by Debbie Flint
‘Well, yes, but I’ve done it before and I can do it again.’ Sadie looked pensive for a second. ‘Anyway, studies have to be scientifically correct, and usually take an age to complete and be published. If you have contacts, it can help speed up that side of things.’
‘That’s why you think you got offered this opportunity by Bill Galloway? Your scientific mind?’
‘Yes. And because he sees dead people.’
Mac’s eyebrows raised in surprise, then fell again when he realised she was playing with him. Then she got all serious once more.
‘Without the publications in peer-reviewed journals you just can’t get through to today’s cynical scientific community. And the results on peak power output we’ve already seen in just two preliminary trials—’
‘You’re talking just like a scientist!’
‘That’ll be because I am a scientist, remember? I ran the lab.’
‘You ran it?’
‘Don’t tell me you thought I was just a researcher?’
‘I didn’t … realise.’
More silence. More assumptions. Mac had really gone and done it now. Sadie sighed.
‘Well, at least you know, now.’
‘There’s a whole lot I know, now.’
‘Don’t worry. Read your document in full and you’ll know the rest as well. ’
‘I’m sorry if I didn’t have you down as a proper scientist type,’ he said.
‘It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last. It’s my fault for being blonde.’ Sadie looked hurt, angry and insulted all at once.
‘Well, you don’t look like the picture in your file, that’s for sure.’
‘I was fed up of being brunette. Serious businesswomen just don’t look like me, huh?’
Mac’s heart clenched, and a wave of protectiveness swept over him. Say something – make it better, make it better. Or get the hell away from here.
‘It’s just … you know, no beard or sandals you see. What with you being so beautiful and all.’
Sadie rolled her eyes and pursed her mouth.
Oops, made it worse.
‘I’ll cope. I always have,’ she said. ‘Just as I cope with life. I come with my own long list of baggage – which you would have known about, had you done your reading, Mr Anderson. Yes, for the record, it shouldn’t really matter what I look like. I’m a single, divorced mother, running a business on my own, travelling away from home, taking care of my kids, and even remembering to put the bins out on a Thursday. I do it. I’m a woman – it’s hard but I cope.’
Mac caught the mood, and shut up. The silence strung out a little too long for comfort. Was he reading this right? He looked around him before lowering his voice and leaning in conspiratorially.
‘Sadie, I have a suggestion for you.’ He swallowed. He was taking a punt but she had a lot on her plate. Maybe this would make it easier.
‘You seem a bit stressed. Maybe it’s the sudden extra trip I thrust upon you. Would you like to just go home when we get to the tech-stop halfway? I don’t mind. I’m sure Alexis and the team can take it from here.’
Sadie’s eyes widened. Mac thought he was onto a winner, so he continued. ‘In fact, how about this, although you’ll still get your commission – and you will of course help with the studies … er, manage all the studies – I really don’t mind if you want to take a less hands-on role from now on. If you think it’s best. Maybe one of your colleagues would be willing to take over the donkey work …’ He paused. ‘In the lab, so you have more time to …’
Sadie bit her lip and breathed deeply.
Uh-oh.
‘To be with the kids? Focus on the store? From what you’re saying you’re needed there really, if that’s where your heart lies? You’ve brought it this far, and there are dozens of professionals in my organisation who’ve done this type of thing before.’
‘No, thank you,’ she said curtly. Her lips were pursed and her knuckles were white, her hands were clenching so hard.
‘Tell you what, I’ll offer you an advance. You could buy your mum out now – that’s what it’s all about ultimately, isn’t it? Sounds like you’ve got a lot going on, and well, some people may be expecting it.’
‘Some people including you? Now you know I’ve got kids? Well, “some people” are going to be disappointed,’ she snapped. ‘Don’t forget I’m the one the Frish people want to run the contract for the studies. Because I can get them the claims they need faster than anyone else on this planet. And what’s more, I can front-up the marketing and PR – handle difficult questions and so on. Explaining the new studies to the layman or to ruthless journalists isn’t something “one of your people” will be able to do as easily as you think. And don’t underestimate me. Why do people always underestimate me? Sorry, Mister Big Shot, thanks, but no thanks. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.’
Holding her gaze just a little too long, Mac felt the draw towards her, and the warmth stirring again in his groin.
Dammit, I’m about to lose control.
Sadie, on the other hand, had reached a pinkish shade of purple.
Shit, and now so is she.
Mac ran his hands through his hair.
Sadie was looking at him through narrowed eyes.
‘I’m sorry, Sadie, I just thought I’d ask. I was thinking of you – the kids. I’m only interested in the deal working out.’ Again that look – only worse. ‘But don’t worry – your CV stacks up, you were passed by the due diligence team, so if you really think you can handle this yourself, and be a mother, then I guess …’
Her big green eyes flared up from beneath long lashes, as she took a sharp intake of breath. Mac continued, sensing that if there had been a window nearby that she could open, Sadie would have flung him out of it.
‘I guess that means you’re a lucky woman.’
She stood up, whispering. Somehow she seemed more menacing when she whispered like that. ‘Well, thank you, Mister Anderson, for that vote of confidence. If I didn’t know better, I’d tell you to—’
‘Mac, we’ve got an update from … oh, I’m sorry.’ Alexis chose that moment to appear, looking fresh as a daisy, with newly-applied make-up and pristine clothes. She was loaded up with files and notes. Mac straightened up. Enough of this.
‘That’s quite okay, Alexis. I think we’ve said all there is to say. Wouldn’t you agree, Sadie?’
Alexis’s sideways glance to Mac was met with a brief nod. Sadie watched as Alexis just carried on, and leaned near him to place the pile on the coffee table. Admittedly it was a bit too near. His face turned to a frown as he caught Sadie’s raised eyebrows.
‘Sadie, I hope you enjoy the flight. Anything else, the girls back there will help fulfil your needs.’
‘And the guys,’ chirped Carlo, walking by, winking at them. ‘Would you like me to accompany you back to your seat, Miss Turner?’
‘It’s Ms,’ said both Sadie and Mac together.
Mac’s self-talk continued later, during his second frantic treadmill session this flight.
Nothing good came of getting too close to anyone he did business with, he knew that to his cost. He’d learnt the hard way many years ago. He tutted and shook his head. So no romance this trip. Not with Sadie Samantha Businesswoman anyway. She’d said ‘one night’ and one night it was.
Whatever. It really made no difference even if she’d been the one to want more after all this – a rule is a rule is a rule.
She was now out of bounds, seriously, completely, one hundred per cent, out of bounds. Even more so since she was a single mother. Bad news. When you walked out you didn’t just walk away from the woman – you walked away from the kids as well. And I ain’t going there again. Ever.
Women could make very good business partners, d
riven, focused and free from distractions. But it was rare. It was no coincidence therefore, that all of his CEOs were men. He knew it was old-school, but he took no chances.
Yes, you were right to make her the offer – thinking of the deal, always what’s best for the deal.
And any more thoughts of pleasure were forbidden. They were not – repeat not – to be about any woman. For the foreseeable future. Dammit – if she could do it, so could he.
Back in his seat, Mac smiled a satisfied smile to himself and allowed one last indulgent reminiscence. Then he shook himself to ward off any further fanciful feelings as far as Sadie was concerned. Nice to be back on track, thought Mac.
Totally.
From now on, it would be just him. Women were trouble. And this one was undoubtedly more trouble than most.
Chapter Nine
Nothing could have prepared Sadie for the heat and humidity as she cast her eyes on ‘real summer Hawaii’ for the very first time now the weather had turned into full-on summer. Unlike her first arrival at Kona International airport two weeks ago for the marketing conference on the big island, Kapalua airport here on Maui was quite stark – apart from some garlands and a colourful Hula girl taking pictures for tourists, and a faint smell of hibiscus.
Sadie breathed in the warm early afternoon air, humid and fragrant, deeply inhaling, and feeling her shoulders relax. Her magical mystery tour was continuing and the next crucial steps were just around the corner. She wouldn’t forgive Mac in a hurry though. It wasn’t the first time she felt belittled about what she was capable of – by someone who mattered. She’d divorced the last one, but the wounds were all too easily reopened.
Maybe she’d allow herself the tiniest sulk on the way to the hotel.
Sadie was ushered into the waiting minibus along with the staff, while Mac and BJ were guided beneath huge sun umbrellas to their waiting limousine.
The journey wasn’t far, but Mac began to wish he’d travelled alone as, despite the cool air-conditioning of the sleek saloon, BJ was like a furnace sitting next to him leaking sweat all over the seats.
Watching Sadie sitting on the back seat of the minibus in front of them, laughing and glowing, his heart filled with derision.
She could turn on the charm when she wanted to, couldn’t she?
Especially with her fellow passengers, many of whom she’d befriended during the final stages of the flight, much to Mac’s annoyance. He felt a twinge of an ancient emotion – could it be jealousy? Really? Now that would be ridiculous. No, it had to be frustration, that’s what it was – frustration at being wrong-footed so badly. Several times. And all within forty-eight hours.
When they arrived at the hotel, Mac jumped out of the car with relief but reached the minibus just as Sadie emerged. He smiled – courteously – and held out his hand to help her dismount. She looked like she was about to refuse, but then she glanced at his staff gathering all around them, and seemingly changed her mind. With a gracious smile, albeit not with her eyes, Sadie slid her hand into his and stepped down from the minibus. Her hand felt soft, warm. He held it for only a couple of seconds, but he felt the warmth of it long afterwards. As he watched her rear disappear into the hotel in front of him, without a backwards glance from her, he wondered if he should make sure his room was as far away from hers as possible – or as near as he could get.
Two hours later, Mac returned from the gym and opened the door to his hotel room, wiping down his perspiration with a towel. He stripped naked, then walked into the shower, not noticing a note being slid underneath his door.
After getting dried, he sat with just a towel draped around his waist, and threw open a big vertical trunk. It went almost everywhere he travelled, and had been packed by his valet for the flight – super-fast, as usual.
He reached past the designer suit bags into the back section and brought out an old, battered wooden jewellery chest with rusting black iron rivets holding it in place, and a chunky padlock. Retrieving the key from a concealed pocket in the trunk, Mac opened the chest and looked inside.
His tank watch sat there, plus the thin gold chain with the silver St Christopher that had sat around his neck on the boat yesterday afternoon. He put it back on ultra-carefully.
But before he closed the lid, he hesitated. At the bottom of the wooden chest, right at the very bottom, some old photos and a sheaf of papers cried out to be touched. He picked them up. Perhaps in this state of flux it was the right time – maybe like this he could deal with the distant past. Where he began. Where he reinvented himself. Before any women got in the way or rivals put a fly in the ointment.
This tightly bound package was the link to his roots – and it was the photos that opened the doorway the widest. An old creaking doorway that unleashed an avalanche of memories filled with pain and regret. He knew he could never forget, but found it difficult to force himself to remember.
Is it time to look? Has it been long enough?
A pained expression crossed Mac’s features and he breathed out slowly. Removing the first photo from the stack, he gazed upon a twenty-year-old group shot – a dozen or so raggle-taggle children, all boys, in front of a building in serious need of a paint job. A young Mac stood on the end, by far the tallest, and a smaller, skinnier lad with sandy hair rested his head against Mac’s shoulder, his hand covering his face. As it always had in photos. Mac inhaled sharply and shook his head.
No, not tonight.
He delicately replaced the old curled up photographs and papers, then laid the bundle carefully back at the bottom of the chest and locked it. Gingerly he slid the chest back into its resting place in the expensive trunk, and closed it once more.
Towel drying his hair, he walked out of the bedroom and noticed for the first time the small envelope by the door. What the …? Opening it, Mac noticed rounded handwriting on hotel notepaper and read the name. It was from Sadie.
Dear Mac
I know we haven’t got off to the best start. But we both need each other – so to speak – to make this deal work. I admit I was very offended at your insinuation that my children would prevent me doing a good job, and you must have your reasons. But I assure you, I won’t let you down.
Can I ask that we be civil to each other, at least? Since we will be in such close proximity for the next couple of days? Then, after that, as you suggested, we need not see each other again – in any capacity – unless we absolutely have to.
I am very sorry for what happened between us, in the way it did, anyway.
Plus, you’re very generous to have put your faith in me and the product, and I want to thank you. I do believe that we can do great things together. So to speak.
Either that or drive each other mad. Joke.
See you later at the dinner.
Sadie Samantha Businesswoman.
Smiley face.
Mac smiled. If there was one thing this woman had, it was guts.
Considering it was early hours of the morning body-clock wise, most of the entourage had an afternoon nap. Then, that night, after a bracing wash and brush up in the coldest shower she could stand, Sadie appeared at the top of a long sweep of stairs, and felt full of trepidation. Far below, people were talking and laughing, people she had to impress.
But first she had to get down there.
Several people turned to look at her as she took her life in her hands and descended. She realised their eyes were following the progress of ‘those’ heels clacking down the precarious looking staircase. Slow, slow progress.
‘Taking up stunt work?’ said a voice at her ear as she exhaled a big breath having reached the bottom step. She jumped slightly, but knew from the cologne who it was – Mac. Dammit, she knew from her body’s reaction to the memory of that cologne. Mac’s strong steadying hand held her elbow.
‘It’s a posh do! I had two choi
ces and I didn’t think you’d want me to turn up in my Ugly boots.’
‘Do you mean Ugg boots?’
‘No, I actually mean Emu boots, but I didn’t think you’d know the difference.’
‘You’d be surprised what I know about women’s footwear. I invested in an Australian manufacturers once. You know what? Our first task tomorrow morning, “partner”, should be to make sure we buy you different shoes.’
‘We? I’ll buy my own if that’s okay.’
‘That’s actually what I meant.’
‘That’s actually not how it sounded.’ She shook her elbow free and noticed him looking her up and down. ‘And don’t worry, I’ll buy myself a different dress too.’ Damn the man, starting me off again. Damn all of them. Get the deal done, that’s what matters.
‘But I like this dress,’ he added.
‘I bet you do.’
‘I got your note.’
‘Good.’
‘It was under my door.’
‘I know. I put it there.’
‘I forgive you,’ he said.
‘Hmm. You do, do you? Well, I’m still mad at you – a bit,’ she snipped.
‘But you’ll let it go, right? Entente cordiale and all that?’
‘No, I’ll have champagne.’
Mac made a ‘ha-ha’ face.
‘Anyway, while you were busy preparing for your Hollywood entrance, I was sniffing around. We might have a problem,’ he said, handing her a drink from a passing waiter.
‘Oh?’
‘Bill Galloway’s son, Peter. Apparently he swings towards Tremain’s methods of doing business more than anyone knew. Tremain’s been weaselling away behind the scenes this last week. Peter now wants his big bucks via the fastest route possible. Could mean trouble. We need to get him on side.’
‘Which side would you like me to get him on, exactly?’ She arched an eyebrow and Mac looked away. ‘I’ll do what I can – apart from any more role play,’ she breezed, heading off in the direction of the table chart. One quick place setting shuffle, with the aid of the maître d’, and Sadie had herself sat right next to the person in question.