‘All we really know so far is that he wants one hundred percent of the pearl farm or the deal is off the table,’ Leo reminded her.
‘And are you sure that you won’t sell?’ she asked him one more time.
‘No. I won’t. And neither should you.’
Isla drew an exasperated breath. ‘This conversation is going nowhere.’
Leo changed tack. ‘Okay, Isla. If you must sell the island, then for heaven’s sake keep the pearl farm out of the negotiations. That way, we can still be friends.’
‘Look, Leo, you’ve already made it quite clear to me that you wouldn’t want to be either my supplier or my friend. Remember?’
‘I would if you’d sell your share of the pearl farm to me.’
She looked at him with surprise.
‘I’m serious,’ he said. ‘I want to make you an offer. How much do you want for it?’
‘Oh, wow, I hadn’t seen that one coming. I thought you were broke? You live on the premises and I’m told you don’t even draw a salary.’
‘But I’m owed a bonus on profits, and it looks like we’ll make a profit way ahead of my original projections. I want you to let me buy you out in instalments linked to my new forecasts.’
‘You are asking me to take my share of the farm off the negotiating table and find another buyer for Pearl Island?’
‘Yeah, that’s right. You’ll find another buyer for sure.’
She enjoyed looking deeply into his eyes while she now had the upper hand.
‘Let’s go and open some oysters while I think about it,’ she said to him casually.
Chapter Thirty Four
Three hours later, Leo and Isla were still sitting opposite each other on stools at their workstations in the lab and, together, they had opened over a thousand oysters. In those oysters they had found hundreds of pearls. Isla’s back was stiff and her shoulders were aching. Her fingers were cut and sore, even through her plastic gloves, with handling all the rough sharp shells, but she was elated with the results. The first pearl harvest had far exceeded Leo’s projections and expectations. Their mood had lifted and they were buzzing with excitement with every pearl born.
‘Come over to the house tonight. We can have a civilised farewell dinner on the porch and open some champagne.’ Isla suggested.
He shook his head. His eyes preferring to remain on a pearl rather than her. ‘I’m not really in the mood for a celebration.’
She realised she was being incredibly insensitive. Having been focussed on pearls for the past few hours, she had momentarily forgotten that Leo was in mourning.
‘But I’ll come over if we can talk some more about my proposal?’ he added.
Her heart missed a beat. ‘What? What do you mean, your p-p-proposal?’
‘The one about me buying you out. You told me you’d think about it.’
Isla gave herself a mental shake. ‘Oh yes. Of course. Sure, we can discuss it then.’
At that moment, Anya popped her head around the door. ‘Leo, there’s a phone call for you.’
‘Tell them I’m busy.’
‘It’s a man called Pollard. He says he’s from a lawyer’s office on Grand Cayman.’
Leo frowned. He didn’t like lawyers or any dealings with them.
‘You should take it,’ Isla told him.
Leo took the call in the screening room and made sure to close the door.
‘Mr Fernandez, I’m calling you regarding your late uncle’s estate,’ Mr Pollard told him. ‘Is it possible for me to fly over to Pearl Island to hold a meeting with you in the next few days?’
Leo laughed. ‘I’m afraid my uncle didn’t own an estate. I think you must be mistaken.’
‘On the contrary, Mr Fernandez. Your uncle has an account in his name with the Grand Cayman Bank; the balance of which has been left to you as his only beneficiary.’
Leo fell silent for a few moments. He knew Jack had lived frugally in his last years because he’d spent everything he’d ever had on paying for his protection while he’d been in prison. If there was anything left in a bank, then it had to have something to do with drug money or money laundering or something else that was highly illegal and he wanted nothing to do with any of it.
‘So how about I fly out this afternoon, Mr Fernandez?’
Leo shook his head. ‘No. I’ll come to you, and I’d like to keep this matter entirely private.’
‘Of course. I’ll send a plane to pick you up.’
It was four o’clock in the afternoon when Leo arrived at the offices of Pollard & Smith in George Town, Grand Cayman. He was invited through to a plush office that smelt of beeswax and old books, where Mr Pollard, a tall thin man with a pallid complexion, greeted him.
‘Good afternoon, Mr Fernandez. My deepest condolences on your loss.’
Leo nodded. ‘Thank you, but please, call me Leo.’
Mr Pollard swept his hand in the direction of a leather seat in front of his desk. ‘Please, Leo, sit down.’
Leo sat quietly as Mr Pollard went around to his side of the desk, where a file marked J. Fernandez lay.
‘Your uncle had assets on account here in the Caymans and as his executor, it is my duty to inform you that you are his sole heir and beneficiary. He also has a deposit box, which I have taken the trouble to acquire for you, with contents again bequeathed to you upon his death.’
Leo stood. ‘Look, I know you are just doing your job and following instructions here, Mr Pollard, but I want nothing to do with any of those assets and contents. As much as I loved my uncle, I know he is sure to have acquired them illegally. I am not like him, and I certainly don’t want to waste any more of your valuable time. So I’ll say thank you, but no thank you, and good day.’
‘Leo, please sit down. These assets are approved legally acquired funds. You are obviously unaware that your uncle was awarded royalties for salvaging cargo off the coast of Cortes in the 1980s. These funds were deposited by the Spanish chancery and are therefore legitimate gains.’
‘Are you talking about treasure salvaged from the Santa Valez?’ he asked in astonishment.
‘Yes, amongst others. The funds bequeathed to you in his Last Will and Testament have remained undrawn and protected in the Cayman banking system for many years and have attracted considerable interest rates and compounded value.’
Leo tried to take in this information. For the past ten years, he’d assumed Jack had been a fraud.
‘Well, I never! You mean to tell me that Jack’s fantastic stories about the shipwrecks off Cortes, and all the other wrecks from which he said he’d claimed royalties, were actually true?’
Mr Pollard got up and went over to his wet bar to get Leo a drink. He placed a large measure of bourbon with two ice cubes in front of Leo.
Leo laughed. ‘Thanks. I suppose I look like I need that right now?’
‘No. That’s for when I tell you how much you’ve inherited.’
With the contents of Jack’s deposit box in his backpack and in his pocket, Leo decided to check into a hotel. He needed to take in what had just happened and he needed to get his head around what was possible now. He also needed another drink.
While walking down towards the famous Seven Mile Beach, to the hostel where he had once before stayed while in George Town, he had to pass by the ivory tower that was the Cayman Grand Hotel, by far one of the plushest in this part of the Caribbean.
He stopped and looked at it curiously, noting the perfectly clipped green lawns around its perimeter, the impeccably placed palm trees that lined the entrance driveway, the finely dressed types of people who walked through its magnificent doors. He glanced over the type of cars that were parked outside. All the Ferraris and Porsches. All fancy boys’ toys, he thought to himself, and then stood corrected as a gorgeous looking woman in tiny white shorts and a white crop top climbed out of a Lamborghini and tossed the keys over to a waiting valet.
Then he thought about Isla and how she’d looked today in her shorts and
cropped top. His loins ached from the memory. Was she completely unaware of the effect she had on him or was she doing it on purpose? He suspected the latter.
He wandered towards the Grand Hotel knowing he could easily afford to stay at a place like this now. He tipped back his head and looked up into the sky and at the tower building and wondered what the view would be like from the top. A moment later, he was walking boldly into the lobby and was so impressed by it all that he just stood there for a few minutes, agog at the marble walls, the plush sofas and chairs, the indoor greenery and the enormous displays of tropical flowers. There was a huge centre statement piece of a crystal glass chandelier and an opulent staircase, at the top of which was a waterfall, no less.
There were shops in the foyer too, an exclusive mini-mall for the wealthy, consisting of men’s and women’s boutiques, bespoke jewellers, and an exclusive looking champagne outlet. In the window of the men’s store stood a mannequin amidst a faux-beach scene. It was wearing smart knee-length chinos and a pale cream collared shirt worn open at the neck. On its head was a cream Panama hat, worn at a jaunty angle, that Leo imagined himself wearing.
In his old linen shorts and a clearly not quite stylish enough for this place T-shirt and baseball cap, he was immediately aware of being assessed by the uniformed staff who were suddenly all around him.
‘Checking in, sir?’ he was asked.
Leo smiled confidently and asked about a room. He was then escorted to the reception desk, where a polished looking receptionist began typing onto a keyboard and staring at a computer screen.
‘And the name, sir?’
‘Fernandez.’
There was another flurry of typing while the receptionist looked increasingly perplexed.
‘I don’t seem to have you in our system. When did you make your reservation?’
Leo sighed. ‘I didn’t make a reservation. I’ve just arrived. Is that a problem?’
More typing. Leo looked down at his watch.
‘I’m sorry, sir, It’s just that it’s high season and—’
‘I’d like the penthouse and I’ll be paying cash,’ Leo insisted, taking a roll of hundred dollar bills from his pocket.
From his suite on the top floor of the Grand Hotel, Leo called Mr Pollard on his cell phone for an update on their plan. At the same time, he saw that he’d missed a call from Isla. He listened to her message but he had absolutely no intention of calling her back. This time was all hers and he hoped she would use it wisely.
‘Everything is now in place just as you requested, Leo. Now we wait,’ Mr Pollard told him.
Leo slipped the phone into his pocket and poured himself another bourbon. He walked out onto his rooftop terrace and gazed out into the distant horizon in the direction of Pearl Island.
He sighed. The events of the day lay heavily on his mind and his overwhelming loss of Jack lay heavily on his heart. Thanks to Jack he was now a wealthy man but he missed him terribly and he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to get through the rest of his life without the benefit of his rotten guidance and rogue advice. He had all his memories of course. No one could take them away. They’d been through some unforgettable times – good and bad - but it had always been an adventure.
He raised his glass in the air. ‘Wherever you are… here’s to you, Jack.’
Then he slugged the drink back and turned his thoughts to Isla, whom he guessed by now would be in the process of making the most important decision of her life, not realising that it was also going to be her ultimate test and the final showdown between them.
The deal was all set up. If Isla sold Pearl Island to the new and anonymous buyer, snatching up five million dollars within the specified thirty-minute deadline, then he would stay here tonight and drown his sorrows in bourbon. He’d return to the island tomorrow, after she’d left, and he’d never see her again.
In that case, he would get on with his life knowing for sure that she didn’t love him and that there was nothing he could do about it. He would have a broken heart but he would not be a broken man. No. If she’d managed to get over him then he would eventually get over her.
She called again. This time, she didn’t leave a voicemail. He sighed and took a gulp from his drink. There was no way he would give her the satisfaction of speaking to him as a courtesy. To listen to her explanations on why she was willing to throw it all away. The island. The pearl farm. Him. His phone rang yet again. She left another voice mail.
‘Call me back, Leo!’ she pleaded.
No way. Not while she contemplated on selling out on all the people that used to mean something to her: Grace and Carlos and Anya and her family, and all the families who lived on and loved Pearl Island and thought of it as their only home.
He steeled himself for the reality of the worst-case scenario.
He checked the time and sat down to put his head in his hands.
He imagined her on the phone right at that moment, telling Mr Smith to accept the offer.
If so, then she would be the biggest loser this time around.
Hell, who was he kidding?
If she sold the island, then it was him who was the biggest loser.
Come on Isla. Do the right thing…
The next few minutes were going to be the longest of his life.
Chapter Thirty Five
‘Leo has told me that he won’t sell his interest in the pearl farm to Mr Goldman,’ Isla told Mr Smith over the phone. ‘In fact, he’s flown off island to have a meeting with Mr Pollard, whom I assume you share office space with over there in George Town. Perhaps you can talk some sense into Leo? But one way or another, I’d appreciate knowing our options before I leave for the UK tomorrow?’
‘Please don’t worry, Miss Ashton. Leave it with me. I’ll find out what I can and call you back.’
Isla couldn’t help but worry. She hated unfinished business and loose ends and so she paced the room. When her phone rang a short time later, she pounced on it. ‘Let’s have it, Mr Smith.’
‘The bad news is that Mr Goldman has backed out as we expected. But the good news is that we have another offer on the table.’
Isla’s relief was palpable. ‘Oh, wow! Well, that is good news.’
‘Indeed, it is. You have been offered the asking price but on the strict proviso that we accept the offer by five pm this afternoon. You’ll be pleased to hear that this time there is no mention nor interest expressed in taking over Leo’s share in the pearl farm.’
‘Oh, okay. That is good.’
‘Is that an okay to go ahead and complete the sale, Miss Ashton?’
Isla caught her breath. ‘Erm, wait. You said the buyer is anonymous. Only, I’d really like to know what the buyer intends to do with Pearl Island. I mean, if they plan to build some kind of resort on it or something. This part of the Caribbean is relatively unspoiled and I’ll need some reassurance that the lives and livelihoods of the people who live on the island will be protected in some way.’
‘Well, that is admirable, of course. But, like I said, there has been a time limit imposed by the interested party and we don’t have those details, I’m afraid,’ Mr Smith replied.
‘Isn’t that a bit strange?’ Isla queried.
‘Not strange at all in the Caymans, Miss Ashton, where business is often conducted in confidence. We will, of course, find out all the finer details from the purchaser’s lawyers once the sale has been completed, if that will satisfy your curiosity.’
Isla decided she desperately needed to speak to Leo.
‘You said we had until five pm, Mr Smith. Only I’d like to make a phone call before we go ahead.’
‘You have twenty-five minutes, Miss Ashton. But I suggest you call me back as soon as you can.’
Isla ended the call and walked out onto the porch. She called Leo on her cell phone but it went straight to answer phone. She left a message and stared out at the sparkling sea. Selling the island suddenly felt horribly risky. She thought about her own promise to Grace
and Minister John’s promise to stay on the island for another ten years or until his death. How would she face them if they lost their island home as they knew it because of a new owner? Or, if the village with its mish-mash of shacks and boathouses built on sticks out on the water was seen as an eyesore and demolished to make way for a high-tech marina or an all-inclusive luxury resort.
But then, if she wasn’t actually here, she wouldn’t have to face anything. She could simply take the five million dollars and move on.
Couldn’t she?
But how would she drive her business forward if Leo blacklisted her as a client? What would become of the pearl farm if a ruthless business mogul took over and pushed Leo out?
Now it suddenly felt like she was being short-sighted rather than focussed.
She sighed in despair. Earlier today, she’d been so sure that she was doing the right thing. That her business interests and her life didn’t belong on Pearl Island. The pearl farm was an asset, but if it came with Leo as a partner then she’d never be able to let go of the past. Or him.
And that was what she wanted.
Wasn’t it?
She realised she was breathing too hard and tried to calm herself.
This was a simple choice and there were only two possible ways for this to go.
Take the money and move on with her life. Or accept the alternative.
So what was the alternative? To stay here on the island and make it her home. To be an active partner in the pearl farm and grow her business from here. To explore the possibility that she and Leo were actually meant to be together. Is that how the story ends, after all?
She heard Kate’s words in her ear as surely as if she had been standing beside her.
‘That is, if after all this time, you are still in love with him.’
Well? Was she?
She tried to call Leo again and the call went to his voicemail. She checked the time.
Come on Leo, call me back, please!
But her phone remained stoically silent.
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