The Rock Star's Email Order Bride

Part 8

EIGHT

"Are you an Australian citizen?"

This interview question was the kicker, Xan knew. No matter how qualified she was, wording this wrong could cost her a dream job. She couldn't wait to see the resort. Not for the first time, she wished the interviews had been conducted on the island, instead of at one of the hotels in town. "No. I'm on a working holiday visa that expires at the end of the year. I've travelled around Australia, working the peak season at several resorts on the east coast before taking the train across the country to Western Australia, where my journey brought me here to Broome. I was lucky enough to find a position that kept me here during the low season and I want to extend my stay for as long as possible. It's the sort of place you see in pictures and can't believe is real until you see the colours for yourself. Now, I don't want to leave."

"So you would consider extending your visa in order to stay here?" Max Meier asked, his voice so calm he sounded bored. From the way his whitened knuckles clutched the pen, Xan speculated that the answer to this meant far more to him that he was willing to admit.

"I would consider it, yes," Xan replied.

Triumph flashed in his eyes before it vanished. Xan hid her smile. The job was hers. She knew it.

"Romance Island Resort has an international clientele. I believe you mentioned experience in languages other than English?" Boredom had returned.

"After managing Broome Backpackers for the last five months, I believe I understand common phrases from more than fifty languages." When Meier's eyes widened in admiration, she delivered her punchline: "Especially 'b****y hell, there's a frog in my bathroom!' though the swearing varies in intensity depending on the time of day and the state of undress of the guest."

Meier laughed. "So you're fluent in...?"

"English, Greek, Latin and French." Not that she expected to use the Greek or Latin her father had taught her, but it sounded good. Best not to mention it was ancient and not modern Greek, too.

"We get a lot of guests from Asia, so it's important that – "

"Qīngwā, katak, dādura. My pronunciation isn't perfect, I know, but that's frog in Chinese, Indonesian and Malay, and Hindi, I think. It's best that I don't share the swearing." Xan smiled sweetly. "I learn fast."

The interview wound down with a smattering of small talk and what Xan thought was a heart-felt handshake, at least on Meier's part. Was it her imagination or did he seem particularly desperate to fill this position?

She strode out of the Mangrove Hotel meeting room feeling more than a little smug. With the interview over, the afternoon spread out before her like a warm towel at the beach.

Except...all suited up as she was in this heat, a dip in the warm water of Roebuck Bay didn't appeal as much as it should. Better would be an ice-cold beer from the brewery. Xan turned her back on Town Beach and the hotel, where the next nervous-looking candidate had just met Max Meier.

A cold pint, a late lunch and a relaxing afternoon was what she deserved.

Kathy recognised her the moment she walked through the door, despite the suit, and Xan returned her friendly nod as she seated herself at a tiny table directly below one of the whirring fans.

Xan didn't need to do more than glance at the menu before Kathy stood at her side, order pad at the ready. "Same as usual?"

"Of course." Xan scanned the menu. "And the con carne. I haven't had lunch yet."

"Popular choice today. I'll see if we have any left."

Kathy returned with Xan's usual pint of ginger beer – alcoholic, of course; none of that kids' stuff. She confirmed that the kitchen could fill her lunch order before bustling up to deal with a group of wide-eyed tourists who stared avidly around as if they'd never seen old pearling memorabilia before. Perhaps they hadn't – after all, if the backpackers was busy, the other hotels in town had to be, too. So many new arrivals...

Xan had stared at the old black and white photos on the walls, too, on her first time here. The old sign from when the brewery had been a general store still hung over the bar, though the store had stopped trading decades ago, or that's what the tour guides said. She'd been the only one staring at the walls that day – everyone else had been transfixed by some celebrity who'd turned up and decided to treat his adoring fans. Some famous musician or other. She'd caught a glimpse of him. She wasn't sure what had irritated her the most: his arrogance or the sleazy way he'd surveyed his new-found harem. When she'd left that day, his party was well under way. She wondered which of the girls had been with him for more than a free meal. He'd evidently expected repayment for his largesse – God, men like that were everywhere. Luckily, she hadn't seen him again. Broome was better off without him.

Xan laughed quietly to herself. She'd only lived in the town for a few months and she was already as protective of it as a local. That's what this new job was all about, though – another reason for her to want to stay. She'd get to see even more of the surrounding countryside and ocean if she got the job at Romance Island Resort as she guided VIPs around. Helicopters and yachts and diving every day...she wouldn't want to give it up. Ah, that's what Jerome was for – to tempt her home when her working holiday got too good.