Page 32 of Escape To Paradise
A Blossoming Romance
The yacht sailed to St. Vincent and the Grenadines. The guests had spent two days enjoying the island, and then it was back to Grenada. I felt sad to see the guests go. It stung since Julian was leaving too.
Before disembarking, he promised, “I’ll call you, Harper. We’re going to meet again.” He looked at me with his piercing blue eyes. “Don’t be sad now.”
“You better call.”
“That’s a promise.”
He turned around and waved at me before heading down the plank, along with the other guests.
Zofia and Kathleen tried to cheer me up.
“Don’t worry, Harper, he’ll call,” Zofia assured me. “There’s a to-be-continued between the two of you.”
“You think so?” I asked rather hopefully.
“The chemistry between the two of you, the tension, you can cut with a knife. There’s a connection there. And that connection will not easily break.”
I tried to shake the feeling of sadness off. “Let’s go back to work, ladies,” I reminded them. There was a collective groan as Kathleen and Zofia followed me back inside. The stress levels were equally high when it came to cleaning, organizing, planning, and preparing meals for the guests.
I had not heard from Julian the following day. I was expecting a phone call or at least a text, but so far, nothing. I busied myself shopping at the local market for supplies and ingredients. After we organized and loaded the food into the pantry, we planned the meal for the next charter.
Part of working on a luxury yacht was being flexible. The captain said that the next batch of guests were coming in three days. So, we had a lot of time to read over their meal preferences, which the guests had e-mailed over to us a few days or weeks before their trip.
The girls seemed to love going to The Flamingo, so we went there that night.
“Long time no see, girls. What will you be having today?” Maverick asked. He winked at me, trying to be charming and, as usual, he was flashing his megawatt smile. He was wearing a white T-shirt and board shorts; he seemed to have more tan than the last time we saw him.
The girls ordered mojitos, and I ordered a Seven and Seven. Maverick scratched his head when I ordered it. “So, I know how to make a mojito. But what is that? I’ve never heard of it.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll tell you how to make it. In fact, if you’ll allow me, I can make it myself.”
“Wow, bold customer, huh?” He smiled.
Maverick had unusual green-colored eyes. His eyes were light green in the middle, while the periphery was darker. He had attractive eyes.
“What are you staring at?” he asked.
I stepped into the bar and moved closer to him, staring at his eyes as if mesmerized.
“You really have unique colored eyes,” I commented.
I didn’t realize I was very close to him that I could hear him breathing.
“I got it from my dad’s side. He’s Arabic.”
“Maverick, you’re full of surprises. Don’t you know that?”
“I guess.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Teach me how to make that drink.”
“Just follow the master,” I boasted. I wasn’t as good as Benoit at mixing drinks, but I’d worked behind the bar on some occasions.
I started making my drink of 7 Up and whiskey. Then, I placed ice cubes on a tall clear glass and mixed the drink. I handed the drink to Maverick; he seemed surprised.
“I thought you made that drink for you?” he asked.
“I want you to taste it.” I was still standing very close to him; he took a step back.
