‘Can I ask you something?’
Wariness crossed his face and left behind a guarded expression. ‘You can ask...’
‘Why did you call me to an interview?’
Silence yawned and Ruby’s breath caught. Foolish hope that he had wanted to make amends for the past unfurled.
‘Everyone is entitled to a chance,’ he said finally. ‘And everyone deserves a second one.’
The words were a deep rumble, and fraught with a connotation she couldn’t grasp.
‘Sleep well, Ruby. We’ve got a lot of work ahead.’
The door clicked shut behind him and Ruby sank down onto the bed.
Enough. Don’t analyse. Don’t think. Don’t be attracted to him. In other words, don’t repeat the mistakes of the past.
Ethan Caversham had offered her a chance and she wouldn’t let the jerk of attraction mess that up. Wouldn’t kid herself that it was more than that—more like a bond between them. Ruby shook her head—this was an aftermath...an echo of her ancient crush on the man. Because he’d rescued her again.
Only this time it had to play out differently. Instead of allowing the development of pointless feelings and imaginary emotional connections she would concentrate on the job at hand. Get through the trial period, secure the job as a permanent post and then she would be back on track. Heading towards her goal of a family.
One week later
Ethan gave a perfunctory knock and pushed the door open. Ruby looked up from her paper-strewn makeshift desk in the box room where she’d set up office. His conscience panged at her pale face and the dark smudges under her eyes. She’d worked her guts out these past days and he’d let her. More than that—he’d encouraged it.
Get a grip, Ethan.
That was what he paid her to do—to work and work hard. He had high expectations of all his employees and made no bones about it. Ruby was no different.
Sure. Keep telling yourself that, Ethan. Say it enough times and maybe it will become true.
‘Earth to Ethan. I was about to call you with an update. I’ve got delivery dates for the furniture for the banqueting hall and I’ve found a mural painter. I’ve mocked up some possible uniforms—black and red as a theme—and...’
‘That’s all sounds great, but that’s not why I’m here. There’s something else I need you to do.’
‘Okay. No problem. Shoot.’
‘Rafael Martinez is coming for dinner and I need you to rustle us up a meal.’
Her dark eyebrows rose. ‘Rafael Martinez—billionaire wine guru, owner of the vineyard of all vineyards—is coming for dinner? Why on earth didn’t you mention it before?’
‘Because I didn’t know. I’d scheduled to meet him later this month, but he called to say he’s in the UK and that tonight would suit him. I realise it’s not ideal. But Rafael and I are...’
Old friends? Nope. Acquaintances? More than that. Old schoolmates? The idea was almost laughable—he and Rafael had bunked off more school than they had attended.
‘We go back a while.’
‘Maybe you should take him out somewhere?’
‘I’d rather discuss business in private. But if it’s too much for you...?’
He made no attempt to disguise the challenge in his tone, and she made no attempt to pretend she didn’t hear it, angling her chin somewhere between determination and defiance.
‘Leave it with me.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘I’m sure.’
‘Look on this as a test of your ability to handle a restaurant crisis.’
‘Yippee. An opportunity!’
A snort of laughter escaped his lips. ‘That’s the attitude. I’ll leave you to it.’
Whilst he figured out the best way to approach Rafael with his proposition... Rafael Martinez was known more for his playboy tendencies and utterly ruthless business tactics than his philanthropic traits. But Ethan had been upfront in his preliminary approach—had intimated that his agenda was a business deal with a charitable bent—and Rafael had agreed to meet. Somehow it seemed unlikely that he’d done so to reminisce over the bad old days of their more than misguided youth.
He’d reached the doorway when he heard Ruby’s voice. ‘Actually... I’ve had an idea...’
Ethan turned. ‘Go ahead.’
‘Okay. So it’s best if you eat in the bar—it’s a pretty impressive room, and I think we should make it a little bit Christmassy.’
‘Christmassy?’ Somehow the idea of Christmas and Rafael didn’t exactly gel. ‘I don’t think so, Ruby. My guess is that Rafael is even less enamoured with the schmaltz of Christmas than me.’
A shake of her dark head and an exaggerated sigh. ‘I’m not suggesting schmaltz. If we were open we would be playing the Christmas card—of course we would.’ For a second a hint of wistfulness touched her face. ‘Can’t you picture it? An enormous tree. Garlands. Twinkling lights—’ She broke off and frowned. ‘I assume all your other business ventures offer Christmas deals and a proper Christmas ambience?’
‘Yes, but I don’t do it myself.’
He wouldn’t have the first clue how—he hadn’t celebrated Christmas Day in the traditional sense since...since Tanya was alive.
For a second he was transported back to childhood. His sister had loved Christmas...had made it magical—she had made him help her make paper chains and decorate the tree, and although he’d protested they’d both known the protest to be half-hearted. She’d chivvied their mum into the festive spirit and the day had always been happy. But after Tanya... Well, best not to go there.
‘To be honest, I’m not much of a Christmas type of guy. And I’m pretty sure Rafael isn’t either.’
‘Well, luckily for you I’m a Christmas type of gal. I’m thinking a tasteful acknowledgement of the time of year so that Rafael Martinez gets an idea of how Caversham Castle would showcase his wine. The Martinez Vineyards offer plenty of Christmas wines. Plus, if we do it right the whole Christmas edge might soften him up.’
Difficult to imagine, but given he hoped to appeal to Rafael’s charitable side maybe it was worth a shot. And he believed in encouraging staff initiative and drive.
‘Knock yourself out,’ he said.
‘Fabulous. I’ll hit the shops.’
* * *
Ruby crouched down and carefully moved the small potted tree a couple of centimetres to the left of the hearth. She inhaled the scent of fir and soil and felt a small glow of satisfaction at a job well done. Or at least she thought so—Ethan clearly had reservations about the whole Christmas idea, and her research into Rafael Martinez had shown her why.
Like Ethan Caversham, he had a reputation for ruthlessness, and an internet trawl had revealed images of a man with a dark aura. Midnight hair, tall, with a dominant nose and deep black eyes. Unlike Ethan, he’d left a score of girlfriends in his wake—all glamorous, gorgeous and very, very temporary. For a second Ruby dwelled on Ethan, and curiosity about his love-life bubbled. But it was none of her business.
He’s your boss, nothing more.
‘Hey.’
Ruby leapt up and swivelled round. Chill, Ruby. Ethan was many things, but he was not a mind-reader.