will take months, longer even, to regrow and to fix, but he can financially afford to put it right. The main structures are in one piece. His family has a home. There’ll be many families for whom the reality is very different.

That’s probably the version of events that will wind up on the news, so I keep checking for phone signal throughout the day. I need to get in touch with my mom, my dad and Callum, my boss too, but there’s nothing.

I’m trying again, standing on the pathway looking out at the dirty sea from the highest point of the island. Like someone out of a comedy sketch, I’m holding my phone as high as I can in the air, still not receiving any signal.

‘We’ve managed to make radio contact off island.’ Joe appears next to me. I’ve been so lost in wiggling my phone at the clouds that I didn’t hear him coming. ‘I’ve let them know who’s here and they’ll spread the word. They have your mom’s number to let her know you’re safe.’

In true Joe style, he’s wearing an outrageous sky-blue shirt that’s decorated with eye-wateringly bright flamingoes all over it. It hasn’t stopped him pulling his weight today, though. Joe is atypical in many respects. His lack of pretentiousness for a man so wealthy is probably the number one thing I like about him. Or liked, before he dragged me here under false pretenses, got me stuck here with my ex who broke my heart and for whom I am catching all the forbidden feelings again; oh yeah, and had me endure the fun of a category five hurricane.

Nevertheless, what he’s done is kind. ‘Thank you, I appreciate it. My mom has a fairly nervous disposition at the best of times. She’ll be worried sick about me.’

He nods. ‘Just so you know, I’m working on getting a chopper here for you. As soon as the airport is open on Tortola, we’ll get you home.’

‘Thank you.’

He pouts and wiggles his lips, tucking his hands into his pockets. The space around us feels awkward all of a sudden.

‘Do you have a minute?’ he asks, as if anyone ever says no to him.

But I do feel like saying no. Particularly because I suspect I know what the topic of this minute will be and I haven’t really put my mind to how I want to handle this whole false-imprisonment thing.

He walks to the edge of the pathway, the sun slowly beginning its descent in front of us, and when I follow, he asks, ‘Shall we take a load off?’ He comes to sit on the ground. ‘It’s been another long old day.’

‘It has,’ I agree, sitting next to him and crossing my legs in a way that looks like I’m meditating. It would be a good spot for it.

‘Thank you for all your help, before, during and after the storm. We all really appreciate it,’ Joe tells me. ‘You’re a massive hit with my family.’

I smile. ‘Well, they’re great. You have a truly beautiful family. While I’m here, I’m glad I can help. I want to. I’m sorry this hurricane happened to anyone.’

‘Let’s get to it, Carrie. Luke told you about my grand plan. I want to say, for the record, it was all well-intentioned but, as my wife told me before this week even began, I overstepped, and I’m sorry.’

‘Wow. I’m not sure I was expecting you to tackle it so directly and issue an apology right out of the traps.’

Joe snorts. Genuinely snorts. ‘I may be rich, Carrie, but I’m not a dick. Mostly .’

If someone had told me that a week ago, I probably would have said something like, Yeah, sure . But after getting to know Joe, I actually do believe him. He’s a good human.

I could let this whole thing slide. I probably should let his faux pas go. He’s one of the world’s wealthiest men and my firm’s biggest client. But I’d be letting myself down if I did.

‘Why did you do it, Joe? How did you do it? Does my firm know about Luke and me, our history? Is Rachel in on it?’

The sinking feeling of dread comes back to me as I imagine the fallout from all of this that’s awaiting me in New York.

‘ How is easy, so let’s start there,’ Joe says, picking up a stick and making marks in the ground as he speaks, the way a naughty child might do while being told off. ‘I’ve been a client of your firm for years and I like to know who is coming and going; it’s one of my arrangements with Rachel. When you joined eighteen months ago on the partnership track, I was told. I knew your name and job from Luke and I vaguely knew your face because I’ve seen pictures of you, so it wasn’t at all difficult to put two and two together.’

‘Did Luke know?’

‘I decided not to tell him, for reasons that will become clear.’

When Joe frowns, I feel his expression reflected on my own face.

‘Eric was supposed to come here this week and he really did get stomach flu.’

I nod. ‘You could have rescheduled. None of what we’ve discussed this week has been drastically urgent.’

‘I could have. But I saw the opportunity and told Rachel I wanted you to come in Eric’s place.’

‘She didn’t question it or encourage you to rearrange?’

He looks at me now and grins. ‘Very few service providers question me, Carrie.’

I give a short laugh. ‘I’m sure.’

‘Rachel was curious as to why, after years of dealing with Eric, I would request you in his stead.’ He looks at me directly now. ‘You’ve been fantastic, by the way. More than capable of filling Eric’s shoes.’

I clear my throat, thrown by the compliment. ‘Thank you.’

‘Alas, I told her you had a personal connection to my CFO and that I’d like you to come. She asked what the connection was, I fobbed her off with you two working together previously, she asked if there was any conflict of interest, I assured her there wasn’t, blah, blah, blah.’

Oh God . This is awful . She asked if I was conflicted? Yes! A huge, big, fat, massive yes . Ethically, morally, yes . I had an affair, or legitimate relationship that turned out to be an affair, with the CFO of my client.

I don’t realize my head is in my hands until Joe says, ‘This is my doing, Carrie, and I’ll happily explain the full extent of my manipulation to Rachel.’

At this stage, maybe Joe should just not explain anything to anyone.

I puff out my next breath and look at him. ‘Why?’

He leans his head to one side then the other, as if he’s bouncing to a beat. ‘Hmm, that’s the part I hoped you and Luke would figure out for yourselves. But since you don’t seem to have got quite that far, I’ll tell you this: I’ve known Luke longer than any man could care to.’

Despite myself, I laugh.

‘He used to be the life and soul of everything, everywhere. Then after you two were involved and split, and, admittedly, Anya was an absolute dick to him, he was dark. Bleak. I’ve never seen him that down. It took him a long time to get happy again.’

My throat tightens as my chest swells. In a weird way, I wish I could have been there for him.

Joe’s eyebrows rise. ‘He never got ecstatically happy again. He’ll probably rugby tackle me for saying this, but he has sabotaged every relationship he’s been in since. They never last and usually it’s of his own doing. Imagining things that aren’t there, faking this love of his job that means he can’t invest time in a relationship, all the stereotypical moves of a man whose heart isn’t whole.’

This is like listening to Callum talk about me. Which makes it easy for me to say, ‘I get it.’ The words roll off my tongue before my mind tells them not to. I’m not speaking with an agony aunt but my client.

‘I brought you here to see if you two couldn’t close things off once and for all, one way or the other.’

Tension seems to flow out of my body with his confession.

‘Thank you for being honest with me.’

‘At last.’

I smile. ‘At last. It’s not okay, Joe. You’ve meddled in my life and with my career and you didn’t have that right.’

‘It’s fair to say that sometimes I get ideas above my station,’ he concedes.

He stands, dusts down the back of his shorts and offers a hand to me. I take it, standing up.

‘I suppose I can see why you’ve done it. As a friend to Luke.’

He holds his arms out wide. ‘Can we hug it out or am I overstepping again? Feel free to tell me it’s too much. I know I can be.’

Shaking my head in amusement, I give him a hug, which ends with mutual awkward back pats.

‘You know, I’m still hoping the ending is a happily ever after, though,’ he says when we separate.

‘Joe,’ I say, my voice low, ominous.

He laughs as he walks away and I watch him head toward the main house.

‘Are you okay?’

Luke’s voice is like a warm blanket folding around me after a very long day.

I turn to face him, to tell him, yes, I’m fine, but when I do, all I can think is, this is the man whose heart isn’t whole, asking a girl, whose heart hasn’t been whole since him, if she’s okay.

Without knowing what I’m trying to express, I step into his chest and welcome his arms closing around me, the feel of his lips on my hair.

‘I’m fine,’ I mumble against his body. ‘Thank you for asking.’

We end up sitting where Joe and I just were, side-by-side, watching the setting of the sun. I feel uncommonly calm. At peace even. Which, given the circumstances, speaks volumes about how stressful my real life is. I don’t think I’ve noticed the level of stress I operate at, or considered the things I could be doing and the places I could be seeing if I wasn’t always working and trying to squeeze in snippets of non-office life around the edges.

Callum is right. There’s got to be something more than that. But it’s taken me being here, in the wildness of this island, the scariness of the storm, and the craziness of the eclectic mix of people I’m surrounded by, to actually hear his words.

I suppose that’s why, after a group dinner (which ended with an all-parties dance-off to Disney tunes), when we’re walking back to our pods, Luke asks me, ‘Would you come back with me? As friends, no funny business.’

‘Friends? No touching, no flirting?’

‘Friends. Just two people who enjoy each other’s company, hanging out.’

I blush, glancing to my feet. ‘Sure, Chalmers. I’ll hang out with you.’

Even by the moon’s light, when I look up, I see his eyes widen and dance in a way that makes me think being just friends with Luke will be tricky. But better than nothing, and all that I’m willing to offer.