Can Am Story

by Oliver Rill

  “Me too. I might have to think about an alternative.”

  “Are you looking forward to seeing Matt?”

  “Yes. Very much. I have missed him so much.”

  “I did have a bit of fun, while I was there.”

  “No, no kidding? Who with?” We were sitting in front of the gate waiting to board. You could already see the plane through the window and the arriving passengers had already left it.

  “A gentleman never tells.”

  “Oh but I’m too nosey for that. Go on, tell me.” Aaron gave me a hard stare. “Oh ok then. I guess I’ll never know and die dumb.”

  “Sorry. I don’t do that.”

  “You’re right not to say, I guess.”

  Playing detective, trying to find out who Aaron had met kept me busy for most of the flight, but he stayed cool as a cucumber and just as silent. I was dying to know if it was someone I knew.

  We both surmised that there were big differences in flying Aegean Airlines and flying Can Am. Service and fit out was better than Easyjet, but still a mile away from Can Am’s standard. We changed again in Berlin, this time at Berlin-Tegel airport and had to make a mad dash right across the city to get to Berlin-Schönefeld airport. We took a cab to the tube and used that to avoid the traffic on the highway. The sky was grey and depressing as usual in Berlin.

  “Mom, I’m really sorry, but I have to get back. I can’t even stay the night here. Please come to L.A.” I begged down the telephone as we sat in the tube.

  She didn’t want to without the others. She wanted to wait until they all came over together in September and could fly together.

  Matt met us at the airport. He drove Aaron home and then we drove the final leg of the journey to my house.

  “Oli, sit down. I have to tell you something.” Matt’s voice was low and serious.

  ”Oh my God. What’s happened?”

  “God. This is so difficult. I … I’ve fallen in love. Her name’s Sarah and … I’m so sorry Oli.” Matt’s voice faltered. Tears blurred my vision. I sat heavily on a chair and felt my world smash into tiny, icy splitters inside me. I played through my mind the time Matt came to the pool and came up to Marie and I and began to flirt with me. How I resisted then gave in after all. I thought of the times I had stared at his rippling muscles and how sexy he was in the mornings before he awoke. How the water dripped from his body as he got out of the pool and laid next to me.

  “You mean it’s over?” My voice sounded broken and my throat ached. I looked at him in agony.

  “Oh God Oli! Please, don’t look at me like that or I’ll cry as well.”

  “You really want to leave me?”

  “I’ve fallen in love, Oli. It’s as simple as that. And I want to be honest with you.”

  “Shit. You’ve really pulled the rug out from under my feet, Matt. I’ve really been looking forward to seeing you this whole time.”

  “I know. What should I do? Should I resign?”

  “No. Please, Matt, don’t do that. Maybe take some time off now, so that I can get my bearings a bit.”

  “Yes Ok. I’ll do anything you want.”

  I wiped the tears from my eyes and tried to think logically and objectively about the consequences, if only to distract myself. “And if I ever see that tart even once in our offices, I’ll throw her out physically, myself!”

  “Oli you have to believe me. I didn’t want it to happen.”

  “Let’s talk about anything outstanding in the morning at the office. Go now and then take four weeks holiday – anywhere but Florida!”

  “Ok. I understand. I’m really sorry. I really didn’t want to hurt you.”

  Once Matt had left, I howled. All the hurt and pain came out. All that evening. And again in the morning. Alone in my bed, where my beautiful Matt had always slept beside me. Alone in the screaming silence of this house, I sat beside the pool a mess of snot and tears, coffee cooling on the table beside me, I shook with misery.

  Aaron came and looked at me with worry in his eyes.

  “Oli, what happened?”

  “Matt …” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

  “What about Matt?”

  “He left me.” My voice shook and tears coursed down my stained cheeks again.

  “Do you want me to mess him up a bit?”

  “Good God, no! I’m just so … It was so … And now …” I couldn’t find the right words to describe what I felt.

  “Hey, I know. It hurts. You can’t let it get to you though. Come on, get dressed and I’ll drive you in to work.”

  “You think I should go into work?”

  “Jump into the pool, swim a couple of lengths and then get dressed! You’ve got a business to lead!” Gavin turned up and Aaron told him to get me something solid for breakfast.

  “Just for your information, Gavin, Matt is no longer staying here. You don’t need to buy in for him any longer.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “We are all sorry, Gavin.” I said bitterly.

  Gavin and Aaron looked at me with empathy and pity in their eyes as I came upstairs from my bedroom, fully dressed.

  “Oli, I know you like wearing black, but is that the right colour for today?” Aaron asked.

  “You’re right. Thanks Aaron. I’ll just change and then we can get off.”

  “It’s a good job that the highway is emptier at 11 then it is at nine thirty.” He called out as I turned back down to the bedroom.

  Matt and I spoke quietly and carefully. He had come into my office and produced a folder for me. There were no jokes, no banter and we both felt the import of what had happened. It only took a half hour to go through it and then I wished him a good holiday as sincerely as I could, but mentally I clenched my teeth.

  “We’ll see you again at the end of July then, Matt.” And I felt the tears force their way into my vision again. I turned quickly away so that he didn’t see them. He laid his hand on my shoulder.

  “Oli, I … I …” he started to speak.

  “It’s ok, Matt. Just go, please.”

  “Okay. I’m going. If you need anything, call me. Day or night. Ok?”

  I swallowed hard and just nodded and heard the door close behind him.

  I was wrapped in loneliness for the next four weeks. Daniel was travelling around the country training new crews, Aristo was still in Sifnos and for the first time in a long time I was actually by myself completely. Instead of going out and distracting myself as Aaron suggested, I drove down to Santa Barbara for the weekend. Just me, my Thunderbird and I.

  I began to hate the Marriott in Santa Barbara. I had always thought that it had very little going for it, but now it also reminded me constantly of my time there with Matt. I searched for a change of accommodation for the coming night. The Harbour View was right on the sea front, modern and comfortable and suited my needs to a tee.

  I called them and struck lucky. They had a room. I thought quickly, I didn’t want to make a fuss at the Marriott, after all, they knew who I was. I hadn’t unpacked so just wheeled my suitcase down to reception giving my apologies and explaining that ‘something had come up’ and insisted, in spite of their weak initial protests, on paying for the nights that were booked. In next to no time, I was installed in the Harbour View, taking deep breaths of sea air through the billowing curtains of my room.

  The hotel had been built in the style of the Spanish and newly renovated, partly with rather adventurous colours such as turquoise and a bright sunflower yellow. My room had a balcony out onto the pacific as well as a window on the inner courtyard from where I could see the pool with sunbeds on one side and tables and chairs on the other, all in a bright clean white. I threw myself down on the bed, looked around the room once more and called the real estate broker.

  “I haven’t managed to find anything exactly fitting your needs yet, but if you have time, we could have a look at three very different properties.”

  Tomorrow? Yes that would be great. I d
idn’t’ have any super-hot lover, who couldn’t keep his hands off me to stop me this time. “At 10;30? I’m staying in the Harbour View.”

  “Is that the sort of style you like?”

  “Yes, it’s ok.” I agreed and thought that I could even spin out my stay a little longer if I had to.

  “Great. Then you’ll enjoy tomorrow!”

  She turned up right on time the next day and I insisted on taking my car.

  “I tried to find out a little bit more about you, but there isn’t a lot on the web other than being the owner of Can American.”

  “That’s always good to know. That’s how I like it. Even that is a bit too much.”

  “We’ll view the first and most expensive property first and then work downwards. The prices are steep in Santa Barbara, but still negotiable, so feel free to say if you think they are too high.”

  The first house felt very much like a hotel. There was a pool, it was on the beach, everything was ultra-modern, light and airy. There was a massive open fire, even the master bedroom had an open fire and balcony. The walk in wardrobe was so big it would never have been completely used in my lifetime and the bathroom next door was bigger than my apartment in Berlin had been. It had offices, three beautiful ensuite guestrooms, a gym, the list went on. In spite of all this, I didn’t get that feeling about it. It felt sterile, but I couldn’t put my finger exactly on what it was missing, everything looked perfect. Clean, well cared for, airy. Just not me.

  “$25,000,000, four acres of land fronting directly onto the seafront and a total of ten rooms, plus several bathrooms and a large kitchen. What about it? Are you interested?”

  “Maybe if I was Michael Jackson. It’s beautiful, you are right, but it’s not really what I am looking for. Thanks for showing me around. Let’s look at the next one on the list.”

  “Ok. So this one is comparatively less spacious. There’s only half the living space, but it makes up for it in the amount of surrounding land belonging to the property – just under thirteen acres, to be precise. There are five bedrooms and a pool house, stables and an orchard in front. There’s a price tag of $17 million on this one.” It really was enormous. You drove through a whole orchard of fruit up to a house that looked as though it had at one time been two bungalows with a Rapunzel-like tower between them. Everything was painted in a greyish beige, which gave it an atmosphere that was both comfortable and elegant mezzanine floors, steps between the rooms and inglenooks gave an impression of mystery and surprise. The kitchen, with its island and breakfast bar had enough working spaces to accommodate several cooks. The large, almost square pool had a section with a whirlpool built to the side, but you couldn’t wander down to the beach from there as the cliff in between was so high and steep.

  It came closer to my idea of what I wanted than the last one. The view was fantastic from that height, but what would I do with an orchard and stables?

  “This is definitely more like it, but we aren’t quite there yet.”

  “I’m looking forward to hear your views on the next property.”

  I was surprised and charmed!

  “What are your first impressions?”

  “I love it!”

  “Yes. It is one of those love it or hate it places, I think. Let’s go inside.”

  It was a Spanish villa. Something I would never had dreamt of, but it was enchanting. The first thing you noticed when you arrived were the steps on the outside of the building leading up beside the little tower to the balcony overlooking the yard.

  Inside it was partly covered with terracotta tiles giving you an impression of Spanish heritage, but not overdoing it. Wooden benches added to the Iberian atmosphere. Again, just enough to give a flavour. The beautiful and large rooms were separated from the pool and Jacuzzi by two or three steps, giving an impression of multiple levels. To the left of the pool, was a covered terrace to the right an open one and a sauna. A sweeping staircase leading up to the bedrooms, to the accompaniment of Spanish tiles and a cast iron banister. One guest room had a gallery, another was comfortably furnished with its own balcony. There was reading and study room. My bathroom had a massive shower surrounded by glass and as a gimmick, an old roll-top bathtub, which was of course too small. The beach was easily reachable through a small path that lead down to the sands. I was stunned by it. Everything that you needed could be found in the house. If it had had a supermarket, you would never have to leave it again.

  “Ok give me the details.”

  “We have a large four bedroomed house with guest house, three reception rooms, two and a half acres of land with a price tag of 12 million.”

  “Do you think we could get away with ten?”

  “We might well do.”

  “Let me sleep on it, but I think we might have found it.”

  “Oh great! You know what. I’m going to let the owner know and start drafting the contract. You’ll only need to sign it.”

  “I think, I …” I was at a loss for words from excitement. Anticipation clawed at my belly and adrenaline coursed through my veins. I have visions of swimming in the pool and drying off in the sun in summer and sitting embraced by an armchair next to a roaring fire, holding a glass of red wine watching the ocean swell as storms battered the windows in winter. It would feel so warm and cosy.

  “I think I’ll take it. But I’m not going to be able to take possession until the beginning of next year. Is that a problem?”

  “Oh yeah, I think …”

  “Let me talk to the owners. I’m sure we’ll find a solution.”

  I was beside myself. It wasn’t that I had forgotten that Matt had gone and wouldn’t see my beautiful house, but I could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. There would be ‘life after Matt’.

  I was no longer feeling of being on the floor of a bottomless dark well, as I was this morning. Suddenly I had something to look forward to. Actually if truth be known, I had an awful lot to look forward to. Although I had played with the idea of going to a quasi-gay bar in Santa Barbara, I decided in the end not to. Not because of the risk that the press would get hold of a photo, but rather because unless there was something interesting to distract me, my desperate mind would go back to ruminating about how different things were now my perfect Adonis, Matt, was no longer by my side.

  I emailed the agent again, asking for the floor plan, sent for something to eat and a bottle of wine from room service and settled down to mentally put the house to rights. It was just small details that I would change. For example, the TV above the fireplace was much too high, it would need to be lowered, but otherwise the house had everything you needed, and with the guest house, I would have a total of seven bedrooms.

  I wondered if I could get away with asking for a sub from my exorbitant bonus, to buy the house immediately if the owner didn’t agree to waiting. After all, he was going to have to wait for nearly half a year.

  At some point I ended up in bed, not having thoroughly thought through anything I had wanted to, as my mind was constantly interrupted with intrusive flashes of my life with Matt that buzzed around and around in my head.

  “I want to talk to you, right now!” Melvin appeared unexpectedly in the doorway of my office.

  “Right now? Why? What has happened?” I hoped that Melvin wasn’t about to resign.

  “It’s about JB Homes and our banks.” Melvin plumpsed down into one of the chairs in front of my desk and slung one leg over the other.

  “Ok, what about them?”

  “From 2018, JB Homes is going to withdraw from our business and we’re going to have to change the collateral in the bank. It’s just a case of juggling the numbers and nothing more than a paper shuffle.”

  “But?”

  “But, the banks don’t want just the low rates that we’ve been paying them. They want a stake in the business. They are real sharks!”

  “Ok, just suppose they get 1.5 million in interest a year for an aircraft that they’ve financed, that’s about right isn�
�t it?”

  “Yeah, roughly that.”

  “And if they had a stake, what would they take then?”

  “Around eight percent of the investment.”

  “They really are shit faces! And they’d be able to sell their interest to a third party, right?”

  “They would.”

  “So Chambers could … No! No way! I am not falling for that one. Tell them to go sell their little mortgages to small men. We’ll go elsewhere and find an honest bank that doesn’t want to be a loan shark. There are a ton of them in Europe, easy to find. And with our turnover, they’ll be happy to help us – and at a much lower rate!”

  “Good. Then I will let them know our decision and hope you are right. What did you need from me?”

  “Oh yes, what did I want? Probably not the best timing. A private matter. I wanted to take an early advance of my gigantic bonus. I found a really beautiful house in Santa Barbara.”

  “And you want an advance for that? In June?” Melvin levelled his eyes at me from under his brows.

  “You said that we’ll manage with 350 million, didn’t you?”

  “But we’ve still got a half year in front of us. Anything could happen!”

  “Hmm.”

  “We could manage a quarter, maybe?”

  “That’s not enough.”

  “Jeez! What’re you buying? Graceland?”

  “The house costs 12.”

  “We can’t do that. I mean you could do it if you wanted. You’re the boss, but really, taking money out for private use at this stage in the game is not a good idea. The banks won’t like it, however awesome this house in Santa Barbara is.”

  “Ok I get it. Of course. I’ll think of something else. And you should too, for the banks I mean. They are not getting any stake hold!”

  Aaron noticed my troubled face as he picked me up from the office.

  “You look like you need a drink. Maybe even two.”

  “That sounds like a good idea, Aaron, but bars are not really the thing at the moment.”