Page 13 of Slow Simmer

Chapter Seven

“Hey,” Nessa said in surprise as Suzannah slid onto a stool at the pool bar. “Don’t often see you here.”

“It’s my day off,” Suzannah said, a little crossly. “Why shouldn’t I be here?”

“No reason.” Nessa shrugged. “Just that I haven’t seen you down here in a couple months. And I know I’m working fewer days now, but still. You used to come down in the quiet hour after lunch, sometimes, grab a cool drink and shoot the breeze before heading back to start dinner prep.”

“A cool drink sounds good, I’ll take a fruit punch,” Suzannah said pointedly, making Nessa laugh.

“Whatever the reason, it’s good to see you.” She set the tall glass in front of Suzannah and leaned on the bar, smiling at her warmly.

Suzannah’s cross mood evaporated, and she smiled back. “You, too.” She took a long sip of her drink before admitting “I’ve been run off my feet lately, but being able to hand over the pastry kitchen has made a huge difference. I don’t know what to do with all this extra time I’ve suddenly got!”

“Talking of your new pastry chef,” a voice said, and Suzannah turned her head to see her friend Jill taking the seat beside her, “holy macaroni, he’shot.”

A pretty Chinese-Australian a couple of years younger than Suzannah, Jill had the tricky job of guest relations manager, which she always said with a dry smile meant ‘troubleshooter and general kicker of asses’. She spoke fluent Mandarin and Japanese and enough to get by in half a dozen other languages, including Suzannah’s native French, which she often asked if she could practice with her.

“You know he’s Italian, right? He’ll probably give you language coaching if you ask,” Nessa suggested, pouring Jill a drink too.

“He can coach me in anything he likes,” Jill sighed dreamily, staring past Suzannah with something a lot like naked lust on her face. “Justlookat those abs!”

Slowly, almost dreading what she knew she would find, Suzannah turned to look.

Carlo stood beside the pool, clearly having just emerged from a swim. His dark hair sleek with water, droplets slid down his chest and shoulders, tracing a path down to navy blue board shorts which clung to him like a second skin. He was talking to two teenage girls who were clearly hanging on his every word, staring at him raptly.

He was well worth a few stares, Suzannah admitted to herself privately. Her memory hadn’t done him justice, or maybe it was just that he’d filled out some with muscle in the years since she last saw him. Naturally olive-skinned due to his Italian heritage, he was all lean muscle under smooth skin, strong and defined.

She wanted to trace the path of the water droplets over his pecs and abs with her tongue.

Shocked and angry at herself, Suzannah twisted back around to the bar and grabbed up her drink, draining it quickly and setting the glass down again. Nessa was watching her with knowing dark eyes.

“He’s seriously sexy, Suzannah. You two have some history? He can’t take his eyes off you, you know.”

“Nonsense,” Suzannah said far too quickly. “Rubbish. That’s ridiculous.”

Nessa was laughing at her, and Jill said teasingly “Methinks the lady doth protest too much. You won’t mind if I have a crack at him, then?”

For a moment, Suzannah saw red. She had to take a deep breath to make herself say “Have at it,” and even to her own ears she sounded utterly unconvincing.

Jill began to laugh too. “Even if I believed for a second you meant that,” she got out through her giggles, “I’d be wasting my time.”

“There’s always a lot of competition for Carlo’s attention, but you’re more than pretty enough to catch his eye,” Suzannah disagreed, not wanting Jill to put herself down even if the thought of the two of them together did make her feel sick with jealousy.

Nessa laughed harder. Jill sobered, shaking her head, and reached out to put her hand on Suzannah’s arm.

“That’s really kind of you to say, honey, but what I meant was, it wouldn’t matter if I looked like Margot Robbie. He’d still be staring at you.”

“He’s not…” Suzannah trailed off. Jill was giving her a very pointed stare, and then she tilted her head very slightly to the left.

Suzannah’s head turned almost against her will. Carlo was approaching at a quick walk, eyes fixed on her, a smile on his handsome face.

“Hey,” he said cheerfully, slipping onto the vacant stool on her other side.

“What are you doing here?” As soon as the words slipped out, Suzannah wanted to take them back.

Carlo’s brows went up, and his smile slipped slightly. “Taking a break after the lunch rush,” he said. “Samira is doing some very delicate hand-painting work on the cake for tomorrow’s wedding, and everything is well in hand for tonight’s menu. Is there something you needed me to look after in the main kitchen?”

Well aware she’d been ungracious, Suzannah shook her head. “No, no. I was just surprised to see you here, that’s all.”

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