The Accidental Mistress

chapter Seven

Zuri slumped into the bucket seat of the cranberry red convertible beetle. The drive down from the mountain was quite serene. She had slept well. Her father was up and alert when she left. She even got the opportunity to see him stand with the aid of the nurses.

"So, JP's excited you're coming. I told him that you wanted to meet with him first." Joi looked for a reaction.

Zuri didn't take the bait. She had made the mistake of returning home briefly after graduation and trying to rekindle a romance with Jean-Paul. They never made it past first base. Her wounds were deep thanks to 'he’s-who-she-hoped-to-never-see-again'. Jean-Paul professed his love and held her while she cried tears of confusion and frustration. Instead of being mature and working through it, she fled to the states and avoided his calls.

"Did you hear me?"

"JP and I are friends. You know that, Joi."

Joi shifted the gears and eased on the speed as they rounded the narrow two-lane highway. "Yes, but the question is, does he?"

They arrived at the Oasis within the hour. Joi parked in the designated spot for management near the beach bungalows. The Blue Oasis was located on the outskirts of Fort de France on a secluded beach. Exclusivity is a must for the higher end establishments. The pampered guests were never to be in direct contact with the locals.

Zuri cringed as she strolled along the breezeway. The damaged roofing and boarded up bungalows that hadn't been restored since the storm and flooding told the tale. "I will have a meeting with the staff tomorrow to introduce you. I need you to see these contracts they are piling up on me."

"Where's Detrick, in this?"

"Girl, he isn't consistent. I think he's not advising père well, Zuri. Dad took out more loans to sustain the Oasis, but the payments are so high and we get nothing from tourism. Only resources are from cruise ships that port and bring new visitors. And those tourists eat at the restaurants, do our beaches, but nothing more. No guests."

"These Montague people. Where did they come from?" Zuri asked.

"Montague Spa and Resorts? You've heard of it, right?" Joi asked, taking the stairs instead of the elevator. It was quicker to her office.

"I think so. They bought Ventura, didn't they?"

"Ventura, Danbury in Phoenix, The Ivy in New York, and a whole bunch of others. They've grown in the past three years. I hear they are buying up every fledging company. When they started circling, I knew it was trouble. I met with some creep named Elliot Mason. But the big man is coming. Christophe Montague."

Zuri stopped. Hearing the name Christophe hit her square in a sore spot. She never knew his last name, but still the news burned. “I want to see everything on Montague first,” said Zuri.

Joi unlocked the door. She held it open for Zuri. When she entered, she was overcome by the chaos. Her sister couldn't manage a thing from the stockpile of papers and unopened mail on her desk. Their father ran such a neat orderly business. She struggled against criticizing Joi. Instead, she approached the desk and sat behind the computer as Joi nervously started gathering all the papers.

"My office isn't normally this messy, but when père had the stroke, I had to take care of things alone. And then several others quit, cause... well I've had trouble with payroll too. So yeah, it's a mess, Zuri."

"It's okay. I understand."

Zuri moved the mouse to click through the website for Montague Inc. She located an image of the founding family under Stephanie Montague. She felt a sinking feeling of dread move in over her heart when the woman's crystal blue eyes glared through the photograph from a stern expressionless face. She then clicked on the current CEO. Stephan Christophe Montague II. It was him.

"What is it?"

"Nothing."

"What... let me see." Joi walked around the desk to look at the computer. "He's cute. Is he the owner or president?"

"Something like that."

"Why does he look familiar?" Joi asked, leaning in over Zuri's shoulder.

"When is he coming?" Zuri quickly clicked off his image.

"Tomorrow morning."

"Where's he staying?"

"The honeymoon bungalow’s are okay. Best we got. I thought we could do one of those up for him and of course that Elliot creep."

"That's a start, but I want to make sure we do this... right." She swallowed down the nervous knot lodged in her throat. She quickly tapped the mouse with her pointer finger in search of more information on the company, something useful. Business had nothing to do with her wildly beating heart. A flood of emotion surged and she felt tears brimming in frustration. If she couldn't look at his picture, what would she do in a face-to-face meeting? How could her fate, and her father's legacy be in the hands of this man?

The door opened and Jean-Paul stuck his head in. His coiled dreadlocks were tucked neatly in the cap to the back of his head. He had dressed in his chef's jacket. His smooth dark skin radiated love when their eyes met. As driven as Claude, his culinary talents were now well respected by the top food critics in the world. Joi shared that he'd been offered very lucrative deals, but he had turned them down. Even now.

Every single girl on the island wet their panties when his six-foot six frame walked into a room. Sadly, Zuri and he discovered they were better off friends than lovers. Jean-Paul's natural tendency to flirt with her made her question if that truly was a mutual decision.

"All? belle."


"Hi JP!" Zuri forced a high note of optimism to her voice. She rose. She hurried around the desk and into his open arms. After seeing Christophe's face, that old shame swelled up in her again. She needed Jean-Paul’s strong arms to remind her that all was okay. He kissed her face and neck, and then came the slow brush of his ever-so soft lips across her mouth. Oh yes! I need this! His hug was intimate and warm. Joi cleared her throat.

Zuri laughed, pushing the flirtatious Jean-Paul away. "How are you?"

"Très bien, better now that you are here. I tell them to go get my girl, bring her home. Glad they listened finally."

“Me too,” Zuri said. “We got work to do. I um, let's get this place as presentable as possible first.” She turned on Joi. "Can you have the cleaning crew start on his room, his, and anyone travelling with him? Get the best of everything. Champagne, fruit, whatever—"

“Whoa, Zuri. We have it under control,” Jean-Paul said.

“We need to make him comfortable until I can think of a plan. How to convince him the place isn't one he wants to take.”

“Wait, don't we want to make him think the place is a dump. Not worth salvaging?” Joi asked. "That would make more sense."

Zuri shook her head no. "They love to buy and dismantle, fire everyone and start from scratch. It's all about branding with a company like this. If it's seen as worthless he will just use that to barter an even lower price with the bank. No. We have to be smart about this. Let me read the contracts from our lenders and this deal with Montague. I'll catch up with you for dinner." Zuri headed back around the desk. She stopped. "Joi, I need you to go into Fort de France and get me and you several madras. I want us to dress traditionally, really celebrate who we are. All managers on the staff not in uniform should do the same."

Joi nodded and left. Jean-Paul did not. She felt his eyes on her.

Finally she turned and faced him. "What is it?"

"You. How are you? I know seeing him like that must have been hard."

"You have no idea how hard. I'm still shaking JP. If I lose père, I don't know what I'll do. I have to find a way to preserve his legacy. These bastards that’s coming for our home are sneaky. He's—" she bit down on her tongue. "Montague is the big fish and père is the guppie in the pool. Oh, and I got to get ahead of the bank on this. It's our only hope. Detrick will meet with me."

"Zuri. Zuri. Look at me."

She did. His hands went to her arms and he smiled down at her, "Slow down. You aren't alone. You have me."

“I know. I love you for it. Let's catch up later, okay?”

Jean-Paul hesitated as if he wanted to say more. Zuri prayed he wouldn't. He gave her a sexy wink then kissed her forehead. When the door closed behind him, Zuri slumped to the desk. How could she ever explain to any of them that the man coming to tear their world a part is the man she slept with all those years ago? How could she negotiate with this man if he knew the leverage he had? He believed her to be a conniving whore. And why did, secretly, part of her want to see him again? If only to silence the questions of their parting, and show the bastard what he so callously passed on.

“Damn it! What am I to do?”