"Good luck with that," he sneered. "Without accommodation, you won't have any staff. Lorikeet Island is one of the most remote mines in the world. Have you ever been there? Fourteen metre tides, cyclones that flatten everything in their path, and the only way in or out of there is by plane, and the storm damaged the air strip. You can't fly people in from town every day. The only reason Lorikeet Island stayed open as long as it has is because of the old resort accommodation your mother bought out back in the eighties. And what's left of that is under a couple metres of mud. So unless you have another hotel approved and ready to go on that island, it'll be a decade before you dig up anything else there. Just because you're a Vasse, doesn't mean you understand this business, little girl. Your mother was twice the businesswoman you'll ever be, and she couldn't hold a candle to her father. Why don't you go for another one of your little secret holidays that you think no one knows about? Drink cocktails and cavort with cabana boys like you usually do, while you leave running a billion-dollar business to those of us who know what we're doing."
Harrison. The spineless twerp was a spy for Stewart. His days were numbered.
"Maybe I will," Gaia spat, deciding not to tell Stewart about the real motives behind her planned trip north. "And when I get back, we'll discuss the future of Lorikeet Island. And your future with my company."
Stewart snorted, then left without another word.
Arrogant ass, she thought, fixing her gaze on the photograph of her and Mother. How did Mother put up with him so long? Mother had been one of the world's richest women, if not the richest, and all that now belonged to her. Mother hadn't made all that money by being an idiot. But if she'd been bullied by Stewart all this time...
Gaia shook her head. She wasn't her mother. No man would ever get the best of her.
She'd go to the Buccaneer Archipelago and see Lorikeet Island for herself, then regroup at the resort as she worked out how best to proceed with rebuilding her family's flagship mine. All she needed was somewhere for her staff to stay...
What had Stewart said about a resort? Another hotel approved and ready to go, as though he thought that was impossible. Perhaps it was, but what about one that was already built? Romance Island Resort, for instance.
Let Stewart think she was messing around with cabana boys. Instead, she'd stage the coup of the century and acquire the resort. Who would say no to the richest woman in the world?
No one, that's who.
FIVE
"What did you say your name was again?" a vague-sounding female voice asked.
"Gaia Vasse," she snapped, almost spitting the words into her telephone. What kind of idiot hadn't heard of her?
"Can you spell that, please?"
Gritting her teeth, Gaia did as requested, before the useless girl's reply was drowned out by another woman's shouting.
"You're not going because you announced on national television that we've opened the resort to terrorists. I've had ASIO sniffing around all week, wanting to see our guest lists, while our IT guys report almost daily hacker attacks. It's unheard of. What possessed you to say something so stupid?"
She sounded English, though her accent wasn't the refined sort Gaia preferred. No, this woman was as common as they came. One of the hotel staff, then. Definitely not a guest.
An Aussie male voice piped up, more annoyed than angry. "I said we welcomed guests of all nationalities and religions. Anyone who found it too cold in Russia or too hot in Syria would find Romance Island Resort a perfect sanctuary where their privacy is our priority. Tell me what about that makes it sound like I'm inviting terrorists to stay here!"
"That's exactly what I'm talking about. Every word makes it sound that way, and you don't get it! That's why I'll manage the media for the resort from now on. I don't have time to go to Perth, but now some ASIO Agent Dunn calls me every day until I fly down so he can interrogate me. No way are you going anywhere near that convention. You'll only make matters worse. Leave the business side of things for those of us who know what we're doing. Why don't you just go back to banging every fangirl you can find and let me do my job?"
"Flavia isn't a fangirl." The man's voice was reproachful.
"Fine, go back to banging whoever, then. Some of us have to work."
"Oh, Ms Lane?" the girl on the other end of the phone simpered.
"It's Vasse, not Lane," Gaia snapped.
The girl ignored her. "Ms Lane, I have Guy Vast on the phone for you."
"Who?" A sigh. "I'll take it in my office. Thanks, Philly."
The idiot receptionist was named for a horse? It figured. She wouldn't last more than five minutes in Vasse Prospecting. If the three people Gaia had just heard were an example of the incompetence of the staff at the resort, it would be hers within the week. Gaia smiled.
"Putting you through now," the girl announced, and her irritating voice was replaced with ringing.
"Hello, this is Xan Lane," the bored Englishwoman answered.
"I asked to be put through to the hotel manager," Gaia replied icily.
"That's me," the woman said easily. "I thought this was about a Mr Vast. Are you his assistant? Our receptionist should be able to handle all your booking requests."
"I'm no one's assistant," Gaia snapped. "My name is Gaia Vasse, and I'm interested in buying your hotel."
Silence, broken by a smooth, "What a lovely surprise, Miss Vasse. My condolences on the loss of your mother."
At least she recognised the name, and knew who she was. That was a start.
Xan continued, "But I'm afraid the resort is no longer for sale. The new owner took possession in January."
As if Gaia only bought properties listed on the open market. "Five months is hardly enough time to get attached to the place. Or for you to get accustomed to the change in management. I assure you, this is the best offer you'll ever get for the place. Especially with the proposed mine extension on your doorstep."
More silence. "You're planning on expanding the mine at Lorikeet Island? I'd understood from Mr Stewart last week that the shutdown team would be here as soon as the dry season starts. He made sure to assure me that the increased shipping traffic wouldn't impact on the resort or disturb our guests. This is a very exclusive resort, Miss Vasse, as I'm sure you'd appreciate. The sort of place people like yourself choose for their holidays."
For all her common accent, the hotel manager wasn't too bad at talking business. Not in Gaia's league, though. "So I understand. Which is why I'll be flying up to inspect it for myself. We should meet in person to discuss the proposed sale of the resort."
Xan coughed. "You really should discuss this with the owner, not me, Miss Vasse. He has his own plans for the place. I just manage it, and I'll continue to do that, regardless of who owns the resort."
A possible future employee. One who knew what she was doing. Gaia restrained herself from rubbing her hands in glee. "Oh, I think we should keep it between us businesswomen. When we've worked out all the details, then you can bring my proposal to the owner as a done deal. No need to bother him just yet."
"If you say so, Miss Vasse. I'll get Philly to arrange the meeting. I look forward to it."
As she ended the call, satisfaction bloomed in Gaia's chest. She'd give the woman increased shipping traffic. A mine shutdown was nothing compared to an expansion. By the time she was done explaining the changes to the hotel manager, the woman would hand her the resort at a bargain price, because no guest would want to stay in a mining port. She could move her staff in next month.
SIX
On the screen, a bride glided down the church aisle on what Gaia presumed was her father's arm. All eyes, phones and flashing cameras turned toward the veiled image of virginity. A collective sigh sounded as the older man lifted the veil and kissed his daughter's cheek. Bridesmaids scuttled around her, settling her veil beneath her pinned curls. The groom's triumphant leer told the world that he didn't care for the veil or the dress, but the naked girl beneath them, who he intended to do al
l sorts of things to as soon as possible.
The girl ducked her head in response, as if to hide her blush. She turned slightly to scan the congregation, a lost look on her face as if she'd suddenly realised she might not like losing her virginity.
The priest clicked on his microphone and cleared his throat.
The bride stiffened, as if she'd suddenly grown a spine, and she snatched the microphone out of the man's hands. "I don't want to do this," she said in a breathy voice.
Laughter erupted from the congregation.
"But thanks to this arsehole, I have to," she continued.
All laughter died.
"He wanted us to save ourselves for marriage. He swore if I would, he'd do the same. Did you, James?" She turned to the groom.
"Of course, Vee," he drawled.
"Lying through your teeth in a church, you lying sack of shit. Just like you said you'd call off the wedding when I told you I knew you'd slept with a prostitute a few weeks ago. You can stick this wedding up your arse, James, just like you did to her." The bride drew her bouquet over her shoulder, then let it fly. The ball of roses hit the ceiling in an explosion of white petals, before landing among the congregation. A scuffle broke out, but the noise was muffled by the bride with the microphone as she added, "Fire it up, Vi. Show them what he did."
A projector screen behind the altar burst into a blur of colour, which resolved into a sordid scene between a couple who looked like they were having sex on a table.
"But I did it for you, Vee. She was showing me how to give you a good time!" the groom wailed.
"You aren't worth my time." The bride kneed him in the groin, then stormed out of the church.
Harrison laughed so hard he had to wipe his eyes. That's when he noticed Gaia standing behind him. "Have you seen this?" he asked her. "It's the funniest thing I've ever seen. The video of him having sex went viral a few weeks ago, and it's like the next chapter. It's been up for a couple of days and already it's had over two million views."
Gaia didn't crack a smile. "I can see why. You've already watched it four times. On company time."
Harrison's face fell. "Nah, I'm on my lunch break."
"It doesn't matter. Company policy on using office computers for pornographic material says it's instant dismissal," Gaia said steadily. "Goodbye, Harrison."
Harrison waved at the screen. "But...that's not pornography! It's a wedding! Everyone was still dressed!"
"The sex tape on the screen looked pretty pornographic to me. We can take it up with HR, if you like, and leave the definition up to them, or you can just resign." She kept her eyes on him. She wouldn't blink first.
Harrison hung his head. "I guess I could find another job in the next two weeks while I finish up here."
"I said instant dismissal. Pack your things and get out."
"But – " Harrison reconsidered and closed his mouth. He tucked his wallet and phone into his pockets, grabbed his coffee mug and slouched out.
Good riddance, Gaia thought. She hadn't expected getting rid of Harrison to be as easy as...the bride breaking up with the groom. If it had been her, she'd have set the guy up with the prostitute, to test his loyalty. After all, the cameraman with the viral videos had been so conveniently in the right place at the right time. That was no accident.
"You're nothing like your mother," Harrison spat, appearing in the doorway. He must have found his balls outside, or some sort of courage. "She never would have thrown out family."
"Are we related?" Distantly, through marriage, perhaps, Gaia thought, but she didn't remember him from anywhere aside from the desk he'd just vacated.
"My father worked himself into an early death in your family's asbestos mines. I'm all Mum's got left, and the government won't pay for the medicine she needs to stay alive. She'll die if you fire me." He jutted a defiant chin for what Gaia suspected was the first time in his life.
She shrugged. "You should have thought of your mother when you chose to watch pornography in the office. At least you have the luxury of a mother who's still alive. I'm not wallowing because my mother is gone, or wasting my time watching other people having sex." She didn't mention that she had just done so – four times, in fact, as a familiar heat grew between her thighs. She wondered what it would be like to be taken over a table like that. It wasn't something any of her male partners had dared to do to her. Ugh. Was she seriously considering sex in such an uncomfortable position, without being in control? She needed to scratch that itch and soon.
"Bitch," Harrison snarled, then stomped out.
Gaia didn't deign to reply. He was beneath her, after all. Would she ever meet anyone who wasn't?
SEVEN
"More champagne, ma'am?" the air hostess asked. She didn't seem to care that the clashing combination of pink and orange on her uniform was hideous. Or perhaps she didn't know.
Gaia shook her head and the woman in the garish dress left her alone with her Financial Review. A glance out the window told her that they weren't in Broome yet, for the monotonous landscape of red rocks stretched from one horizon to the other. Not for the first time, it reminded her of the surface of Mars. Was that particular planet as rich in mineral resources as her own? If it was, the mining company who claimed it would be rich beyond its wildest dreams. There'd be no pesky environmental regulations, for there'd be no environment to ruin and rehabilitate afterwards. There'd be no such thing as minimum wages, either – she could bring in staff from whatever country she pleased, and pay them accordingly. No unions, no safety standards...Mars would make gold mines look insignificant in comparison.
The stewardess' voice startled her out of her Martian dreams: "Could you please stow your table, ma'am? We're about to commence our descent into Broome."
Broome. Mars could wait. First, she had this world to conquer. Then she could start on the next.
EIGHT
A man wearing shorts and knee socks carried her bags to the waiting helicopter. Gaia hadn't seen a grown man wear anything like it since she was a kid, and even then it was rare. He looked like an overgrown schoolboy. She hid her laughter behind her usual public mask, though, and followed him to her ride.
He started asking questions the moment they left the ground, but she refused to respond. Instead, she stared out the window, as red rock gave way to a riot of green that ended in white beach and aquamarine seas. The colours out here were enough to make her eyes water. Gaia donned her sunglasses to block out the unfamiliar glare. Perhaps she shouldn't have had that second glass of champagne on the flight up. Thank goodness she'd refused a third.
Aquamarine deepened to turquoise, dotted with rust-coloured islands frosted in green. None of them looked like paradise. In fact, many of them resembled the photos of Lorikeet Island, though without the buildings. Maybe that meant the vegetation hid rich ore bodies like the Lorikeet one. She wondered who owned the mining lease for them all. With luck, it was Vasse Prospecting. She needed to send a geology team out here to investigate, if no one had already.
"Approaching Romance Island now," the pilot said.
Gaia tapped him on the shoulder. "I want to fly over Lorikeet Island on the way."
He shot her a puzzled glance. "Lorikeet isn't on the way."
"It is on mine. I'm not landing at the resort until I've seen the damage at Lorikeet Island for myself." Gaia drew herself up. "I understood that my assistant booked your services for the length of my stay here. You're at my disposal. And I say we fly to Lorikeet Island."
"Yes, ma'am," he drawled, sketching a sloppy salute. "I can do a flyover for you, but there's nowhere safe to land at the moment. The helipad's underwater right now."
"Fine," she snapped. Was it just her imagination, or was his show of respect more a mockery than the real thing? Perhaps he didn't know who she was. She'd enlighten him later, when she had a better view of his face, so she could enjoy his horrified expression.
After some time with only the sound of the helicopter blades, the pilot broke the silence.
"There's your island up ahead, Ms Vasse. Where your mine used to be."
Gaia stared in stunned disbelief. Sandwiched between steel-grey seas and scudding clouds, the island looked as uninhabited as all the others they'd passed on the way here. But how could that be? She'd seen pictures of houses over half the island...an air strip...a swimming pool...not to mention the sea wall. Now, there was nothing to show for nearly seventy years' work. How could one storm obliterate her family's whole history?
"Fly lower," she instructed.
Without warning, the pilot banked and the island loomed closer to the side window before he straightened out to hover over a red slope that looked like it had just been cleared of vegetation. "This is what's left of the camp, after your airstrip turned mudslide and engulfed it," he said, then pointed out the window. "At low tide, you can still see what remains of the sea wall, but now even that's under water. It was a disaster waiting to happen and the guys who worked here were glad to be evacuated before it did. They flew out yesterday, or the pubs in town would still be full." He stared at the island. "End of an era, they said. The end of Lorikeet Island mine."
"It's not the end. I will never shut down Lorikeet Island. Not as long as I live and breathe," Gaia insisted.
The pilot snorted. "Looks pretty well shut down to me, and your mining crew think the same. You might want to let them know not to start looking for new jobs yet, or start retraining them as divers. There are a few good dive schools in town I can recommend."
It wasn't until she caught his grin that she realised he was joking.
"It's no laughing matter. The mine will reopen. Just watch me."
"Good luck, Ms Vasse. You're going to need it. Have you seen enough, or do you want to hang around here for a bit, planning bigger and better for the future? I don't know about you, but the resort's pub is a whole lot more hospitable for that sort of thing. It even has beer."
Gaia frowned in distaste. Beer was for common men, not her. She preferred a fine white wine, or a bottle of champagne. The resort had better serve more than just beer if they intended to keep her among their clientele.
The Rock Star and the Billionaire Page 2