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THREE

Tea, glorious tea. A celebration of teas from around the world.

There are many different kinds of tea, but they are all derived from just one type of plant: Camellia sinensis. The colour and variety of the tea (green, black, white and oolong) depends on the way the leaves are treated once they are picked.

From Flynn’s Phantasmagoria of Tea

Wednesday

‘So how are you enjoying being back in London?’ Rob Beresford’s voice echoed out from the computer screen in his usual nonchalant manner. His eyebrows lifted. ‘Same old madness?’

‘Nothing that boring.’ Sean snorted and pointed to the bags under his eyes. ‘Still shattered. Still jet-lagged. Still wading through the mess Frank Evans got himself into at Richmond Square. I still can’t believe that the man we trusted to run our hotel just took off and left this disaster for someone else to sort out.’

Sean’s half-brother sat back in his chair and gave a low cough. ‘Now, who does that remind me of? Oh yes, your ex-girlfriend. I caught up with the lovely Sasha at the catering-strategy forum last week. She asked me to say hi, by the way. Now, wasn’t that sweet? Considering that she dumped you with zero notice. I could almost dislike her if it wasn’t for her fantastic figure.’ Rob gave a low, rough sigh. ‘And that tan... She’s looking good, brother. The Barbados hotel seems to be suiting her very nicely and the clients love her.’

‘Thanks for the update.’ Sean coughed and then squinted towards the computer screen. ‘And she did not dump me. It simply wasn’t working out for either of us. Trying to co-ordinate our diaries so that we were in the same time zone for more than a few days had stopped being funny a long time before we called it a day. You know what chaos it was last year! You were there, working the same hours as I was.’

Sean turned back to shuffling through a file on the desk. Sasha had been on the fast-track Beresford Hotels management programme and he had been working so hard that he hadn’t even noticed that they barely saw one another face to face any more.

Until he’d come back to her apartment at one a.m., exhausted after two weeks on the road solving all the teething problems for a hotel opening, to find Sasha sitting waiting for him.

He had just missed her birthday dinner, the one he had promised that he would be there for. Not even the private jet could fly in tropical storms.

It was a pity that it hadn’t been the first time that he’d missed her birthday. They had both worked like crazy over the Christmas and New Year holiday, but February should have been down time. Until the new hotel they were opening in Mexico had flooded only days before the grand opening and a holiday became a distant memory.

They had talked through the night but in the end there had been no escaping the truth. He was the operations troubleshooter and Tom Beresford’s son. It was his job to be on stand-by and cope with emergencies. No matter what else was happening in his life. Or who. And she’d wanted more than he was prepared to give her.

It had been crunch time. He could either decide to give her the commitment she needed and deserved or they could walk away as friends who had enjoyed a fun and light hearted relationship and leave it like that.

He had not even bothered to unpack.

‘Ah, but I still managed to find the time to enjoy the company of a few lovely ladies,’ Robert replied. ‘Unlike some people. But that’s past history. So last year! Come on; you were in Australia for six weeks scouting for new locations! You must have spent some time at the beach.’

Robert Beresford sat back with his hands clasped behind his head. ‘I am having visions of lovely ladies in very small bikinis on golden sands and surf boards. Classy. You have just made my day.’

‘I know. I can see you drooling from here,’ Sean shook his head. ‘That was the plan. Two glorious weeks in Melbourne in February. Two weeks to sleep, soak up the sun and generally have some down time before starting the Paris assignment.’

He waved the conference-booking file at the screen. ‘That was the plan. And now I am in London instead. Remind me again why I am the one who gets called in to pick up the pieces when the brown stuff hits the fan?’

‘Who else is the old man going to call? I am only interested in the food and drink side of this crazy business, remember? There has to be someone in the family who can squeeze into a super-hero costume and fly in to save the day and Annika is way too stylish to wear underpants over her tights.’

Sean laughed out loud and flicked open the event files. ‘Now, that is just being mean. I caught those last restaurant reviews. The food critics are crazy about that new fusion franchise you brought in. Kudos.’

Rob saluted him with a hat-tip. ‘I’ll tell you all about it when we meet up for the conference on Friday. Right? And try and relax. You’ll have that mess sorted out by then. You always do. Shame that you can’t take some down time before starting the new job. But you never know. You might find some sweet distraction while you are in London.’

Then Sean’s gaze caught the lilac envelope that he had popped onto his desk to be filed. He quickly stole a glance at the file he had updated the minute he had got back to his hotel room the previous evening. Complete with the photo of Dee he had clipped from a London newspaper article from the previous October about the opening of Lottie’s Cake Shop and Tea Rooms.

The two girls were standing outside the cake shop in what looked to be a cold autumn day.

Dee grinned out to the photographer with a beaming smile which was a lot warmer than the one he had been on the receiving end of. But her colour scheme was just as alarming.

She was wearing a short, pleated green skirt in a loud check-pattern tweed and a knitted top in fire-engine red partly covered with a pretty floral apron. Her blonde friend, Lottie, was in navy trousers and top with the same apron and compared to Dee looked elegant, sedate and in control while Dee looked...like a breath of fresh air. Animated, excited and alive.

That was the strange thing. Even in a digital scan from a newspaper this girl’s energy and passion seemed to reach out from the flat screen, grab him and hold him tight in her grasp. She was looking at him right in the eyes. Just as she had in the flesh. No flinching or nervous sideways glances. Just single-minded focus, with eyes the colour of spring-green leaves; it was quite impossible to look away.

But not cold. Just the opposite, in fact. Even when she’d been challenging him to come up with a replacement venue that sexy smile was warm enough to turn up the heat on a cold winter’s evening. Or was it that slippery one-shoulder sweater that she had been almost wearing?

He had vowed never to get involved in another relationship after Sasha, and no amount of bar crawling with Rob had persuaded him to change his mind. But there was something about Dee that seemed to get under his skin and he couldn’t shake it off.

Maybe it was getting very up close to a client when he had no clue who she was?

It was usual practice in Beresford hotels for the conference manager to take a photo of their client so that the team could recognize who they were dealing with.

Sean blinked and cricked back his neck, which was stiff from stress and lack of sleep. Jet lag. That was it. He had a workload which was not funny and two weeks in London before heading to his new job in Paris. He didn’t have time to sort out double bookings and track down conference space in the London hotels.

If only Frank had followed procedures!

‘You wouldn’t be calling me Superman if you had seen me last night,’ he chuckled, then blinked and looked up at the monitor, where Rob was tapping his pen and looking at him with a curious expression.

‘Do tell.’

‘A girl with green eyes and a wicked judo throw brought me to my knees. That’s all I am going to say.’

Rob snorted and sat forward with his elbows on the desk, and that gleam in his eyes which had got both of them into trouble on more than one occasion. ‘Now that really is being mean. I need facts, a photograph and vital statistics. Sounds like the kind of girl I would like to meet. In fact, here is an idea—free, gratis and no charge. Bring this green-eyed fiend to the management dinner on Friday night. If you think you can handle it? Or should I have security on standby?’

‘What...so you can ogle the poor girl all evening? No way.’

‘Then give me something to report back to Annika in the way of gossip. You know she is always trying to set me up with her pals. It’s about time our sister focused on you for a change. Are you planning on seeing this girl again?’

Sean checked the clock on the computer screen.

‘As a matter of fact, I am meeting up with her this morning. Our latest client has given me a mission and I have a feeling that this lady is not going to fobbed off with anything but the best. In fact, come to think of it, I might need that super-hero costume after all.’

* * *

‘How about this one?’ Dee called out as Lottie swept by with a tray of vanilla-cream pastry slices. ‘“Flynn’s Phantasmagorian Emporium of Tea”.’

Then she leant back and peered at the words she had just written in chalk on the ‘daily specials’ blackboard next to the tea and coffee station.

‘It has a certain ring to it and I can just see it on a poster. Maybe dressed up in a Steampunk theme. I like it!’

Lottie gave two short coughs, continued filling up the tiered cake stand on the counter then waved to two of their favourite breakfast customers as they strolled out onto the street.

‘You also liked “Flynn’s Special Tea Time Fantasies”, until I pointed out that some folks might get the wrong idea and think you are selling a different kind of afternoon fantasy experience where you are not wearing much in the way of clothing. And I don’t know about you, but I am not quite that desperate to sell your leaf teas.’

‘Only people with that kind of mind.’ Dee tutted. ‘Shame on a nice well-brought-up girl like you for thinking such things.’

‘Just trying to keep you out of mischief. Again.’

Dee felt the weight of an unexpected extra layer of guilt settle on her shoulders and she slipped off her stool and gave Lottie a one-armed hug. She had been so focused on organizing the festival that Lottie had done a lot more work than she should have done in the shop. ‘Thanks for putting up with me. I know I can be a tad obsessive now and then. I don’t know what I would have done without you these past months. Organizing this tea festival has already taken so much of my time; I’m sure that you have done more than your fair share in the shop.’

‘That’s okay.’ Lottie grinned and hugged her back. ‘It takes one obsessive to know one, right? Why else do you think I came to you the minute I had the idea for a cake shop? I needed someone who loved tea.’

Lottie stood back and nodded towards the blackboard with the daily specials. ‘Tea. Cake. Gotta be a winner.’ Then she turned back to the cake stand. ‘Turns out that I was right.’

‘Any chance that you could sprinkle some of that business-fairy dust in this direction? I am going to need something to give my own special blend of afternoon tea that special oomph, or I’ll never make any money out of the tea festival.’

Dee slumped down on her stool and stared out at the breakfast customers who were slurping down her English breakfast tea with Lottie’s almond croissants and ham and cheese paninis.

Lottie strolled over and sat down next to her before replying. ‘I know that I promised not to get involved, because we agreed that it is important that you do this on your own, but what about all of the exhibitors who will be selling their teas and chinaware and teapots and special tea kettles and the like? Surely they’re giving you a fee or a cut in any sales they make on the day?’

‘They are. But it’s just enough to cover the money I spent on the deposit for the hotel. Beresford is really expensive, even for one day. But I thought that a big international hotel chain like Beresford wouldn’t let me down, so it was worth paying for the extra security just to make that there wouldn’t be any last minute hassles with the venue. Hah! Wrong again.’

Dee started tapping her tea spoon on the counter. ‘After Mr B left I called Gloria to ask if the church hall might be available. The ladies’ lunch club loved my last demonstration on tea tasting. I thought that Gloria could put a good word in for me and I might even get it for free. But do you know what? Even the church hall is fully booked for the rest of the month.’

‘I thought you said that it was damp and there were mouse droppings in the kitchen,’ Lottie replied as she cut two large slices from a coffee-walnut layer cake and tastefully arranged them on the cake stand.

‘Yes and yes. Small details. But that settles it; Sean Beresford is going to have to find me a mega replacement venue. Whether he likes it or not.’

‘Well, you did have one bonus. The lovely Sean. In the flesh. I didn’t think that the millionaire heirs to the Beresford hotel chain turned up in person to break bad news, so he scores a few points on the Rosemount approval board. And, oh my—tall, dark and handsome does not come close. And he seemed very interested in you. I think that you might be on to a winner there.’

The memory of a pair of sparkling blue eyes smiling down at her tugged at the warm and cuddly part of Dee’s mind and her traitorous heart gave just enough of a flutter to make her cover up her smirk with a quick sniff.

Dee pressed her lips together and shook her head. ‘Charlotte Rosemount, you are such a total romantic. Can I remind you where that has taken us in the past? I lost track of the number of frogs we had to kiss back at catering college before you finally admitted that not one of those boys was a prince. And then you had the cheek to set me up with Josh last year.’

‘It was a simple process of elimination!’ Lottie grinned and then twisted her face into a grimace. ‘I did get it wrong about Josh, though. He looked so good on paper! His dad was even a director at the tea company and he had the looks to die for. But sheesh, what a loser he turned out to be.’

‘Exactly!’ Dee nodded. ‘And it took me six months to find out that all he wanted was a stand-in girl until someone more suitable came along. No, Lottie. Handsome hotel owners do not date girls who deck them. Well-known fact. Especially girls who give them extra work and refuse to go along with their get-rid-of-the-annoyance-as-quickly-as-possible schemes.’

‘Perhaps he likes a girl who can stand up him. You are a change from all of the gold-diggers who hit on him on a daily basis. And he liked your Earl Grey.’

‘Please. Did you see him? That suit cost more than my last shipment of Oolong. That is a man who fuels up on espressos and wouldn’t let carbs pass his lips. He will pass the problem on to someone else to sort out, you wait and see. Big fish, small pond. Passing through on the way to greater things. Just like Josh. I think he only turned up to tell me so that he could tick me off his to-do list.’

‘But he is trying to find you a replacement venue. Isn’t he?’

‘His assistant is probably run off her feet at this minute calling every hotel in London which is still available on a Saturday two weeks before the event. The list will be small and the hotels grotty. And he is not getting away with it. I need a high-class venue and nothing else will do.’

Lottie was just about to reply when the telephone rang on the wall behind them and the theme song for The Teddy Bears’ Picnic chimed out. She scowled at Dee, who shrugged as though she had not been responsible for changing the ring tone. Again.

‘Lottie’s Cake Shop and Tea Rooms,’ Lottie answered in her best professional voice, and then she reached out and grabbed Dee by the sleeve, tugging hard to make sure that she had her full attention. ‘Good morning to you, too, Sean. Why yes, you are in luck, she is right here. I’ll just get Dee for you.’

Lottie opened her mouth wide, baring her very white teeth, and held out the telephone towards Dee, who took it from her as Lottie picked up a menu and fanned her face. The message was only too clear: hot.

Dee looked at the caller ID on the phone for second longer than necessary and lifted her chin before speaking.

Time to get this game of charades started the way she wanted.

‘Good morning, Flynn’s Phantasmagorian Emporium of Tea. Dee speaking.’

There was a definite pause on the other end of the phone before a deep male voice replied. Excellent. She had put him off his stride and victory was hers.

Shame that when he replied that deep voice was resonant, disgracefully measured, slow and confident. It seemed to vibrate inside her skull so that each syllable was stressed and important.

‘That’s quite a name. I am impressed. Good morning to you, Miss Flynn.’

The way he pronounced the end of her name was quite delicious. ‘I have just made it up, and that’s the idea. And how are you feeling this morning, eh? I hope that there is no bruising or delayed mental trauma from your exciting trip to the tea rooms yesterday evening. I wouldn’t like to be responsible for any lasting damage.’

She almost caught the sound of a low chuckle before he choked it. ‘Not at all,’ Sean replied in a voice that was as smooth as the hot chocolate sauce Lottie made to pour over her cream-filled profiteroles.

‘Excellent news.’ Dee smiled and winked at Lottie, who was leaning against her shoulder so that she could hear every word. ‘So, does that mean you have found me a superb replacement venue that will meet my every exacting need?’

‘Before I answer that, I have a question for you. Are you free to join me for a breakfast meeting this morning?’

Dee held out the phone and glanced at Lottie, who rolled her eyes with a cheeky grin, stifled a laugh and headed off into the kitchen, leaving Dee to stare at the innocent handset as though it were toxic.

‘Breakfast? Ah, thank you, but the bakery opens at six-thirty, so Lottie and I have already had our breakfast.’

‘Ah,’ he replied in a low voice. ‘Misunderstanding. I didn’t mean eating breakfast together, delightful as that would be. But it would be useful to have an early morning meeting to go through your list of exhibitors and put a detailed profile together, so that my team can work on the details with the venue you decide on. Pastries and coffee on the house.’

Dee squeezed her eyes tightly shut with embarrassment and mentally kicked the chair.

Sean Beresford had not only made her toss and turn most of the night, worrying about whether the event was going to happen, but apparently those blue-grey eyes had snuck in and robbed her of the one thing that was going to get her through the next two weeks: the ability to think straight.

Of course, a breakfast meeting wasn’t about bacon butties and wake-up brews of tea that would stain your teeth. She knew that. Even if she had never been to one in person.

How did he do it? How did he discombobulate her with a few words? Make her feel that she was totally out of her depth in a world that she did not understand?

It was as though he could see through the surface barriers she had built up and see straight through to the awkward teenager in the hot-weather cotton clothes on her first day in a London high school. In November.

She had known from the first second she had stepped inside that narrow off-grey school corridor that she was never going to fit in and that she was going to have to start her life from scratch all over again. She was always going to be the outsider. The nobody. The second best. The girl who had to fight to be taken seriously in anything she did.

But how did Sean see that? Did she have a sign painted in the air above her head?

This had never happened to her before with any man. Ever. Normally she just laughed it off and things usually turned out okay in the end.

Usually.

Dee inhaled a deep breath then exhaled slowly. Very slowly.

Focus. She needed to focus on what was needed. That was it. Concentrate on the job. Her entire reputation and future in the tea-selling business was dependent on it. She couldn’t let a flash boy in a suit distract her, no matter how much she needed him to make her dream become a reality.

Dee looked out of the tea-room window onto the busy high street; the first sign of pale winter sunshine filtered through the half-frosted glass. The sleet had stopped in the night and the forecast was for a much brighter day.

Suddenly the urge to feel fresh air on her face and a cool breeze in her hair spiralled through her brain. She quickly glanced at the wall clock above the counter. It was just after nine. Swallowing down her concerns, Dee raised the phone to her mouth.

‘I can be available for a briefing meeting. But pastries and coffee? That’s blasphemy. Do I need to bring my own emergency supply of tea?’

‘Better than that. Following our meeting, I have set up appointments for you at three Beresford hotels this morning. And they all serve tea.’

Dee caught her breath in the back of her throat. Three hotels? Wow. But then her brain caught up with what he was saying. He had set up appointments for her. Not them.

Oh no. She was not going to let him get away with that trick.

‘Ah no, that won’t work. You see, I still don’t feel that the Beresford management team is fully committed to fixing the problem they have created. It would be so reassuring if one of the directors of the company would act as my personal guide to each of the three venues. In person. Don’t you agree, Sean? Now, where shall I meet you?’