The Bed and Breakfast on the Beach: A gorgeous feel-good read from the bestselling author of One Day in December. Kat French
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СКАЧАТЬ lit up even more, shimmying her way through the tables to pull Jesse into a hug. If there was one thing this woman did freely, it was hug, Winnie thought. Jesse seemed to take it well, and Frankie and Stella couldn’t have looked more surprised if Santa Claus had walked in and ordered a beer. They’d only met Jesse the grouch, and this was a completely different man.

      ‘Ladies,’ Corinna said, linking arms with Jesse to lead him across to them. ‘This is Jesse Anderson, Skelidos’s secret celebrity!’

      Jesse rolled his eyes. ‘Hardly.’

      ‘Celebrity?’ Stella asked.

      Corinna nodded, drawing Panos into the conversation. ‘Sculptor to the stars, am I not right, Panos?’ Placing her perfectly manicured hands on Stella and Frankie’s knees, she elaborated on several of Jesse’s better-known clients and what he’d been asked to make for them.

      ‘How long had you been there?’ Winnie asked quietly as Jesse came to stand beside her stool.

      ‘Long enough to hear that you left your husband because he had a needledick.’ Jesse took off his sunglasses and hooked them into the neck of his T-shirt.

      Any attempt Winnie might have made to correct Jesse’s interpretation of her marital discord was cut short by Corinna.

      ‘Jesse, wasn’t it Jennifer Aniston you sculpted in the nude?’

      ‘You know perfectly well that it wasn’t,’ Jesse said, nodding when Panos offered him a beer. ‘And you also know perfectly well that most of my work is private, and usually of very little interest to anyone but the person who has commissioned it.’

      Corinna pouted prettily, as if he’d spoiled her game.

      ‘He’s always been secretive,’ she sighed. ‘Although I’m sure I spotted a bust of Barack Obama in his workshop once.’

      Jesse just shook his head, and Winnie found herself wondering how close he was with Corinna to have allowed her access to his studio.

      ‘Winnie’s an artist,’ Stella said out of the blue, making Winnie’s cheeks burn as everyone turned to look her way.

      ‘I’m not, not really …’ She pulled her drink towards her and took a good glug, then struggled not to splutter because the extra gin Panos had added had made it strong enough to strip paint.

      ‘She makes the most beautiful jewellery,’ Frankie said, holding her wrist out to show off the bracelet Winnie had given her for her birthday a couple of years ago. Strands of twisted silver and gold wound around pale-green tourmalines and milky-blue moonstones: it was one of Frankie’s most prized possessions.

      ‘Oh, my goodness!’ Corinna pounced and held Frankie’s hand to examine the bracelet. ‘You made this?’

      Winnie nodded, still feeling foolish because Jesse was clearly an internationally established artist and she’d worked from her garden shed. ‘It was more of a hobby, really,’ she murmured, although she’d burned with indignation whenever Rory had referred to it as such when they were married. He’d never taken her as seriously as she’d wished, even though her order book had been consistently full and she’d started to make a name for herself.

      ‘Come on, Win,’ Stella said. ‘Don’t do yourself down, it wasn’t a hobby. You’re bloody good at it.’

      Winnie was aware of Jesse watching her reactions closely.

      ‘I haven’t done it for a while,’ she said eventually.

      ‘But you will do it again now you’re here, yes?’ Corinna said. ‘Because I’d love to see more of what you can do. This kind of line would be perfect for the gallery shop.’

      Winnie frowned, not quite following.

      ‘Corinna owns the gallery in Skelidos town,’ Panos offered by way of explanation.

      ‘There’s a town?’ Stella looked hopeful. ‘Is there a supermarket there?’

      ‘Two,’ Jesse said. ‘I need to go into town for a couple of hours tomorrow. I can run one of you in if you like.’

      ‘Winnie,’ Frankie and Stella said at the same time.

      They both shrugged when she shot them daggers.

      ‘I’m menu planning in the morning,’ Frankie said. She was the stand-out cook of the three of them and was dying to put her stamp on the menu revamp at the B&B. She was itching to test out new recipes and make the most of local produce to really ring the changes.

      ‘And I’m ready to make a start on the media package,’ Stella said, sliding into business talk because it came as second nature to her. They’d all readily agreed that she was perfectly placed to give the B&B’s tired and very basic website a much-needed makeover. She knew all the right people to take their social media profile from non-existent to boutique, to really try to get their name out there. If there was one thing that Stella understood it was marketing and PR, and she was planning to use all of those hard-earned skills that no one else back home seemed to value any more to put their new business on the discerning holidaymaker’s map.

      Winnie, it had been agreed, was to be their front of house, the face of Villa Valentina, the warm welcome and the winning smile that would have people booking up season on season. But front of house needed guests, so for now, at least, she had some time on her hands.

      Time to go into town with Jesse, or so it seemed.

       CHAPTER FIVE

      Jesse stood at his kitchen window and watched Winnie as she swung her legs over the low wall around his olive grove and made her way over to the donkeys. She seemed a little more sure of herself this morning, less as if she feared The Fonz might bite her hand off when she reached out to fuss his ears. Or had her skittishness yesterday been more about the fact that he’d been so rude to her on their first encounter? He knew he’d been unnecessarily brusque, but her passing similarity to Erin when she’d opened the door at the villa had been a red rag to a bull. On closer inspection she was quite different, but there was something familiar in the curve of her hip and the slender, lithe length of her limbs, in the natural fairness of the waves that fell around her shoulders and the fullness of her mouth. An echo, a reminder to him of a time in his life that he’d closed the door on. Without even realising it, Winnie had managed to disappoint him simply by not being someone else.

      It was a disservice, of course; he was big enough and ugly enough to know that, but just watching her again today stirred that same complicated cocktail of emotions again.

      He threw a whole glass of cold water down his throat, then lifted his hand in greeting when she turned and caught him looking her way.

      ‘Get a fucking grip,’ he muttered. ‘She’s not even that much like her.’

      It had all been such a long time ago, really; a decade almost, more than long enough for him to make his peace with what had happened. And he had, for the most part anyway. He’d have given himself a fairly clean bill of emotional health up to yesterday, when all it had taken was a swish of blonde hair and a flick of a hip to send him off the deep end.

      He СКАЧАТЬ