They stood and clapped. Sandy took her seat and enjoyed an exquisite meal. After an hour or so of socializing, she began to offer her goodbyes. Save the Children was the winner of the evening. Those in attendance were far more generous than anyone had anticipated. More money was raised that evening than at any other single event the organization had hosted.
Sandy made her way to the airport where her jet was fueled, flight plan filed, and her pilots prepared for takeoff.
Chapter 6
David parked his jeep out in front of Renée’s condo. He arrived fifteen minutes early. Being raised on a farm, punctuality became an important trait, taught to him at an early age. The tardiness of some who felt it acceptable to arrive a few minutes later than they were expected, didn’t sit well with him. His staff was aware of it. Meetings at the ranch or the stables, started on time. The exception to the rule was Serge. His superior mentality made arriving late okay, if not a necessity in his own mind, reinforcing his importance. David found it quite comical.
Since inviting Renée to join him on the flight, he was experiencing an unanticipated reaction to the travel plans. They shared a close, but professional relationship. Nothing was ever alluded to by either that would lead the other to think otherwise. But at this instant, he was having a flashback of being on a first date. It threw him a little off-kilter although it was a pleasant feeling. The two of them spent numerous hours together with no lack of conversation. Sitting there he found himself wondering what they would talk about for the next five or six hours. When on common ground, the chatter flowed with ease. He hoped the interaction on the trip would come naturally, but the thought of it was a touch unnerving.
Renée was well aware that David would arrive early, so she was packed ready to roll an hour before the scheduled time. She was dressed in tight black lululemon yoga pants, a cadet blue cool racerback tank top covered by a nice grey asana jacket. Not the wardrobe normally worn, but a comfortable choice for a flight.
The weekend was going to elevate her career to a level few trainers achieve in a lifetime. The odds favored her horse winning his race. Being in her twenties and to be given this much responsibility surpassed her wildest dreams. Yet here she was, the top dog, calling the shots for a stakes race with millions of dollars on the line. Nothing was going to throw her off her game this weekend.
She rolled her luggage into the hallway, and then turned taking a moment to scan the room, reassuring herself nothing was being forgotten. Everything was good, all accounted for. Now in the hall with the door almost closed she abruptly stopped, opened it and jarred her suitcase against it to stop it from closing. Renée re-entered and made her way to the bathroom. She stood in front of the mirror, fluffed her hair, and then touched her face with the fingertips of both hands examining her makeup. Picked up a perfume bottle and sprayed a touch on each wrist. Now she was ready. She locked the door and pushed the down button.
David was waiting in the lobby when the elevator doors opened. They both smiled at each other. He was pleasantly surprised with how her attire accentuated her figure. Seldom had he seen her dressed in anything other than denim. There was a short hello from both of them. The doorman held the foyer doors open. David threw her luggage into the back seat of the Jeep.
“You two have a great day,” the doorman said.
“Thank you, Daniel, enjoy your weekend,” Renée replied.
The doorman smiled and nodded his head at her. David opened and held the passenger door. Not trying to impress anyone. It was second nature to him, taught how to act like a gentleman by his father and grandfather. He’d hold a door open, adjust the chair of a lady as she sat, and walk on the street side of the sidewalk. Corny but appreciated. Sandy often commented, “You Canadians are crazy polite.”
With Renée now seated, David caught a scent of her fragrance. It smelled good. He would have to be mindful his thoughts weren’t noticeable on the outside. They were embarking on business trip, nothing more. Savor the present situation in silence and keep it professional, he repeated to himself.
The conversation was sparse during the drive to the airport, a little personal, a little business. For the most part they remained silent. The flight would provide ample time to address any subject they wished to discuss.
After clearing security, they arrived at the gate as a boarding announcement was being made. First class, first on.
“Would you like the window or aisle,” he asked Renée.
“Either works for me David.”
He made a motion with his hand guiding her to the window seat.
“This is comfortable,” Renée said referring to the first class seating. “I’ve never flown first class before. To be honest I always thought it was a bit of overindulgence.” She nestled into the luxurious seat, reserved for those who could afford it, “although it’s possible I could become accustomed to it,” she said with a smile. They both laughed.
All were on board. The plane taxied to the runway and to David’s delight immediately took off, no delays. Once the aircraft reached its determined altitude the flight attendants began serving the passengers. For the most part, first class fliers were pampered. The beverages arrived quickly. Dinner wasn’t what one might expect from a five star restaurant, but it was good.
“David, could you brief me on what the FBI determined started the fire,” Renée asked in a concerning way.
David explained the materials were used to ignite the fire. He went on to say that it was arson and at this point no one was quite sure as to why someone would want to harm the animals.
“This is a big money game we play in. Sandy’s father is wealthy beyond belief. You don’t get to where he is without making enemies. The FBI knows this technology was developed in Europe. There are only a handful of people who build the igniters. We just have to put our trust in the authorities. I’m sure it will be solved in a timely matter. But young lady, now we have to concentrate on the upcoming race. The show must go on,” he ended the conversation about the fire.
“Your right, it’s a sad world we live in when two beautiful horses are sacrificed because of someone’s vendetta,” she added.
They had been in the air for a couple of hours now. For a large portion of it David and Renée had been nonchalantly coming in contact with one another. First their arms touching while resting on the armrest, then their legs would touch ever so slightly. At one point during the flight they took a break from talking to read. Renée curled her legs onto the seat, and rested her head on a pillow, leaning against the window. After a couple of chapters she dozed off. In her sleep her legs unintentionally stretched out and David could feel them wiggled in behind his backside. When she awoke she seemed unconcerned or embarrassed about the position of her feet. She did remove them as she straightened up. They were both at ease with this closeness.
The plane landed and they made their way to a waiting car that drove them directly to the hotel. By traveling with only carry-on luggage, the transfer from the airport to the hotel lobby was quick and effortless. David had reserved two Jr. Suites a couple of rooms apart on the same floor. Once the front desk clerk handed over their swipe cards, they made their way to the elevator. What a treat he thought. If he was with his wife he’d be hiking it up the stairs. She would tease him to no end if he refused to join her climb to the proper floor. It did have its benefits as a source of exercise. But today the elevator was his choice of transport. They reached the floor, walked down the hall to Renée’s room.
“How about we have some dinner,” David asked.
“Sure, I’d love that.”
“Good, I know this little café not too far from here. They serve up a mean Steak Frites,” David said a little too enthusiastically.
“C’est merveilleux,” she replied in French having difficulty containing her excitement. This was proving to be a delightful trip.
“Ok, say, in an hour? I’ll meet you in the lobby.”
At that she opened her door and disappeared inside. Dav
id found his room, settled in, unpacked, and took a quick shower. Once done, he parked himself on the couch wearing only a white towel. With his legs resting on the coffee table, he retrieved his mobile phone. There were no messages from his wife, so he dialed her number, not really expecting an answer. When in Europe each minute of her day was accounted for. More often than not, she didn’t answer. He would send a short text. Sandy would normally get back to him within an hour or two. Rarely did a day go by without contact of some form. It was those odd occasions, when she didn’t get in touch with him for a couple of days that concerned him. It was as if she vanished off the grid. He knew her trips included more than met the eye which he attributed to Jacob somehow having a hand in it. She was probably on a mission to smooth over some secretive deal, or obtain an insight to this or that for the benefit her father’s business. Trust of an absent partner was essential in the success of this kind of relationship. He hoped to discover more about her travels someday. But for now, he was satisfied with her explanations. Sandy answered on the first ring.
“Wattsy, I thought you’d never call,” she joked.
“How’s your trip going? By the way where are you?”
“I’m at the Palace. King Ahmed insisted I stay here. Have you arrived in L.A.?”
“We got in a couple of hours ago.”
“We who?”
“Renée flew out with me. Serge decided to stay behind to oversee our local entries. He feels she is ready for the big show.”
“Why wouldn’t she have accompanied Charlotte’s Choice? Isn’t that what trainers do?”
“I had an extra ticket—yours.”
“I’m stuck here, and she gets to be with the one person in the world I wish I were with. It doesn’t seem fair. But good for her, pass on my congratulations. She worked hard for this day.”
“I will. When are you coming home?”
“The wedding is tomorrow. The King asked if I could stay on for a day. There is some business he would like to discuss with me, and prior to the wedding he will be devoted to entertaining the guests who have been arriving hourly. From what I’ve seen so far, they include every single Middle East country. Most represented by their leader. It’s actually quite an extravagant affair.”
“Okay,” he took a breath, “Sandy, promise me that when you get home we find time to hang out. We need to find some, our time. I love you so much, kid. I want you here.”
“Wattsy, I love you to death, you know that. I want nothing more than for us to be together. It’s just been an arduous few months. After this trip I’m going clear my schedule. You have my word on it. I will be all yours, to do what you wish with me,” she promised.
“Oh I can think of a few things. But seriously, yes, I would appreciate that. Listen, I know it’s early in the morning there so I will let you go. We’re going to grab some dinner, then make it an early night. I want to be at the track first thing in the morning.”
“We?” she inquired again in a jokingly tone.
“Renée and I,” he replied.
“Make sure it’s just dinner.”
“What’s this, do I detect a tad of jealousy from the great Mrs. McGinnis-Watson. As a matter of fact based on our last conversation with regards to Renée, I should be the jealous one.”
“If I recall correctly, I just made mention that I would sleep with her if I was still back in college and if I were not faithfully married to a wonderful ex-jock,” she playfully answered.
“Great, my wife has the hots for my trainer. That’s all I need,” he said.
Sandy enjoyed this bantering back and forth with her husband. Her life was trying at the best of times, so it was refreshing to find a few light moments.
“Goodnight, David, you should run along to your dinner. And David—”
“What?”
“Keep your eyes in their sockets,” referring to David’s quick peeks at the backside of Renée’s jeans. Sandy was trained to observe everything.
“Goodnight Sandy, talk to you soon. Take care. Love you,” he signed off.
***
“Love you too,” she said as they both ended the call.
It was still early in the morning when Sandy hung up. Too early for roaming around the palace, so she decided to relax in the luxury room the King so graciously provided. She laid back onto the king size bed with a beautiful lace canopy supported by four gold plated pillars.
A number of years ago she spent some time at the Palace. One summer she led a training program with the King’s son Fyad. The King, his son, and Sandy became close friends. Over the years they stayed in contact. She closed her eyes, drifting back in time.
At the age of seven Sandy lost her mother to cancer. Old enough to understand that for the remainder of her childhood, there would be no brother, no sister, just her and her father. There would be no mother on the sidelines of her soccer games or other sports or dance competitions. At graduation she would only see a single pair of proud, teary eyes. One set of shoulders to cry on. It made her angry. Her father picked up on this immediately, which was the main reason he enrolled her in a martial arts class. He felt this discipline would provide an outlet for her frustration. Teach her self-defense, along with contributing to her physical and mental well being. She took to it like a duck to water, quickly progressing through the skill levels. By the age of eleven, she attained the highest level taught locally. It was suggested by her instructor that she spend the summer in China training with a Grand Master. Only a select few were extended an invitation to the teachings of such caliber. Throughout her teenage years she spent her vacations studying with the world’s best. China one year, Japan another year, the Middle East in addition to other counties. Unbeknownst to her, her future was beginning to take shape. Lying there with her eyes closed she reflected on those years.
It was the summer after graduating from Harvard that she reunited with the King’s son. They were the same age. Both had earned the distinction of being considered Grand Masters of Martial Arts, known as two of the best. Although they lived in different worlds culturally, and were separated by a vast distance, their similar upbringings forged an irrefutable bond. They were only children of wealthy parents, who took their art form seriously.
That summer they decided to give back and offer two four week sessions for a free introduction course of martial arts to underprivileged children. The first would be in Saudi Arabia, the remainder in the USA. One evening, after a day of lessons, the King’s son informed Sandy that at the end of the month he had accepted an invitation into a secretive combat-orientated exercise, which was scheduled to last one full year. He would both join in the training, and teach advanced martial arts during the exercise. The program was reserved for thirty elite soldiers, inclusive of Special Forces from the USA, along with its allies. It would be the cream of the crop, the best of the best. Each individual invited would train the others in their own specialty.
Fayd was approached and asked to recruit Sandy into the group. He was instructed not to take no for an answer. Her area of expertise in hand-to-hand combat would be superior to all, including Fyad. She was given an outline of the commission. It would be self contained, with one outside contact needed to arrange transportation and such. Only a handful of high-ranking government officials knew of its existence, enough to secure financing for the undertaking. It was going to be an excruciating undertaking, far beyond what any of them experienced in the past. The architect of the project looked for one outcome only. Those who survived would become the most dangerous soldiers in the world, machines. They would be deployed by their respective countries, in the most delicate situations. The estimate was less than half would be capable of seeing it through to the end.
Her mind was made up to join five seconds into briefing. This was her, this was her life. Nothing else mattered. To take her obsession to the next level was the only thing that made sense.
Fayd already predicted her response and had discussed her inclusion in the program with his fath
er, who in return, spoke to her father, prepping him on the dangers they were about to embark on. Sandy’s only concern was securing the exceedingly high security clearance required to partake. Fyad assured her that wasn’t going to be an issue.
As she lay there, a smile came to her face, recalling her father’s reaction when she informed him the next morning that she would be gone for a year. It was as if he had been expecting something like this from her. His wasn’t surprised that her passion had progressed to this level. Knowing how determined his daughter was he didn’t try to change her mind. He listened, analyzed the pros and cons. He was aware of the risks involved in elite warfare training, and knew once a person entered into that brotherhood, there was little chance of resuming a normal lifestyle. If what Sandy accomplished in her short life could be considered a normal lifestyle in the first place. One promise he made to her at an early age, was that he would support any path she elected to follow. No exceptions. Saying little he listened. Respecting her decision, she received his blessing. The calls had already been placed the day before. The security clearance was fast tracked.
One month later Fayd and Sandy traveled to a secret location in Virginia. They would not be coming home for twelve months. Training began in the USA, relocated to the tropical rain forest in Malaysia, then counter-terrorism exercises in Israel. Many other countries would present their own distinct challenges before the conclusion of the year. The ones accepted into the program were a select number of men from the USA’s Navy Seals, Green Berets, the British SAS and the Shayetet 13 from Israel and Fayd. Sandy, the lone female, was the only non-military personnel invited to partake. Never had a female been afforded an opportunity to train at this level. Sandy recalled the first time she put a Navy Seal flat on his butt during a man to women drill. She smirked. Good memories.
There was a knock at the door. Lying on the bed in a bra and a pair of Calvin Klein undies, she grabbed for a shirt and a pair of track pants.
Love Lonely Page 7