But he knew he’d stepped over a line with Olivia. She demanded her independence and he’d not respected her decision to sell her boat if that was what she chose to do.
He needed to fix his wrong. But how? He knew from experience she took that kind of behaviour very much to heart.
FIFTEEN
Olivia didn’t find it hard to avoid Jett for the rest of the evening because he seemed to be staying well away. She didn’t see him on the deck again when she walked there with a few guests to watch the yacht pass beneath the Tasman Bridge. Nor in the entertainment area when nightcaps were served. But it played on her nerves until they were stretched to breaking point as they tied up at the marina for the night. At last the final couple said goodnight and headed to bed and she breathed a sigh of relief.
He was waiting for her in the crew’s quarters, lying on a bunk, hands behind his head. The moment he caught sight of her, he tensed and pushed up, dominating the cramped space with his size. ‘You all right?’
No. ‘What were you thinking overriding me that way? I do not need you or anyone else telling me what to do. It’s my life, my choices.’ She didn’t want to know his reasons. For any of it. ‘I don’t want an argument, I—’
‘Which is why I’m leaving.’ He reached for his bag, hefted it over his shoulder.
‘Leaving?’ Olivia’s stomach dropped like a stone. ‘I just meant—’
‘It’s okay, skipper.’ He smiled but it wasn’t the brash, confident Jett she knew and respected.
And loved.
‘I know you don’t want a scene,’ he continued as he sidestepped past her in the narrow space between bunks on his way out. ‘And this isn’t the time or place.’ He dropped a feather-soft kiss on her brow. ‘The evening was a well-deserved success for Pink Snowflake. Congratulations.’
She wanted to put her arms around his neck and tell him she hadn’t meant to jump all over him like that the moment she’d seen him, like some nag. She wanted to say sorry and ask him to stay but she knew he was right, there was too much unresolved tension between them, and nothing could be resolved here tonight within earshot of others. ‘I couldn’t have done it without you,’ she said to his back.
He turned at the doorway and smiled that tired kind of smile again. ‘Sure you could.’
* * *
She barely slept. The night seemed interminable. She blamed the narrow bunk but she missed the feel of Jett’s warm body beside hers. His last words echoed in her head with the faraway look in his eyes. Sure you could.
What had he meant by that? Was it a genuine belief in her abilities or was it her cue to go it alone? The truth was she didn’t want to do it alone. Not any more. She’d miss his confidence and his culinary skills, the way he made her laugh and forget her problems. She’d miss their robust discussions.
She’d miss him.
The more she thought about the evening, the more she knew he was letting her down gently. He was leaving. The necklace was a parting gift. His talk about the chef’s position and the retreat being a reality sooner than she thought...he meant the foundation was growing quicker than they’d expected, that was all. That he wouldn’t be needed; it was time to move on.
And she was ready. Her heart was breaking but she was prepared. She didn’t want to do it alone, but she could. She would.
It was almost a relief to get up and check that everything had been cleared away to her satisfaction and check that the informal breakfast had been set out before the catering crew had left.
She’d arranged to meet the owner and his wife, Joe and Tessa McPherson, for coffee at nine a.m. in the hotel, so she wasn’t expecting them to board while she was still breakfasting with the guests at seven-thirty.
‘Joe, Tessa. Good morning to you.’ She rose to meet the well-dressed couple. ‘Did I get the times wrong?’
‘No.’ Joe beamed at her, his ruddy complexion glowing. ‘Tess and I wanted to make sure to catch you before you all left. We have a little something for you.’ He drew a piece of paper from the inside pocket of his navy jacket. ‘We believe in the Pink Snowflake Foundation and what you’re doing. You blew me away with your enthusiasm on Christmas Eve—Tess’ll tell you I kept her awake half the night talking about it. I love a good cause.’
Olivia smiled. ‘So do I. Sorry, Tessa, if I was the reason for you not getting a good night’s sleep.’
‘No problem.’ Tessa smiled back, her carefully styled blonde hair glinting in the morning sun that slanted through the windows.
Joe exchanged a fond glance with his younger wife. ‘She and I had a talk,’ he went on. ‘We loved the philosophy behind the name—individuals together making a difference. We’d like to be a part of your retreat. And we’d like to see it built in the next six months rather than the next fifty years, so we’re giving you a head start.’ He handed Olivia a cheque made out to the Pink Snowflake Foundation.