heaven she’d said no.
Or had she misread him? Had his interest only been in her knowledge of local hotspots? After a six-month sabbatical, maybe her dating skills were so rusty she’d mistaken his meaning.
Still, she couldn’t help feeling annoyed. Not so much at Tristan but at herself, for having let down her guard even if only momentarily. If she’d glimpsed that look of interest in his eyes, he would have seen it in hers.
‘Which boat did you book?’ she asked Eliza.
The cooking facilities on the charter yachts available in Sydney Harbour ranged from a basic galley to a full-sized luxury kitchen.
‘Because it will be midweek, I managed to get the Argus on short notice.’
‘Wow! Well done. He should love that.’
‘He did. I showed him a choice of boats online, but the Argus was the winner hands down.’
‘His date should be really impressed,’ Gemma said, fighting off an urge to sound snarky.
‘I think that was the idea—the lucky lady.’
The Argus was a replica of a sixty-foot vintage wooden motor yacht from the nineteen-twenties and the ultimate in luxury. Its hourly hire rate was a mind-boggling amount of dollars. To book it for just two people was a total extravagance. Party Queens had organised a corporate client’s event for thirty people on the boat at the start of summer. It was classy, high-tech and had a fully equipped kitchen. Tristan must really want to impress his date.
‘So I’m guessing if lunch is on the Argus we won’t be on a tight budget.’
‘He told me to “spend what it takes”,’ said Eliza with a delighted smile. The more dollars for Party Queens, the happier Eliza was.
Gemma gritted her teeth and forced herself to think of Tristan purely as a client, not as an attractive man who’d caught her eye. It would be better if she still thought of him as bald with a pot belly. ‘It’s short notice, but of course we can do it. Any restrictions on the menu?’
Planning party menus could involve dealing with an overwhelming array of food allergies and intolerances.
‘None that he mentioned,’ said Eliza.
‘That makes things easier.’ Gemma thought out loud. ‘An elegant on-board lunch for two... I’m thinking seafood—fresh and light. A meal we can prep ahead and our chef can finish off on board. We’ll book the waiter today.’
‘“Romantic” is the keyword, remember? And he wants the best French champagne—which, of course, I’ll organise.’ Eliza had an interest in wine as well as in spreadsheets.
‘I wonder who his guest is?’ Gemma said, hoping she wouldn’t betray her personal interest to Eliza.
‘Again, he didn’t say,’ Eliza said.
Gemma couldn’t help a stab of envy towards Tristan’s date, for whom he was making such an effort to be romantic. But he was a client. And she was a professional. If he wanted romantic, she’d give him romantic. In spades.
‘But tell me—why will I be meeting with Tristan on Wednesday?’
‘He wants you to be on board for the duration—to make sure everything is perfect. His words, not mine.’
‘What? A lunch for two with a chef and a waiter doesn’t need a supervisor, as well. You know how carefully we vet the people who work for us. They can be trusted to deliver the Party Queens’ promise.’
Eliza put up her hands in a placatory gesture. ‘Relax. I know that. I know the yacht comes with skipper and crew. But Tristan asked for you to be on board, too. He wants you to make sure everything goes well.’
‘No!’ Gemma said and realised her protest sounded over-the-top. ‘I...I mean there’s no need for me to be there at all. I’ll go over everything with the chef and the waiter to make sure the presentation and service is faultless.’
Eliza shook her head. ‘Not good enough. Tristan Marco has specifically requested your presence on board.’
Gemma knew the bottom line was always important to Eliza. She’d made sure their business was a success financially. With a sinking heart Gemma realised there would be no getting out of this. And Eliza was only too quick to confirm that.
‘You know how lucrative his party on Friday is for us, Gemma. Tristan is an important client. You really have to do this. Whether you like it or not.’
ON WEDNESDAY MORNING Gemma made her way along the harbourside walk on the northern shore of Sydney Harbour. Milson’s Point and the Art Deco North Sydney Swimming Pool were behind her as she headed towards the wharf at Lavender Bay, where she was to join the Argus. As she walked she realised why she felt so out of sorts—she was jealous of Tristan’s unknown date. And put out that he had replaced her so quickly.
It wasn’t that she was jealous of the other woman’s cruise on a magnificent yacht on beautiful Sydney Harbour. Or the superb meal she would be served, thanks to the skill of the Party Queens team. No. What Gemma envied her most for was the pleasure of Tristan’s company.
Gemma seethed with a most unprofessional indignation at the thought of having to dance attendance on the couple’s romantic rendezvous. There was no justification for her feelings—Tristan had asked to spend time with her and she had turned him down. In fact, her feelings were more than a touch irrational. But still she didn’t like the idea of seeing Tristan with another woman.
She did not want to do this.
Why had he insisted on her presence on board? This was a romantic lunch for two, for heaven’s sake. There was only so much for her to do for a simple three-course meal. She would have too much time to observe Tristan being charming to his date. And, oh, how charming the man could be.
If she was forced to watch him kiss that other woman, she might just have to jump off board and brave the sharks and jellyfish to swim to shore.
Suck it up, Gemma, you turned him down.
She forced herself to remember that she was the director of her own company, looking after an important client. To convince herself that there were worse things to do than twiddle her thumbs in the lap of luxury on one of the most beautiful harbours in the world on a perfect sunny day. And to remind herself to paste a convincing smile on her face as she did everything in her power to make her client’s day a success.
As she rounded the boardwalk past Luna Park fun fair, she picked up her pace when she noticed the Argus had already docked at Lavender Bay. The charter company called it a ‘gentleman’s cruiser’, and the wooden boat’s vintage lines made it stand out on a harbour dotted with slick, modern watercraft. She didn’t know much about boats, but she liked this one—it looked fabulous, and it had a very well-fitted-out kitchen that was a dream to work in.
The Lavender Bay wharf was on the western side of the Sydney Harbour Bridge, virtually in its shadow, with a view right through to the gleaming white sails of the Opera House on the eastern side. The water was unbelievably blue to
