Читать книгу An Island Affair - Monica Richardson - Страница 15

Chapter 6

Jasmine

The old wood on the kitchen floor had been revived. The walls had been sanded but not painted yet. The only appliance was an antique gas stove, which needed to be cleaned. I rolled up my sleeves, put on a pair of rubber gloves and commenced to clean it. I had my work cut out for me, and it took the better part of the morning to get the stove to usable condition.

As a gesture of goodwill, I’d decided to prepare lunch for Jackson’s team. It was impulsive, I knew it, but I wanted to show them how much I appreciated them for tending to all my little requests. Jackson hadn’t been the friendliest person, but his guys had been more than helpful and accommodating since they’d started work on the Grove. They’d moved things around and carried heavy furniture to places where I needed it. I’d chatted with a few of them during their smoke breaks, given advice about women, laughed at their jokes. We’d become great friends in a short time, to Jackson’s dismay. Occasionally he’d walk past while I joined them during their breaks and scowl at us. Every one of them expressed that Jackson was a workhorse and needed to loosen up, but despite that, they had the utmost respect for the man who paid them very well and loved them like family.

“He has a hard exterior, but a big heart,” said Jorge one afternoon while taking a puff on his Marlboro. “Last Christmas when I was having a hard time financially, Mr. Conner bought Christmas gifts for all four of my children. Dirt bikes, Tonka trucks, dolls, a PlayStation...even clothing. He left it all on our back porch on Christmas Eve. Sent me a text message and told me to go look outside. It meant the world to me and my wife. It was a great gesture.”

“When my mother was about to lose her home, Mr. Conner made a few calls to some of his buddies at City Hall and turned everything around for her,” said Diego. “She makes him pulpeta at least once a month.”

“Pulpeta?” I asked.

“Cuban meat loaf,” Diego said matter-of-factly. “Meat loaf is his favorite.”

I was startled to hear all of the admirable things that Jackson had done for his employees, particularly since I hadn’t seen that side of him. The side of Jackson that I’d experienced had been far from admirable.

I finished cleaning the old stove. Then I fired it up to make the men an authentic Caribbean lunch. I prepared conch salad, conch fritters, Bahamian spiced chicken and cassava bread. On the old folding table Jorge had pulled out of the closet for me I placed the platters on a crisp white tablecloth along with two candles and fresh flowers in a vase that I’d found.

I plugged my docking station into the wall and searched for a nice Caribbean playlist. Something upbeat and contemporary. I found a nice mix of Caribbean rhythms and pumped up the volume.

“It’s time!” I yelled.

“Time for what?” Lance removed his hard hat and gave me a wide grin. A tall, light brown, thin man, Lance was a flirt, and I was careful not to give him false hope.

“I prepared lunch for everyone,” I told him.

“Really?”

“Yes, and it’s getting cold. So, let’s go!”

“Jackson ran out for a bit,” Lance explained. “Had to meet with a supplier.”

“It’s okay. We’ll put a plate aside for him.”

“I don’t know if he’ll appreciate us eating and listening to music and stuff on the job...”

“You’re not allowed to eat and listen to music on your lunch break? You do get a lunch break, don’t you?” I asked. “US labor laws require that you get at least thirty minutes. I’m sure Bahamian laws are much looser.”

“We do get a lunch break. It’s just that it’s still early. We don’t usually break until around one.”

“So make an exception today. What’s the big deal?”

Lance looked around as if he was contemplating my question. Then loudly he made the announcement to his crew. The men slowly began to gather in the dining room.

“Miss Talbot made lunch for us...” he began.

“Jasmine,” I corrected him. “I’m just Jasmine.”

“Jasmine made lunch for us. And we’re going to break a little early,” said Lance. “But thirty minutes is it, guys. Then it’s back to work.”

As soon as he made the announcement, the men went for the food like gluttonous beasts, piling up their plates as if they hadn’t eaten in days. As they ate, I began to move my hips to the music, even sang some of the words. Although I’d never been much of a singer, I didn’t let that stop me. I knew how to have fun. Jorge started dancing with me, balancing a plate of food in his hand, and before long, everyone was moving at least one or more parts of his body.

“I like how you move, girl!” said Tristan, the blond young man who’d only recently graduated high school. Laughter filled the room at his remark. “I wish I was a little older.”

“And what would you do if you were older, Tristan?” I teased.

“I’d make you my wife.” He grinned. “You’re beautiful!”

“And you are a sweetheart,” I said. “Come dance with me.”

“Tristan can’t dance,” said Diego. “He has two left feet.”

“Of course he can dance,” I insisted. “There’s no right or wrong, as long as you’re having fun.”

I motioned for Tristan to join me on our makeshift dance floor—a small area just between the kitchen and dining area. He found his way to me and started moving, but he was so focused on his feet that he looked as if he was in pain.

“Don’t look at your feet, honey. Just let your body move with the music. Just be free with it.”

“Like this?” he asked, his hips still stiff.

“Keep trying. You’ll get it.” I closed my eyes and continued to sway.

Suddenly the music stopped and I opened my eyes to see Jackson standing across the room, a frown on his face.

“What the hell is this?” he asked.

“Why did you unplug my music?” I ignored his question and asked my own. I was livid.

“Lance, what is this?” Jackson ignored me. Instead he turned to Lance, who looked like a cat who’d swallowed a canary.

“It’s called lunch.” I said it so Lance didn’t have to.

“I was speaking to my construction manager, if you don’t mind.”

“Frankly I do mind,” I said. “The men are entitled to a lunch break, aren’t they?”

“Yes, but on my terms. Not yours.”

“So you decide when grown men eat lunch?” I asked.

“I’m done having this conversation with you,” said Jackson and then he turned to his men. “Finish up and get back to work!”

He gave me a look of dismay and then pulled Lance aside. He was cool and calm, but he appeared to be giving his construction manager a reprimand. I felt sorry for Lance. The men slowly started to move back to their working positions.

“Thanks for lunch, Miss Talbot,” said Diego. “Everything was delicious.”

Tristan kissed my cheek. “You’re a great cook and a great dancer.”

“You’re going to make some man very happy someday, mi querida.” Jorge gave me a wink and a warm smile.

“Thank you, baby.” I pressed my hand against Jorge’s rugged face.

“May I speak with you, Jasmine?” asked Jackson.

He didn’t wait for my response, just stormed past me. I followed the very angry man into the kitchen, and once we were both there, he turned to face me.

“I think we would get along much better if you would allow me to handle my staff. I’m very close to asking you to leave this property.”

“Excuse me?” I frowned. “You don’t have the authority to ask me to leave this property. In case you’ve forgotten, this is my family’s property. Therefore, you work for my family. Thus, you work for me. Not the other way around.”

“For your information, I do have authority here. I have a stake in this property. I’ve invested a considerable amount of my own assets into this project.”

“Let’s get one thing straight, Jackson Conner. You might control those men out there, but you sure don’t control me. I can do whatever I please, and there’s nothing you can say or do about it.”

“I’m not trying to control you, but I am trying to run a business and I can’t have my men all over the place. We’re here to work, not dance to Caribbean music and party in the middle of the afternoon. This isn’t Hollywood. This is real life. And you should take it more seriously.”

“Maybe you should take it less seriously,” I said. “How dare you judge me?”

“I’m not judging you. Only speaking the truth,” he said. “Maybe if you’d taken your education more seriously, you’d be working at some high-level company right now and not here cramping my style.”

“You don’t know anything about me, you pompous...arrogant...”

He walked out of the kitchen before I could finish my sentence, and I followed.

“Don’t you dare walk away while I’m still talking!”

“This conversation is over, Miss Talbot.”

“Oh, you can dish it out, but you can’t take it when someone else gives it to you,” I said.

“Stay away from my men, or I’ll have you removed from this property.”

“You just try it.”

He continued to walk out the front door, although I had so much more to say. My blood began to boil, and my heart pounded. My hands were balled into tight fists. I hated him. Wanted to punch him in the face. Wanted to kick him in places where it hurt. Wanted to tackle him to the floor. Wanted to wipe that gorgeous smile and those beautiful eyes from my mind. Wanted to kiss those horribly sexy lips—and I hated myself for even thinking it.

* * *

I spent the remainder of the afternoon cleaning the kitchen and putting food away. Busywork always helped me to calm down. I just wanted to stay out of Jackson’s way and avoid another confrontation with him.

His presence was totally unexpected when he showed up in the kitchen.

“Jasmine.” His voice startled me. “I’m heading out for the day. I just wanted to say good-night and to tell you...um... I wanted to apologize for earlier. I was out of line and said some things that I probably shouldn’t have said. I’m sorry.”

I was shocked by his apology. Speechless. Before he came in, I was ready to give him the you-don’t-know-what-you’re-talking-about speech and the who-do-you-think-you-are-anyway speech. There were so many things I’d planned to say the next chance I got—most of which were no longer appropriate, because Jackson Conner had called a truce.

I simply said, “Apology accepted.” I was never one to hold grudges. Grudges only kept the grudge-holder in bondage, and I didn’t want that.

“Good night, then, Miss Talbot,” he said and walked away.

I packed up the last of the leftovers from lunch and placed them into my picnic basket. Without a refrigerator, the food wouldn’t survive until the next day, so I decided to take it home to my family. I caught a cab to the water taxi and soon found my way home to Governor’s Harbour. It had been a long, interesting day and I couldn’t wait to see what tomorrow had in store. Couldn’t wait to see if Jackson Conner would surprise me again. Wondered if he’d have a kind word or a nice gesture. It was certainly something to look forward to.