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Volume 1 ~ A Taste of Tomorrow
A TASTE OF TOMORROWby Yasmin John-Thorpe 1 "Good grief, can anything else go wrong today?" The question came from Catherine Cooke, owner/chef of COOKE'S CATERING. It echoed unanswered around the empty office. Cath, as she was known to her family and friends, held a now silent phone away from her ear. She returned it none too gently to its cradle, before wearily rubbing her eyes. "I'm talking to myself again," the distraught young woman whispered. A silly childish habit had become an everyday occurrence, but this phone call made Cath realize this was not the time to start talking to herself. The situation was serious. Maggie, her girl Friday, had just come down with the flu. She was the latest person to fall prey to this season's influenza. Cath knew she might be a whiz with food, but she knew zero about people. With that thought in mind, she had approached the very outgoing Maggie, a close family friend. Cath had an idea about catering lunches to the businesses in the city. "Oh, but I'd love to work for you," Maggie said, when Cath had asked. The two had come up with a relatively easy marketing plan. First, they sent out brochures describing the services and menus offered. This was followed by personal phone calls a week later. Maggie handled most of the person to person contacts. Less than one month later they had daily orders came from several large companies. It was Maggie, the respectable motherly type, who always did the deliveries and set-ups to the various businesses. Today, with the older woman's sudden illness, the job had fallen to Cath. She dreaded it. Cath eyed the account books strewn across her desk. Nothing she could do about them now. With a sigh she pushed away from the desk. "Better get it done," she muttered as she stood. "I'll just have to leave you for later," she addressed the books. * * * Cath drove the white, Cooke's catering van into the heart of downtown Vancouver. She turned into the office building's entrance, where her client, Anderson's Architecture, had its offices. Cath parked the van in the delivery spot, pulling on the hazard lights. She paused. It had to be done. She could not put it off until Maggie was better. These people were expecting a catered lunch today during their board meeting. Determinedly she climbed out. Quickly and efficiently, before she lost her nerve, Cath transferred the food containers to the portable trolley she carried in the van. She rode the elevator to the seventh floor, where she exited. "The board room?" Cath's voice shook slightly as she addressed the receptionist. She was unable to hide her nervousness. Anderson was her best and longest client. Cath was concerned about her very unprofessional appearance. Today, like all the days when she worked on her account books, she wore faded jeans sporting several embarrassing tears, a white tee-shirt which had seen better days and scuff-marked running shoes. Maggie, on the other hand, always dressed impeccably. Today Cath's only concession, on such short notice, had been to hide her unruly, long, red tresses under an old baseball cap. "This is much better," Cath uttered as she entered the quiet, tiny kitchen, where miraculously, once alone, her unease disappeared. Before setting the large board room table, Cath quickly unloaded the trolley. She shelved the large green salad, with the container of vinaigrette dressing, in the fridge. The pot containing the winter squash soup landed on the stove, with the burner turned to medium, and the spinach and shrimp quiche slid into the oven set at three hundred degrees. "Play ball," Cath whispered loudly, shifting the baseball cap sideways, when it threatened to get in the way. Humming 'Take Me Out to the Ball Game', she located cutlery, crockery and napkins. With efficient swiftness, Cath hurried to complete her task and escape the large, elegant room. Placing a vase of fresh flowers in the center, Cath stepped back to view her handy work. Everything looked wonderful. She gave a smart salute to her handiwork and bowed to the imaginary applause. "Well done." The sudden sound of a deep, masculine voice and real applause jerked her upright. Cath spun around. In the now open doorway stood a tall, slender and devilishly handsome man. He wore a white shirt with a dark suit. His blue-black hair was cut short. But it was his striking cobalt eyes which caught and held her gaze. "You're certainly not Maggie, so who are you?" he asked. A smile tugged at his gorgeous mouth as he moved towards her. Cath was unable to utter a word. She stared wide eyed as he drew closer. He was so handsome he took her breath away. Before she could react to his nearness or answer his question, he tipped her chin upwards and lightly brushed his lips against hers. When he drew back his impulsive action appeared to have surprised him as much as it had Cath. While they stood close, eying each other, a voice from the open doorway intruded into the growing silence. "Mr. Anderson, the phone is for you." Mr. Anderson! Cath didn't know if her shaking came from her reaction to his unexpected kiss, or from knowing who he was. She just prayed for the ground beneath her feet to open up. Ignoring the summons, the man reached over and tugged the twisted baseball cap off her head. "Who are you?" Curiosity filled his voice, while his eyes roamed over her. When she remained silent he grew impatient. He used her baseball cap which he still held, to gently tap her on the tip of her nose. "Stay, right there!" he commanded, backing out of the room. His gaze stayed locked on her until the last possible moment when he disappeared from sight. When Cath could finally draw a ragged breath, she did not do as he had asked. Well, more like demanded. Instead she turned and fled as if the devil himself were after her. 2 "Stay calm." Cath paced her office and prayed the quiet request would relay itself to her nervous system. During the past week, since the encounter with Ian Anderson her nerves had been as taut as violin strings. Anderson's private assistant had phoned twice, making inquiries about the young woman who had delivered the last meal. Those calls had not helped Cath's nervous state. Although Cath did apologized to the assistant, saying the helper was not a regular, she hadn't had the courage to ask why the information was needed. Cath had not mentioned the incident to anyone, not even Maggie. "Especially not to Maggie," she muttered. Today, Cath had arrived early. The account books were still awaiting her painstaking diligence. She had done all the meal preparations before working on updating the books. Now, she waited for Maggie to return from her deliveries, to mind the office. Cath had to make a long overdue visit to the bank. Cath felt presentable. Earlier, she showered in the small bathroom at the back of the office, changing into a suit she'd brought from home that morning. "Great you're back," Cath did not look up when she heard the door open. She rose, reaching for her purse and briefcase. With them firmly in her grasp she turned towards the door. "Thanks for..." She trailed off. The same handsome devil, who had invaded her thoughts numerous times over the past week, stood in the open doorway. Ian Anderson leaned against the door frame, arms folded and ankles casually crossed. Today he was dressed in a blue denim shirt and jeans. The cloths hugged his lean body. "Well, well, well," he said in that familiar deep voice. "if it isn't the elusive redhead." The remembered sexy grin tugged at his mouth. He left the doorway, advancing towards her. When he closed the distance between them, he totally shocked Cath by tugging her gently to him and taking her lips in a quick hard kiss. Cath stepped back, breaking the intimate contact. Once again he looked as shocked as she felt. His next words confirmed her assumptions. "Sorry, I shouldn't have done that," he apologized. He raked his fingers through his short black hair. He backed away, which created welcomed space between them. He half sat on the edge of her desk, his blue searched her face. Cath knew she had to say something. What in heavens name should she say? She was not the one who walked in and devoured his mouth. "Er..." she stammered. Why the kiss? And why had he come here? His mere presence and actions intimidated her. Cath's heart thumped in her chest. Before she could come up with something intelligent to say to the disturbing man, rescue came from an expected source. Once again, as in his board room, she was saved from possibly making a complete fool of herself. "Oh, hello Ian." To Cath floundering for an intelligent statement, Maggie's voice oozed charm. She hurriedly entered the office and faced the elegantly dressed man. "Maggie," he answered. Cath watched him ease off the desk, crossing the space which separated him from the older woman. He affectionately embraced her. "I missed your happy smile the other day." "Go on with you," Maggie's breathless laughter rang out. "I came down with a touch of the flu." And just how could you miss me, you handsome brute," she added teasingly, "when you had the 'boss lady' filling in for me?" Cath swallowed hard. The tall man turned slowly to face her. His welcoming smile, of a short while ago, was replaced by an unreadable expression. He left Maggie's side and came to her. Cath took a protective step back. "The 'boss lady'?" he asked softly. "Oh, didn't you two meet the other day?" Maggie asked, joining Cath. Cath eyed the handsome Ian unable to utter a word. She noticed her client also remained closed-mouth about their previous meeting. The situation allowed Maggie to intervene. "Well, let me to do the honours. Ian Anderson, may I present Catherine Cooke, chef extraordinaire, owner of the business, my boss, my friend and the daughter I never had. Cath," she turned, "this is Ian Anderson, owner, boss and heart breaker of Anderson's Architecture." "Hello Red," he muttered, finally smiling. He leaned close to whisper, "You don't listen, do you?" Cath correctly guessed he referred to his command for her to stay put. "Ian," Maggie gasped. "Why are you calling Cath such a disgraceful name?" Cath had not taken her eyes off the rude man. Red! He had twice referred to her colouring. Now even after he knew her name, he insisted on being nasty. Instead of shaking off the tease, as was her normal reaction, Cath wanted to slap his handsome face. Her strong reaction to him stunned the normally shy Cath. Her nails dug into her palm as she fought for control. Cobalt eyes held hers. When she stubbornly remained silent, he finally turned to Maggie. His devastating smile and charm, Cath noticed, was back in place. "Forgive my rudeness, dear Maggie," he joked. "I need a few minutes alone with your boss." Before Cath could stop him, he ushered Maggie out of the office and quietly closed the door. Lord, here it comes. She was about to lose her best client. He came straight to her, stopping inches away. She watched as he turned and moved to the window. He kept his back to her, his hands shoved deep into his Jean's pockets. Cath's eyes strayed to the tightly pulled fabric across his buttocks. "I apologize once again for my earlier actions, he stated. "And I didn't mean to insult you about the colouring," he spoke without turning. "The truth is, I like your hair, it suits you." The compliment was uttered so low, Cath wondered if she'd heard him right. His off-hand compliment did manage to draw Cath's gaze from his attractive behind. She released the breath clogged in her throat. Easing the death grip on her brief case, Cath quietly placed it on the desk. Maybe she wouldn't lose a client. "I didn't realize that you were not only the owner, but also the chef," he continued. "Why wouldn't you return the phone calls?" he asked. He glanced her way, but remained at the window. Cath searched for an answer. What could she say? 'I was afraid you were displeased with my service and I'd lose the business.' "My assistant has been trying to get in touch with you for about a week," he continued when she remained quiet. "I need someone to prepare a dinner on Friday at my apartment. Could you help me out?" he asked. "A ...a dinner?" Cath choked out finally. Was that why his assistant had called? "And a lunch..." he seemed to be searching for the right words. He turned fully to face her. "Look, I have a small party of four arriving on Friday. I want to serve dinner, at my place. The next day and a half, I'll be taking them aboard my yacht. I'll need someone on board to prepare and serve a lunch, dinner and a Sunday brunch." He finally left the window. He moved towards her. When he reached her side he took both her hands in his. "Will you help me out, Cath?" 3 While she loaded supplies into her van on Friday, Cath tried to remember how she had gotten herself into this present mess. She could not recall what she had said to Ian Anderson, but here she was on her way to his apartment to cook dinner for him and his guests. "You must be out of your mind," she grounded out. "People scare you silly. Why in the world did you agree to a private dinner? Are you nuts?" But no answer was forthcoming. No one, but she, could give an explanation for her troubling decision to help the handsome Ian. The other foodstuff, for the cruise the following two days, had all been ordered. She would pick them up in the morning before heading out to the marina, where she'd been told to find his yacht 'The Odyssey'. "Oh..!" She let herself into the front door of his West Vancouver apartment, with the keys he'd given her. She gazed around his home. He lived on the building's top floor and the view was magnificent. The apartment had the professional touch. The kitchen was a chef's delight. * * * A few hours later savory smells filled the rooms. All was in readiness, even Cath. She'd showered in the guest bathroom. So engrossed in putting the finishing touches on the elegantly set table, she missed the quiet opening of the front door. "Hello Red." A scream erupted from Cath. She spun around to greet the handsome, smiling devil, moving slowly towards her. Once more Cath was unprepared for the embrace. Ian Anderson drew her gently into his arms and took her mouth possessively. Never in her life had one male kissed her so many times, in so short a period. Emotions threatened to drown her. Hesitantly, she allowed herself to participate in the exchange. A deep masculine moan vibrated through her to her toes. As quickly as he had embraced her, the maddening man set her away from him. Startled, Cath's puzzled gaze searched his face. He mirrored her shock. Why did he act this way every time he encountered her? She heard him swear softly. He raked his fingers through his hair. Abruptly he turned and without a word, disappeared towards the bedrooms. Cath finished the preparations totally bemused. "Madness!" Cath uttered through clenched teeth. She stood in the gourmet kitchen, stirring the contents in the pot on the stove. Her mind and thoughts were in chaos. "Utter madness!" she repeated louder. But no one could hear her. The sound of the shower in the master bedroom indicated the whereabouts of the stealer of kisses. Absently abandoning the pot, Cath paced about the kitchen. An image, of what the hard, wet, naked body of the very sexy Ian Anderson might look like, flashed across her mind. "Ian..." Cath whispered. "Get a grip!" she muttered angrily. She had to pull herself together. She had to serve the meal to five people in moments. "You cannot allow the actions of that devil to disturb you now. No matter how his kisses affect you.” Did he go around kissing every female he met? Why did he...? The buzzer at the downstairs front door sounded, stopping her thoughts. "Yes?" Cath nervously queried into the phone. "We're here for Ian Anderson," came an authoritative response. Cath pressed the door release button, while listening to the beep relayed downstairs. "I wonder who that is?" a female voice inquired. The mumbled reply was lost by the unmistakable closing of the downstairs door, as the party passed through. When the apartment's chime rang, Cath hastened to open the door. Four people stood there; An elegant older couple, a ravishing, slender, tall woman with short dark hair and behind them, an attractive blond man. The man pushed his way in, passed the others and grasped Cath's hands. "Hello, gorgeous," he grinned roguishly. "And just who might you be?" "Catherine is here to help with the meal, Raymond." Their host's voice was hard as he came into the room. Cath found herself tugged away from Raymond by a now suavely dressed Ian. He wore black shirt and trousers. If it were possible, Cath thought he looked even more handsome. His masculine scent reached her. He ignored the smiling Raymond, turning he ushered the others into the room. "Scott, Lillian, it's wonderful to see you," he greeted. "Darling, aren't you happy to see me?" Cath watched the young woman glide into Ian Anderson's arms. The two exchanged an embarrassingly intimate kiss. Was that the same man who had kissed her a short while ago? "Come, my sweet Kate," Raymond wrapped his arm around a shocked Cath, steering her away. "We'll let the two love birds greet each other without an audience." When they neared the entrance to the kitchen he whispered loud enough for the others to hear. "After all, they're only recently engaged." If his arm was not still propelling her forward, those words would have turned Cath's body to stone. It helped that one shock followed another. Once in the kitchen, Raymond dropped his arm and headed to the supply of liquor and glasses set up on the far counter. Quickly he uncapped the Scotch and poured a generous amount into a glass. Without pause, he downed the entire contents. He sloshed more of the amber liquid, from the bottle still in his grasp, into his glass. He raised it to his lips. This time the after-taste caused him to shake his head. When he grasped the bottle again, Cath moved. "Do you...eh... think you should do that?" she asked. Her question made Raymond pause. He glanced her way. Slowly he nodded. The action appeared to cause him pain. Momentarily, he shut his eyes tightly before reopened them to stare at her. "I have to find some Dutch courage, sweet Kate," he said, his voice full of despair. "Why," she asked before she could stop herself. "That is...I mean..." He had such a little lost boy look that Cath found herself reaching over, to rub her hand back and forth on his suit covered arm. Her actions stilled when he turned towards her and lowered his head. He brushed his lips across her forehead. "I have to. You see, I'm in love with Leigh," he said. It was his words, rather than his surprising actions which confused Cath. "Leigh...?" "The ravishing Leigh," Raymond interrupted, indicating the direction of the living room with a nod of his head. "But alas, the beauty has eyes only for Anderson's money." Another shocking piece of news. Cath felt a headache coming on. "Why don't you join the others, Raymond?" Ian voice, from the doorway, could cut ice. Cath and Raymond turned. The look on the host's face chilled her. His glance moved from the man, raising his glass to his lips, to her. His eyes followed her arm, to where her hand still rested on Raymond's arm. Cath quickly removed it. Guilt flowed through her. For what, she did not know. "Come." The now very serious Ian moved forward and took her elbow firmly. "I'll introduce you to the others and you can find out what everyone would like to drink." 4 The rest of the evening was a nightmare for Cath. Her usual unease among people grew with every passing minute. Even the once carefree, grinning, sexy, free kissing Ian Anderson had turned into a cold monster. Two things kept Cath at that apartment, instead of running like a mad banshee for safety. One was her confidence in her ability to cook delicious, unusual food and the other, strange as it might seem, was Raymond Maynard. "Only a poor, very, very distant relative, sweet Kate," Raymond explained with a wink, when he was introduced. Scott and Lillian Maynard were pleasant, but definitely treated her as the hired help. Leigh Maynard Cath disliked the instant they were introduced. The 'ravishing Leigh' as Raymond had called her, didn't lose an opportunity to be condescending. "What's this?" Leigh sneered, when Cath served the salad. "Why it's greens, Leigh," Raymond purred. "You can tell the difference between this and the kind with dollar-sign can't you? "I don't want any." Leigh had ignored the comment from Raymond and pushed the dish away. "The greens or the green?" Cath had almost giggled aloud when the very tipsy Raymond addressed the sulking woman. On it went through the meal. With the elder Maynards ignoring their daughter's rudeness, Ian Anderson growing quieter and Raymond, coming to Cath's rescue every time Leigh attacked. * * * Cath kept up with the mound of dirty dishes, by staying out of the dining area, between courses. She used the time to load the dishwasher. By the time she served coffee she was all caught up. "You may leave whenever you wish," the words from Ian, were the first addressed to her, since he'd guided her from the kitchen and Raymond earlier. Cath's only response was a curt nod. Saying a silent prayer of thanks that the horrible evening was almost at an end, Cath took the last set of dessert dishes to the kitchen. Quickly she rinsed them, before placing them in the now loaded dishwasher. "Well, my sweet Kate, that was delicious," Raymond said as he came into the room, an empty glass in his hand. "Where...eh...is your coffee? Cath asked. His boyish grin was by now totally lopsided. "Tsk..tsk, is that what you're trying to do, sober me up?" Cath nodded. He really was a dear man. He'd been the ray of sunshine throughout the evening. Cath suddenly wanted very much to take away his hurt. And hurt he was. It was there every time his gaze rested on the elegant woman he claimed to love. "You can't. I'm beyond help," he said, as he reached for the Scotch bottle. "Unless..." he poured a healthy amount in the glass before continuing, "...you have some way of getting Anderson to call off the engagement." Cath's mouth fell open. She watched as he shrugged, before he tipped the glass and its contents down his throat. "I didn't think so," he hissed as the liquor burned a path into his body. "Although," he continued, when he could inhale again, "if I may be so bold to say, you are a beautiful woman." "I think you might just be not only a little drunk, but also blind," Cath said honestly. She knew she was no beauty. "Well, you could be right about me being 'three sheets', but I have not allowed my obsession with Leigh to cloud my senses," the smile was sad. "Anyway," he continued, slamming the empty glass down on the counter, "I wanted to say thanks and good-bye. You, my sweet Kate made the time bearable." "I did nothing," she said simply. She didn't deal well with compliments. "Nonsense," his grim was back. "Anyone who could serve a simple salad, which confused the lovely Leigh, deserves to be congratulated." Now it was Cath's turn to smile. When he rolled his eyes the laughter, bubbling just under the surface, finally erupted. "Good God," he exclaimed, "you rival the ravishing Leigh when you laugh. Your green eyes dance impishly and you have incredible dimples!" "Hogwash!" Cath could not remember a time when she felt so comfortable with a man. A rather good looking man. This was all very new to her. "You do know, don't you, that you have a most kissable mouth?" he teased. "Hogwash!" Cath repeated. "You really are very drunk, and you're definitely blind as well. Anyway," she hurriedly changed the subject, uncomfortable with his words, "aren't you going on the trip tomorrow?" she asked. "Yes," he moaned. "How am I to ever survive the next two days, watching Leigh moon all over Anderson?" "Well..." Cath teased with a grin. "What? Do you know something?" Raymond appeared to sober slightly at the thought of some helpful rescue. "Well...you could keep the cook company?" Cath answered merrily. "The cook...? You...?" came his astonishing reply. "Yep...I..." Cath didn't finish. Through the doorway entered a very menacing Ian. "You about ready?" he addressed Cath. She turned back to face Raymond, whispered good-bye and winked as she saw his smile. Cath followed Ian to the living room, where she mumbled her farewell and hurried to the door. Ian reached it first and pulled it open. Cath moved passed him into the hallway. "Cath?" She stopped. Cath faced the man blocking the room and its occupants from view. "I..." he paused, raking his fingers through his hair. "I would like to thank you," he finally said. "I'll see..." Ian didn't finish. A loud voice from somewhere behind him chirped. "See you tomorrow, sweet Kate!" "What do you mean?" Leigh's snippy voice asked. Cath did not wait to hear the explanations. With a nod she moved on down the hallway to the elevator. Her senses prickled. She refused to turn around. If she did, she would have to deal with the disturbing cobalt eyes she knew still watched her. 5 The following morning's dawn brought clear skies, warm breezes, sunshine and a disgruntled Cath. If she thought her nightmarish evening had ended, after she left Ian and his guests behind, Cath had been sadly mistaken. The horrors started with her very erotic dreams in which Ian Anderson played a staring role. She awoke numerous times drenched in sweat. She finally gave up trying to find peaceful rest about five that morning. Cath, dressed in a sleeveless white denim shirt and white jeans, nursed several hot cups of coffee until it was time to pick up the fresh supplies. Everyone she encountered at the markets and stores seemed a little too happy. Their moods sent her dark thoughts to lower depths. "Blasted man," she kept cursing Ian, as she made her way to 'The Odyssey' anchored at the Pelican Bay Marina, on Granville Island. "Lord..." Cath's breath stilled, her sneaker covered feet slowed as she neared the large, expensive looking craft, bearing the name. She shifted the heavy cardboard box cradled in her arms, to better see the boat...no, yacht. It looked like a bloody ship. It was an enormous vessel. "Good-morning," the deep voice drew Cath's gaze. Ian stood, long legs slightly apart, at the stern of his boat. They had both dressed identical today. The effect of him all in white, with his black hair and the dark pilot sun-glasses covering his eyes, made Cath's throat constrict. He was back to smiling today. "Careful," she whispered. She was going to have to watch her step with this man. The way he looked threatened her peace of mind. "Just remember he's engaged," she grounded out under her breath. "Let me," Ian reached out to remove the loaded box from her arms. Cath surrendered her burden, reaching to unhitch the knapsack hanging down her back. It contained her overnight things and a change of clothes for the following day. Bracing her hands on the handrail, Cath moved to climb aboard. She was surprised to be hauled up and over the steps by strong hands. Ian had already deposited the box on a chair close by. Cath had been unaware he'd turned to help her. He held her firmly, dangling a few inches off the deck. Cath was forced to drop her bag and grab his shoulders for support. Startled, she raised eyes hidden behind sunglasses to stare at equally shaded eyes. "Welcome aboard, Red." Cath should have been expecting the kiss. Why it came as a surprise she didn't know. But shock her it did. After all this was a very engaged man. He had no right to keep doing these things to her body. And, her body had absolutely no right to react the way it continued to do, every time this male came within shouting distance of her. Heat invaded her body. Cath refused to think. She gave up her battle. She wound her arms around Ian's neck and kissed him right back. At her response to his drugging kisses, he lowered her body against his. She felt his arms crush her to his lean, hard frame. The embrace continued. Each gave and took, neither appeared to be thinking. Insanity ruled, until they were brought back to reality as the loud hoot from a nearby boat's horn intruded. One moment Cath was ecstatically happy and the next instant she stood several feet away from the confusing man. How did he manage to do this to her every time? Where had her common sense departed? They stood facing each other. Cath could hear his ragged breathing above hers. She could not read what was in his eyes, because of his sunglasses. She was happy about her own sunglasses. He could not see the tears pooling in hers. The confusing, silent man turned and leaped off the yacht. He paused looking back at her. Cath stood where he had left her. Her limbs turned to stone. She bit her lips to stop the tears from spilling over. Cath refused to let him see how upset she was. "Some supplies were delivered earlier," he said after the lengthy silence. "I'll go now and collect the others." When she remained silent, he continued. "The room off the galley is yours," he uttered, before moving away. Cath explored the lovely craft when her body thawed. There were two full decks. Expense had not been spared. Below the main deck, which housed a forward lounge, a bar and a large dinning room, were the cabins. The lower deck consisted of four sleeping quarters and two bathrooms. The larger of the two bathrooms was luxurious, separating the two forward rooms. The room on the port side was a large state room, which Cath surmised belonged to the owner himself. Her mind shield away from the thought that tonight, Ian might be sharing it with his fiancée. To the stern of these was a well equipped galley. A small serviceable room, with a narrow cot adjoined it. Cath opened a door and found a closet size shower, a toilet and vanity. She gave thanks for small mercies. She had not looked forward to sharing the bathroom down the passageway with the elder Maynards and Raymond. The galley windows and sliding doors faced aft. Out on the deck Cath noticed a huge barbecue. She made the decision to get the salmon ready for a cookout. It might be a lot more fun serving it that way instead of baked in the oven. Cath took a moment to enjoy the view. Then with her exploration done, she set out to store the supplies and get lunch started. She was amazed at the efficiently functioning galley. A pitcher of lemonade was the first order of business. She found a dumb waiter which hauled the food right up to the main dinning room. Cath took nibbles and the lemonade up, leaving it on the deck for the travelers. She returned to the galley and busied herself. She was not happy about seeing any of the Maynards again, with the exception of Raymond. Most of all, she hoped to stay out of Ian's sight for the rest of the trip. But she knew she was wishing for too much. 6 "Ahoy down there." Cath smiled as she recognized Raymond's voice. She listened to the different footsteps overhead. The yacht swayed each time someone came on board. Someone came down the aft stairs, outside the galley. Thinking it was Raymond, Cath looked up, a smile beginning to form on her lips. Green eyes clashed with cobalt ones. They had both removed their sunglasses. Cath inhaled sharply. The smile died on her lips. The cold monster was back. "Oh, there you are my sweet Kate," Raymond said as he moved from behind Ian, and entered the galley. Cath squealed as he gave her a bear hug, lifting her off the floor. The silly man danced her around the room, before setting her on her feet again. "I missed you, my sweet Kate," Raymond laughed down at her. He kept his arm around her. A bemused Cath tilted her head back to return his smile. "Lord, you really have the most kissable mouth," he teased. "We'll cast off in a few minutes," the hard voice spoke from behind her. She stiffened in Raymond's arms. "I hope you'll be free to serve lunch around one." Cath did not relax, even when she heard Ian climb the stairs back to the main deck. How had she forgotten he was standing there, while Raymond aped around? She slowly lifted a troubled gaze to the now silent man, who still had his arm about her. "Well, well, well," he said, his measured glance, searching her features. "I do believe, my sweet Kate, there is something more happening between you and moneybags." "Don't be ridiculous," replied Cath as pushed away from Raymond. "You did not see his face," Raymond explained. "Or feel your reaction to him. Let's just say if looks could kill, I'd be a dead man." "I'm just the help," Cath hedged. She had no idea what Raymond thought he read in Ian's expression. "He's probably annoyed that I'm being too familiar with his guest." "Hogwash!" Cath didn't feel like smiling as he threw back the same word she'd used the previous evening. She shrugged. She had no intention of getting into a discussion with Raymond about Ian's moods. "I think this deserves looking into," Raymond declared. "Yes, I do believe Anderson is going to be very jealous of the attention, I'm about to bestow on you, throughout the entire trip." "You're grasping at straws," Cath offered. She shield away from the thought of Ian being jealous. She groaned, shaking her head as tried to ignore the silly man, with the silly notions. But true to his word, Raymond stayed close, with two exceptions. First, when everyone was on deck for the trip out of the marina, through the waterway, under the Lion's Gate Bridge into the Strait of Georgia, and second, when he couldn't stop himself on climbing up to the main deck to check on Leigh, during lunch. While the others in the party enjoyed the sunshine and cool drinks, it was Raymond who kept her company. He, who got the salmon ready for the grill, while Cath prepared the olive and rice stuffing. He helped clean the shellfish for the bouillabaisse. He even whipped the dill butter. Cath was not only impressed, she was happy for the company. Raymond's constant chatter, kept her mind off the man guiding the yacht. Through it all her galley companion was never separated long from a drink. "It's too early to be drinking," she commented, when he reached to open a second bottle of wine. "You would start yourself, if you saw Leigh wrapped around your Ian," he scolded her. "He is not my Ian," she grounded out, more annoyed than she wanted to admit. She had taken one look at the gorgeous woman, clinging to Ian, as the craft left the pier and wanted desperately to jump back on land. "Sorry," he held up his arms in surrender. "I keep forgetting you didn't see the man's face, while I had my arms about you." "You're insane," Cath muttered. She ignored his innuendos as much as she could and concentrated on dinner. 7 A few hours later, in the early evening, the yacht docked at the town of Chemainus, on Vancouver Island. Cath had enjoyed the trip. She had stood on the aft deck, checking on the salmon and breathed in the damp scent off the water. Pleased at the outcome of the meal, Cath quietly served dinner. She heard the conversation drift to the possibility of a visit later to the famous murals in town. Since she had never visited the area, Cath hurried her own dinner and galley clean-up. Once everything was ship-shape, she took a well deserved cool shower and changed into an old pair of jeans and a white tee shirt. She waited for fifteen minutes after she heard the others leave, before she headed for the docks. A winding path through a park led into the downtown. Everywhere along the way was information on the history of the town. It was still light enough for Cath to enjoy the beautiful murals painted on the sides of businesses. Several depicting the early history of the town, covered entire walls of the town's buildings. Cath noticed the yacht's party up ahead and veered in another direction. Cath stopped and treated herself to a butter-scotch ice-cream cone. She browsed through the quaint shops opened for the summer crowds. Cath collected brochures to read later. Maybe she'd be back at some later date for a prolonged visit. There were a number of street singers entertaining the many evening strollers. Cath paused often to listen. It was dark when she finally turned back towards the water. Once on board, she turned quietly towards the stern, heading for the galley stairs, when she heard voices in the lounge. The yacht's party was probably having a night-cap. Cath had no intention of running into any of them. She stood near the aft doors, gazing at the stars, mentally ticking off the items for brunch the following day. She heard the elder Maynards retire. Cath got a cold drink, moving back to the darkened doorway. All was quiet, save the murmurs coming from the lounge upstairs. She could make out the high pitched voice of Leigh and the odd bark of drunken laughter from Raymond. Cath wondered why he tortured himself by remaining in the same room with the engaged couple. Try as she might, she could not hear Ian's voice. She did hear the stumble down the stairs, several moments later. Quickly she moved to the opposite door as the thump sounded. "Bloody hell." Cath smiled as the expletive from Raymond, echoed in the dimly lit hallway leading to the rooms. "Need some help?" she asked tongue in cheek. A smile lurking as she took in the lost little boy look of the grown man, sitting on the bottom step. "God yes, my sweet Kate," he moaned. "You were right, shouldn't drink so much." Cath helped him up. He swayed and they both almost ended slamming into the wall. By some miracle they stayed upright. "Which room?" Cath asked. "Dammed if I know," he muttered. It was Cath's turn to swear. "Sssshh," the drunken man raised an index finger to his pursed lips and missed by a mile. "Stop ...cussing," he hiccupped loudly. She rolled her eyes. She leaned the heavy man against the bulkhead and reached for the closest door. She gingerly opened it and peeked in. The soft glow from lamp on the bedside table showed a wind-breaker thrown across the bed. She'd seen Raymond wearing the jacket earlier. "Bingo," she whispered, unwilling to disturb the older couple. She led Raymond to the bed. He collapsed unto it. She quickly removed his shoes, straightening his legs on the bed. "Ah, come give me a good-night kiss, my sweet Kate," he said loudly. Startled, Cath was about to shush him when she noticed he was already asleep. Shaking her head she turned off the lamp and tiptoed into the hall. Cath quietly pulled the door shut and turned to head to the galley. She collided with a warm hard body. In one swift movement, she was spun around and pressed against the bulkhead and a deep, angry voice hissed in her ear. "Did you like his kisses as much as you liked mine?" Cath raised tormented eyes to Ian. They were in a dangerous situation. There, in the dimly lit hallway, the elder Maynards could walk in at any time. Or worst, Leigh could come down the stairs beside them. The two people pressed intimately against each other ignored all sane thoughts. Cath watched helplessly as the cold, hard look in Ian's eyes turned to blue fire. She remained motionless as he lowered his mouth to hers. His possession of her mouth was bruising, but Cath welcomed it. She had no idea she had been waiting her entire life for this moment. But she had. As the heat consumed her, Cath knew that somewhere, sometime, over the last few days, she had fallen in love with Ian Anderson. "Ian, are you coming up?" Leigh's quiet call from the lounge, had the desired effect on the two people locked in the passionate embrace. "Ye...yes." Cath crashed to earth. She became aware that Ian cleared his throat. His lips inched away from hers. "I'll be right there," he called up quietly. Cath realized he was desperately trying to control his rasping breaths. Each time he exhaled, the warm breath fanned erotically against her mouth. The lean hard body eased from hers. Cath mutely watched the man withdraw from her. With the now familiar action, she saw him rake his fingers through his hair. When a few feet separated them he reached out and gently brushed his fingers across her trembling lips. "What am I to do with you Red?" His husky whisper echoed around the shadowy hall, long after he climbed the stairs. 8 "It's useless," Cath whispered. Two weeks had passed since the trip. Fourteen endlessly, tiresome days. Cath didn't know enough about makeup to cover the bruising, dark shadows under her eyes. But the lack of sleep had put them there. And, the constant thoughts of Ian kept them from fading. "It's hopeless," she said to the open account books. "I just can't make heads or tails of you today." Cath slouched further into the comfortable chair. "Talking to yourself again, Cath," a grinning Maggie said, as she came through the office door. "Yep..." Cath couldn't bring herself to confide in her one true friend. What would she say? I've fallen in love with my very, wealthy client; the same, extremely engaged, Ian Anderson, a man I've only just met. Me. Lil ole me, who is afraid of my shadow. "Are you having problems with the books?" Maggie asked. "Er...ya, a little," Cath searched for something to divert Maggie. "Are you through for the day?" "Yes. Every delivery is completed," the happy woman quipped. "Do you need me for anything more?" "No," Cath answered quickly. "Why don't you take the rest of the day off?" "I just might do that," Maggie said. She leaned over and hugged Cath. "Why don't you do the same. You look awful," she commented, her gaze on Cath's face. "A rest is in order. You've been working too hard." "That sounds like the best offer I've had in days," Cath forced a happy note into her words. She hoped the false smile on her face wasn't too noticeable. "Good, it'll do..."Maggie's paused as the phone shrilled. Cath watched the woman reach for it. "Hello, Cooke's Catering. How may we feed you?" Maggie's greeting brought a genuine smile to Cath's lips. Maggie listened for a few moments. "Oh...yes...one moment, please." She raised her surprised glance to Cath. She covered the phone's mouthpiece with her free hand. "It's a man. I don't think I've ever head his voice before," Maggie explained. "But, he insisted on speaking to you." Cath never spoke to the customers. She shook her head, waving her hand in denial. "He said he would like to speak to his sweet Kate," Maggie's curiosity bubbled. Cath rose so quickly, the chair tipped over backwards. She reached to take the phone, ignoring the startled expression on Maggie face. "Hello." "Hello yourself, sweet Kate," Raymond's voice came through loud and clear in her ear. The sound of his voice touched Cath. It brought back memories. Memories too new and painful to think about. "How ...er..." Cath cleared the threatening lump in her throat. "How are you?" "I'll be a whole lot better, if you say you'll meet me for dinner, sweet Kate," Raymond's voice sounded strange. "What's the matter?" Cath inquired. "I... I have something to tell you. Will you have dinner with me?" Raymond asked. "When?" "This evening, if possible," Raymond informed her. "I'd love too," Cath didn't hesitate. She grabbed a pen as he gave her directions to the restaurant. "I'll see you around seven,... bye" she hung up slowly. A movement drew Cath's attention. Maggie leaned over to read Cath's writing. "What's this?" The older woman asked, pointing to the address. "I'm having dinner," Cath didn't elaborate. "With whom?" Maggie persisted. "A friend," Cath hedged. To put an end to the questions, she rose and reached for her bag. "Well, I'm off. You'll lock up won't you?" she exited the office not waiting for an answer. * * * Raymond was already seated when the maitre'd showed Cath to the reserved table in a quiet corner. He rose and came around to take her hands. His smile was a trifle sad. He shooed the hired helper away and seated Cath himself. "Thanks for coming on such short notice," he whispered in her ear, as he tucked her chair in close to the table. Cath remained silent until Raymond returned to his own seat. He surprised her. The reason she thought he looked different tonight, was the plain fact Raymond was sober. "How are you?" she asked. Before he could respond, the waiter approached. "Just bring us a bottle of champagne," Raymond ordered as he waved the man back. "Champagne?" Cath asked surprised. "We are celebrating." "What?" her curiosity aroused. Raymond eased back in his chair and searched her face. The once teasing smile was absent. He appeared ill. The colour non-existent on his pale features. "There is no easy way to say this," he began, "so I'll just be blunt." Raymond reached over and took her fingers in his grasp. "My sweet Kate, I've discovered I'm a coward. That is why I've decided to accept a job in Australia." 9 Shock made Cath remembered the awful Sunday on board 'The Odyssey'. With uncanny ability, Raymond guessed something significant had happened the previous night and he'd set out to discover what it might be. He seemed to sense Cath was close to breaking. And she was. Sleep had eluded her after the hallway encounter with Ian. The knowledge that she had stupidly allowed herself to fall in love with a man, not free to return her feelings, was too much to bear. She had cried endless tears. Cath had used her sunglasses as a shield the following day. Raymond had been curious, teasing her whenever the opportunity arose. It had been Raymond's questions to Ian about her, which had finally broken Cath's control. It began as she set out the brunch in the dinning room. "Just how long have you known the fair Kate?" Raymond's question was addressed to Ian. The question so startled Cath, she had almost dropped the dish of omelette in her hands. She had not once glanced in Ian's direction. He, in turn, seemingly ignored her. "Not long," came Ian's answer from behind a sailing magazine. "You mean it has only been a short while since she started catering for you," Raymond persisted. "No." "How long then?" "Why does it matter?" Leigh had joined the conversation. The elder couple was out on deck, enjoying the sunshine. "If it is that important to you, Raymond," Ian lowered the book, his gaze fixed on the other man, "Catherine's company has been catering to my firm for over two years." "But, you only met her, a short time ago?" Raymond continued undauntedly. Ian had once again hidden behind the raised reading material. "Yes." "How do you explain that?" Cath didn't wait to hear the answer. With a muffled scream choked in her throat, she fled. She had not turned around when she heard the steps following. But on her arrival in the galley, the floodgate burst. "I'm such a bastard, my sweet Kate," Raymond's voice reached her through her strangled sobs. When she couldn't seem to control the flow, she felt him gently tug her into his arms. Cath cried for all the wrong reasons. She wept for lost love. For falling for the impossible dream; For every thing except the fact that she was hurt; Deeply hurt and sorry for herself. "Forgive me," Raymond repeated over and over. "I'm feeling miserable, so I think everyone should pay. But," he continue softly, his lips in her hair, I had no call to pick on you. You, my sweet Kate, have been the one ray of sunshine on this disturbing trip." "Are you alright, Catherine?" Ian's voice, spoken softly somewhere behind her, had Cath tensing. She tried to pull away from Raymond, but he held her firmly. "I've been a horse's ass, Anderson, so I'm fixing it," he addressed the other man. Long after Ian's footsteps faded, Raymond held Cath. When her tears finally dried, she eased out of his embrace. He had remained with her until the termination of the cruise. In the end they had returned to being fast friends. Now, seated across the restaurant table from her sad faced new friend, his shocking statement brought the sting of tears. "Why are you going to Australia?" she finally asked. "I cannot stay in the same location as Leigh," he answered. "It would drive me insane if I had to constantly see her with Anderson." The waiter brought the champagne. Conversation ceased as he opened and poured the bubbly liquid into fluted glasses. "To my new life," Raymond lifted his glass to Cath, when the man moved off. Cath shook her head but slowly clinked her glass to Raymond's. They both drank. She took another sip. "Do you want to come with me?" She choked. Raymond's question took her by surprise. She raised startled, teary eyes to his. "What?" "Well, why not?" he stated. "It occurred to me that Sunday on the yacht, that you and I were doomed. It's as plain as the nose on your face that you're in love with Mr. Moneybags." "Are you insane," Cath was furious. How had she allowed her feelings to show? Raymond eyed her, then shook his head. He reached for his glass and downed its content. Cath fumbled with her handbag, extracting a tissue to dry her eyes. "I see you've decided to hide behind ignorance," Raymond commented. "Have it your way." After that the two settled down to enjoy the meal. Cath asked about the job in Australia. Raymond kept her entertained with the many Maynard business connections there. "It might not be that bad," he said, as he sipped his coffee, reluctantly returning to their first topic. "I'll meet someone else," he placed his cup on the table and clasped Cath hand, "since you won't have me. Maybe I'll marry this other woman, even though my love for..." he trailed off. Cath turned to see what had his attention. Her mouth went slack. Cobalt eyes collided and held her startled green gaze. Ian and Leigh moved in their direction. When they reached the table Ian's gaze left hers to move to her hand laying in Raymond's. For some unknown reason, unlike the last time, Cath left her hand where it lay. Ian's eyes returned to hers. They held a questioning look. "Hello Ray," the sound of Leigh's voice broke Cath's silent battle with Ian. Her eyes assessed the 'ravishing Leigh'. The woman also had her eyes on the clasped hands of Raymond and Cath. Without uttering another word, Leigh moved on. Ian followed. He had not acknowledged Raymond in word or look. Cath glanced at Raymond. He had a most confused look on his face. He remained silent for several minutes, obviously puzzled about something. "What?" Cath finally couldn't stand his silence another moment. "I wonder how they knew we were here." He didn't say another thing. He rose to leave, never once looking in the direction where the other couple was seated. 10 "I can't take it!" Cath was depressed. She hadn't slept in weeks. Her appetite had disappeared. And, she had become the most irritated person alive. "Dammed you, Maggie," Cath cursed. She threw the pencil down and pushed back from the desk. In one angry movement she wiped the desk-top clean of the account books. Cath's breathing became raspy. She braced her hands on the desk, and her weary body slumped. "I guess I should be thankful for small mercies," she hissed aloud. "At least the devil is out of town." There was a private luncheon meeting at Anderson's Architect offices today. Maggie was supposed to be delivering the catered meal soon. But, she couldn't. "Oh no, she couldn't," Cath lamented. "No... her car had to choose today to break down on the highway. Miles from the office - too far away for her to leave it, and take a taxi to work." Cath stared at the phone. The weapon of bad news. It just brought the news it had now become her job to deliver the meal instead of Maggie. Two days ago it had also relayed Raymond's good-byes. Cath was beginning to hate the phone. "Almost as much as I'm beginning to hate Ian Anderson," she whispered. Cath straightened. No use wallowing in self pity. She'd get the delivery done as quickly as possible and be forever grateful that the boss was out of town. "Darned," Cath stopped on her way to the door. She glanced down and groaned. Tee shirt, old jeans and scuffed running shoes. She'd forgotten how she was dressed. Well she didn't have a change of clothes, so to hell with it! * * * A short time later she was inside the board room at her client's office. Her mind did things automatically. No singing today. Which reminded her, Ian still had her baseball cap. She'd get Maggie to ask for its return. "Someone's mouse is entertaining while the cat's away," she muttered as she set the table for an intimate meal for two. The request had been specific, Cath recalled. Maggie had taken the details. Well, it was nothing to do with Cath, if one of Ian's employees played at love. That was exactly how the set-up unfolded. Right down to the beautiful ivory roses. The request was to lay them across one of the plates. Cath couldn't help smelling the lovely blossoms, before placing them on the plate. She stepped back. Very intimate. The table had the look of afternoon seduction. Cath felt, rather than heard the intrusion. She spun around and died a thousand deaths... Cobalt eyes held her body and breath suspended. The handsome devil came forward slowly. Cath felt she was about to faint. Ian stood inches from her and she wanted to escape, but her body had a different wish. It wanted to close the space between them. It wanted to press itself hard against him. Her mouth wanted, no, needed to taste him. She wanted again to feel alive in his arms. And still they eyed each other. Ian reached up and tugged at the scarf that tied her riotous red hair away from her face. Her hair spilled out. She felt him bury his hand in the thick mass. Mesmerized, she watch as he brought a few curls forward and rubbed them across his lips. Cath sucked in a breath. "Hello, Red," Ian whispered. She remained still. Shockwave rippled through her. Oh, but she was ready when Ian tilted her chin up and his mouth descended. "Ian?" Cath wanted answers, but for now she enjoy being in heaven. Her body got its wishes. Ian drew her tightly against him, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her again and again. When they eased apart to draw deep breaths, Ian rested his lips against her forehead. He hadn't released her and Cath stayed where she was. She enjoyed being in his arms. She'd gladly stay there forever. "There are two things I need to ask you," she heard Ian whisper against her hair. "What?" Cath mumbled. "First, will you marry me and second, will you have lunch with me?" "What...?" Cath tensed. She didn't think she had heard him right. She pushed away from the warm, hard, welcoming body. He resisted at first, but then allowed her enough space to look up at him. "Will you marry me, Red?" Ian repeated slowly, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. "Marry? ...you want...? but Leigh?" Cath trailed off in confusion. "Went to Australia to marry the man she's loved all her life," he finished matter-of-factly. "To Aus...to marry...I..?" Cath could not believe what she was being told. Ian used her confused state to hug her close. "Catherine, I'm in love with you. So much it hurts. I can't sleep! I can't eat! Will you please put me out of my misery and marry me?" he pleaded Cath would wait to get all her answers. But right now she knew she wanted only one thing. "Yes..yes..oh, yes!" she cried, hugging the wonderful man close. "I love you so much it hurts. I can't sleep... I can't eat, put me out of my misery," she repeated his words, laughter bubbling over. "That's my Red," Ian kisses her sweetly. "Remind me to thank Maggie soon for organizing all this," he asked when they could both breathe again. "Maggie?" Cath asked. "Yes. She guessed how I felt when I asked for you to do the delivery," he explained. "She also suspected you had strong feelings for me." "Trust Maggie. I can't hide anything from her," Cath smiled. "And Leigh left to marry Raymond?" she had to be sure. "Yes, I told her that night at the restaurant," he said. "By the way, Maggie told me where to find you, when I called." "Maggie again," Cath grinned. "Raymond also suspected I had feelings for you." Ian nodded. "I have much to thank him for. If he hadn't paid so much attention to you, Leigh wouldn't have come to her senses." Ian took her arm and led her over to the table. When Cath was seated he removed a beautiful diamond and emerald ring from his pocket. He kneeled. Ever so slowly he slipped it on her finger. "To the woman I love, happiness always, Red," Ian whispered, sealing the wish with a kiss. The End Volume 1 A Taste Of Tomorrow by Yasmin John-Thorpe CAD $3.50 or 5 for $15.00 + $3.50 (Postage) USD $3.00 or 5 for $13.00 + $3.50 (Postage) To order your copy, click HERE |
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