DUNEDIN, NEW ZEALAND
Though her eyes were on her book, Alexandra Stewart, known simply as Alex to close friends and relatives, knew Mr. Hot-Choc was still watching her. Perhaps he wanted to sit next to Mary St. Clair, which wouldn’t surprise her at all. Her ex-classmate from high school was popular with everyone. Her catwalk figure, dark-brown curls, and bright-blue eyes stole the tongues right out of the mouths of the boys. You could say she was perfect, almost. If only she didn’t act like such a bitch, thinking everyone was beneath her and that no one else was as deserving of her perfect life.
Alex could never behave like Mary. She would rather hide in a closet or do dishes than flirt with a guy. In her world, she wasn’t pretty enough to have the confidence that seemed to exude from Mary.
And now Mary looked to be hitting on Mr. Hot-Choc. Again, Alex wasn’t surprised. The man was a hunk, tall and trim, blond-haired, and blue-eyed. She was sure she had never seen him around Dunedin. He walked around the long table with that loose-limbed grace usually only seen in big cats. A true-bred alpha male, he had that powerful aura about him that fairly screams, Don’t challenge me or I’ll eat you for breakfast.
Why did he watch her with such intensity? Who was he? Why was he with Peter and Mary? Were they friends?
And why name him Mr. Hot-Choc? Because he was damn hot, and at the moment, she was craving a cup of hot chocolate. Only she couldn’t afford one. Her budget was tight. Every cent went to support the family.
She nibbled her lower lip and tried to concentrate on her novel. Hercules Poirot uncovered the murderer, the motive was laid bare, and all from brilliant deduction of seemingly insignificant facts. She couldn’t figure out how, and now her mind, without warning, flipped to her dad, Jacob Stewart.
How long can he wait for a heart to be available?
His condition was getting worse. He needed a new heart and fast, as Peter, the young cardiologist and longtime family friend, told her. Finding a donor, however, was difficult. There was the option of going to a private hospital. There was no way they could afford that. There were the costs of flights to Auckland, the accommodations, the surgery, and of course, the heart itself. But they were desperate, and her mother, Mali Stewart, had been willing to apply for a personal bank loan just so Dad could get his surgery done more quickly.
Unfortunately, Alex had found out half an hour ago the bank rejected the application. The risk of nonpayment set against her modest income as a lab scientist and the mortgage on the family home was too much. On top of that, she had her student loan and family living costs. Then there was Timothy and Emma, her younger siblings. Tim was just about to finish high school, and a university education was on the horizon. Emma still had a couple years to go.
Alex grinded her teeth. It had been one thing after another. The company Dad had worked for closed the Dunedin factory and moved it overseas, chasing cheap labor in their quest of the almighty dollar. Jacob’s services were no longer required. What a bitter day that was! Dad went into overdrive trying to find another job. The stress led to his sudden massive heart failure six months ago, and it was a miracle he survived.
Alex hoped he had taken out health insurance, but as the ambulance sped him to the hospital, a frantic search of his papers revealed nothing. Too late now, she thought, but her mind wasn’t in the mood for staying on one subject today. She remembered the text message she had received from Peter. She took out her cell phone and read the message again.
Happy Bday, Alex. Bck frm Qtwn. Catch up? Coffee?
I hve a frnd u shuld meet. He can hlp u & yr dad. C ya soon :P
A grin creeped across her face. Peter always remembered her birthday, and his gifts were usually thoughtful. But lately he had been trying to find her a guy, which was annoying. It had started innocently enough with some simple suggestions. That was until last year, when he had arranged a blind date for her. The guy, Andrew something-or-other, seemed pleasant enough to begin with, although the evening was awkward. Then, as the hour grew late, he made a quite inappropriate move on her, and she slapped his face and left. When she told Peter about the incident, he ended his own short friendship with the man. Peter meant well, but she didn’t have the time for a boyfriend.
The light trill of a woman’s laughter drew her attention. Mary was giggling away loudly and enthusiastically, leaning closer to Mr. Hot-Choc. Alex couldn’t help but admire the way he was handling the situation. Mary was an outrageous flirt, confident the men around her would be enchanted, but he seemed unaffected. In fact, it looked as if he were playing the game and playing it well, in full control of the situation.
Suddenly, he caught Alex looking at him. She glanced away, her heart pounding and her cheeks hot and flushed with guilt. She pretended to be interested in her phone, but she felt his amusement from across the room. The urge to be somewhere else, anywhere else, was strong, but not as strong as her curiosity about this extraordinarily handsome man. Then a thought struck her, and she started texting.
Hey, Pete, sorry didn’t join u cos u wth frnds.
Coffee sounds good. Sunday? 2:30? SAN Cafe?
A push of a button and the message was on its way. She looked up and saw Peter checking his cell phone. He turned around to face her with a big grin, waved, and nodded. Mr. Hot-Choc watched her with interest, the gentlest of smiles playing with his lips. She was about to smile back when she noticed Mary’s hateful glare. The message was clear—Piss off! He’s mine! Alex blushed and dived for cover into the musings of the great Monsieur Poirot.
Ten minutes later, she glanced up. Peter, Mr. Hot-Choc, and Mary were heading toward the exit. Well, she should get going too. Back to work for her. She tidied up, wrapped the satchel over her shoulder, and picked up her half-empty cup of cold tea.
She was deep in thought, and her eyes saw only the threadbare carpet as she headed toward the conveyer. She slammed into a body. She was aware of cold tea seeping quickly through her jersey and chilling her skin. She felt strong hands holding her as she tottered. She looked up straight into a guy’s clear-blue eyes as he pulled her upright, almost in an embrace. Warmth and strength seemed to flow from him in an intoxicating mixture.
“Are you all right?” The tone of his voice was low, deep, and rich like the calm of a great sea gently tasting the pebbles on the shore.
She took a deep breath and was overcome with the scent of fresh spices floating on a spring breeze. Snapping back to reality, she stared in disbelief at the cold tea that had somehow transferred itself from her old jersey onto his expensive-looking jacket.
“Oh, God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to,” she said, her hands dabbing at his jacket. “I’m sorry.” She glanced up at him.
It’s him! It’s Mr. Hot-Choc!
She spiraled away into the fathomless depths of his cobalt-blue eyes. The color reminded her of those lovely summer days years ago at the farm where she used to work as a fruit picker. The sky was huge, and the air hummed with the busy sounds of insects. Suddenly, she could smell the sweetness of ripe strawberries. She remembered the feel of the long, soft grasses and the cool sprinkling of water against her skin.
The intensity of his gaze disturbed her from her reverie, and she blushed as she lowered her head and said, “I’m sorry. It was my fault. Let me get something to clean it off.” She picked up the empty cup from the floor and put it on the food conveyer belt. Then she grabbed a handful of napkins from a nearby table and started to pat his jacket dry.
“That’s okay.” He took hold of her hands again, softly but with insistence. The contact made her nerves jump, and excitement coursed through her body. It was a touch filled with intimacy and promise.
“It’ll wash out.” He noticed her discomfort and let go of her hands.
“I’m truly sorry,” she said, realizing he had an accent—an American one. “I’m not usually this clumsy.” She glanced up and saw him raise an eyebrow. “There. It’s kind of dry now.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
There it was again, that voice! A delicious shiver tickled its way along her spine. She cleared her throat. “Sorry,” she said, walking over to the bin and tossing the wet napkins in. “You have a good day.” She waved as she turned to the corridor.
He caught her before she had walked more than three steps. “Hey, you work here?”
She nodded. “Yeah, are you lost? Or has Peter deserted you? He sometimes does that.”
“No, he didn’t. I—um—what’s your name? Are you a friend of Peter?”
“Yeah, he’s a friend,” she replied and then hesitated for a moment. “It’s Alexandra, by the way. Look, I have to go back to work. To get out, just go this way and turn right and then down the stairs to the main reception.”
Jay nodded.
“Sorry again about the tea. As I said, I’m not usually this clumsy. Bye now,” she said, and then she was gone.
Jayden’s grin stayed with him all the way to the bottom of the stairs.
Her eyes were such a deep brown, like the color of melted chocolate. And she seemed sweet and delicious too! Something about those eyes drew him in and left him slightly breathless.
Peter was waiting for him by the reception desk.
“What took you so long?”
“I couldn’t find the bathroom after all,” Jay replied.
As they walked through the door of the hospital, Jay thought, So she’s not usually that clumsy, is she?
Alex gasped, her eyes squinting in the sudden darkness. Damn! She’d have to get the torch and replace that light bulb again.She shook her hands out of the soapy water, wiped them dry with a clean towel, and headed around the benchtop. As she groped her way into the living area, she heard a giggle, which sounded much like Emma. There, floating in the darkness, was a chocolate cake, candlelight flickering across its surface. Her dad was holding it, and her mom, with her arm in his. Her best friend, Ruby Williams-Chan, came into view, removing any doubt over whose idea this was. Nikita Buchannan and Isabella Robertson were there, too. Everyone was wearing big, sloppy birthday smiles.“Oh my God!” Alex murmured.Emma giggled again, as though she couldn’t contain herself, and rushed to stand next to her. The strains of “Happy Birthday,” sung in the traditional arrangement of out-of-tune voices, filled the room. A sudden eruption of light revealed Timothy with his hand on the switch. Alex
The aroma of coffee greeted Alex the moment she stepped through the door of SAN Restaurant. It was toasty warm inside compared to the sharp, cold air outside. She headed to the counter and ordered herself the hot chocolate she had been craving since Friday. Then she took a seat facing the door to make sure Peter would be able to spot her.Alex glanced about her surroundings, noting the busy staff, the happy customers, and cozy decor of the restaurant.SAN made the best hot chocolate in town, not to mention Cambodian food. She and her friends had always met here for their hot-choc sessions.She took off her blue coat nervously. In fact, her insides were shuddering with anxiety as she waited for Peter and his friend, whoever he was, to show up.Peter had called her late last night. After he sang her a happy birthday song loudly, he told her she shouldn’t be nervous meeting his friend, supposedly a nice person. She trusted Peter. He would never introduce her to anyone who had a questiona
Alexandra was going nuts! She couldn’t concentrate or do anything right after that damn hot-choc with Peter and Jayden. Once home and alone in her bedroom, she threw her satchel on the floor and collapsed on the bed.“You’ve sent me the wrong man,” she muttered under her breath, looking heavenward at the white ceiling. She sighed and rolled over to lie on her stomach. “He’s not even interested in me. He’s interested because I can help him.” She pouted her lips. “His girlfriend must be very hot.” Then she thought to add, “And very stupid.”She rested her chin on her palm as she stared at her pink netbook screen. Well, you better stop thinking about him and start paying bills, Alex, she told herself.Nodding her head and determined not to think about Jayden, she logged into her internet banking and started paying her electricity and phone bills. The balance in her bank account after that made her feel terribly depressed. She sighed. Oh, well, at least next Wednesday would be payday. Her
Margaret Thompson glanced at Peter and Jayden from where she stood in the kitchen, armed with a knife and chopping board. She wondered what they were doing, sitting there for almost an hour now, staring at the BlackBerry that was on the coffee table. It looked as though they were daring it to ring, so intense they were at their task. The air was thick with tension and anticipation. The telephone on the side table beside Peter shrilled out, causing the two men to jump. They glanced at each other. Peter ignored the ringing phone beside him that seriously demanded his attention and leaned closer to his BlackBerry. A second later, the continuous buzzing was starting to annoy the men. They both frowned at the damn thing and demanded it to shut up. Peter said, “Mum, aren’t you going to get that?” Margaret looked up, her green eyes peering above her spectacles at Peter, her red hair bright and glowing under the light. “I’m busy, Peter. Aren’t you going to pick it up?” “I’m waiting for an
Jayden wandered along the hallway, cursing himself. What the hell was wrong with him? Why was he showing so much interest toward Alex? And why did he have to stand so close to her just then? No, wait. Pause right there, hot shot! He knew why. It was because she smelled great, like spring or something. He wasn’t able to help himself because he wanted to smell her again after she had squeezed past him through the entrance door into the hallway. It wasn’t a strong, perfumery smell like most of the women used back in New York, but rather a subtle scent, just a hint of lovely floral that pricked his interest, just a hint that made him want to inhale more. He reached the bathroom door, put one hand on the knob, and knocked lightly a couple of times with the other. When he didn’t hear any reply, he opened the door slightly and popped his head in. He saw her busy cleaning herself with some Kleenex. She had her jersey off, which was lying on the floor. She was wearing only her white single
In the dimly lit dining room, Jayden watched Alex from across the table. She had on his dark-grey jumper. It was way too big for her person, but she managed to make it look as though it fit her perfectly, with the sleeves rolled up to her slim forearms. “So how’s the house renovation going, Pete?” Alex asked, glancing up from her plate of roasted pork and various veggies. “Not too well,” Peter said. “Did I tell you about that mold?” Alex shook her head as she popped some pork into her mouth. “We have to take down the walls. God, more labor costs and more materials needed now,” he mumbled. “And Tracy is not very happy.” “I’m sure I wouldn’t be happy either,” Alex commented, thinking about the amount of money needed for a house renovation. “So, Alex,” Mr. Thompson said from across the table, sipping his glass of white wine. Alex looked over at Dr. Mark Thompson, who had only arrived five minutes before dinner. He had been busy at the Dunedin Public Hospital and at the lab. Well, a
Eight Weeks Later NEW YORK CITY, USA Alex was tired and frustrated. Finally, she thought with some small triumph, she had arrived in New York City. Now standing there in the lobby of LaGuardia Airport, she just wanted to collapse on the floor and rest. Where was Jayden anyway? Oh, God! What if he forgot to come and get her? Well, she couldn’t blame him if he had because she was late. She was supposed to arrive yesterday afternoon. But being the clumsy, inexperienced traveler she was, she managed to miss the flight from Sydney to Los Angeles and then the rest was history. She was still upset she missed that flight. It was first class. Now she would never know what it was like sitting in that luxurious, comfy seat with the airhostess serving her every need. Damn! Turning her attention back to her dilemma, she thought if she didn’t see Jay within the next five minutes, she’d take a taxi and check into the nearest hotel. Then she’d give him a ring to tell him where she was. She dragged
Alexandra had the most horrible headache ever. She flashed her eyes open and rubbed her temple, swearing silently. The bright sunlight didn’t help either. She squinted and gritted her teeth. “Good afternoon, sleepy head.” She snapped her eyes open, wondering who was in the room with her. She licked her lips and turned to look behind her. Jayden was standing just at the end of the bed, hands in the pockets of his trousers. His white shirt was unbuttoned halfway, showing off his muscular chest. Oh my God! He was so handsome—just like a devilishly hot Calvin Klein model. She had no doubt he was wearing Calvin Klein anyway. Then she wondered why Jay asked her to be his fake girlfriend when he could have chosen someone prettier—someone like Mary St. Clair. But then again, Jay was gay. Because he wasn’t interested in women, he wouldn’t know which was hot, which was pretty, and which was plain like her. That explained why he wasn’t affected by Mary’s famous charm. God made him a perfect cr