An Island Affair. Monica Richardson
“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.
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