A Proposal Worth Millions

by Sophie Pembroke

  How long had it been since she’d felt a tingle like that? She could say exactly, to the day.

  Not since her husband had died.

  Sadie swallowed, hard, and shuffled back along her stone seat.

  ‘I know I’m not Adem,’ Dylan said, his voice softer now. ‘And you know me, I don’t do long term or commitment, not in my personal life. But if I say I’ll take on a work project, I see it through to the end, whatever happens. You can trust me on that.’

  Sadie nodded, knowing it was true as far as it went. But it wasn’t the whole truth. ‘Which is why you only ever take on short-term projects,’ she pointed out, as gently as she could.

  ‘Yeah. I suppose it is.’ Dylan looked down at his hands, and a coolness spread across Sadie again now he wasn’t staring at her.

  He looked so forlorn that Sadie felt obliged to try and build him up again. After all, he was doing his best, and that had to be worth something. Besides, she needed him.

  ‘Okay,’ she said, ‘we’re in this together, then—if you can convince your stakeholders to invest.’

  He glanced up again, a faint smile on his lips. ‘I’ll be as persuasive as I can with whatever proposal we come up with. So what’s next?’

  ‘I don’t know about you, but I need some coffee.’ She got to her feet, smoothing down the skirt of her sundress and adjusting the scarf. The bright colours looked just right against the pale dress somehow. ‘Proper Turkish coffee.’ She offered him a hand to pull him up.

  ‘Sounds like just the tonic,’ he replied, his fingers closing around hers.

  Sadie hoped so. With the strange way she was feeling today she needed some sort of medicine. Or a slap upside the head.

  * * *

  Sadie chose a small coffee shop overlooking the marina. Dylan sat back and let her order while he took in the view. Still, the aroma of thick, burnt coffee beans took him back through the years—to epic coffee-fests with Adem and Neal at university, when they’d drink buckets of the stuff to get through revision or a particularly tough assignment. Or later, lounging around in Sadie and Adem’s first flat in London, when they had all just been starting out—and burning the candle at both ends working full time and studying for MBAs or accountancy qualifications at night. They’d passed whole weekends just drinking coffee until it had been time to switch to beer.

  ‘So,’ Sadie said, as the waiter disappeared to fetch their coffee, ‘you think I need to change direction with my plans.’

  Yeah, he should have known that conversation wasn’t over. The scarf apology seemed to have worked in the short term, but it didn’t really change anything. Her plans were still stuck in the past.

  ‘I think you need to consider new opportunities as they present themselves.’ That sounded better, right? ‘Adem always knew how to keep an eye out for a new opportunity—and when to jump at it.’

  She pulled a face, her mouth twisting up into a grimace that would have been ugly on anyone else. Apparently his new approach didn’t sound all that much better after all. ‘I suppose you taught him that.’

  Dylan frowned. What, exactly, was that supposed to mean? Stupid to pretend he didn’t know. And she was right—she’d seen him jump at the chance of new work, new women, new places, new everything too often not to be. Dylan Jacobs didn’t stick at anything—except success. And even then he’d found a way to make it fit his own natural tendencies towards the short term.

  His sister Cassie always claimed he was just making sure to run first—before he could be left or hurt. Dylan had never had the heart to tell her that he was more afraid of hurting than being hurt. He might be his father’s son in many ways, but he had a better handle on his own failings. If he couldn’t give forever—and he couldn’t—it was better never to promise more than just for now.

  It had worked so far, anyway.

  Sadie was still waiting for an answer. ‘Maybe. We both learnt a lot from working together.’

  No response. The waiter returned, carrying two tiny cups of thick, black sludge and little sugar pellets to sweeten it. Dylan busied himself stirring some into his coffee while he tried to figure out what he’d said now.

  And then, when it became clear he wasn’t going to work it out alone, he asked, ‘Okay, what did I say this time?’

  Sadie looked up from twirling her spoon anti-clockwise in her coffee and shook her head. ‘Nothing. Really.’ She faked a smile—and Dylan had seen enough of her real ones to be sure this one was fake. ‘But we’re letting our history colour our business discussions again, don’t you think?’

  Were they? Not really, Dylan decided. Which meant that whatever discussion she was having with herself in her head probably was. God, he really wished he knew what she was thinking.

  ‘That’s kind of inevitable, don’t you think?’ he asked. ‘We’ve known each other a long time, after all.’

  ‘I’ve barely seen you in the last five years,’ Sadie pointed out.

  ‘Which only makes it worse. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.’ Instinctively, he reached out to place his hand on hers, where it rested beside her coffee cup. ‘And, Sadie, just because we haven’t seen each other, that doesn’t mean we’re not still friends. That we’re not still connected.’

  She had to feel it too, that connection, tying them together through the years, however far he strayed. Surely she did, otherwise, he was all on his own out on this limb. He might not be able to stay, but it felt like he’d never truly left her either.

  Sadie pulled her hand away, and Dylan’s heart sank an inch or two.

  ‘What would you like to do for dinner tonight?’ she asked, not looking at him. ‘I could book a table for you somewhere in town, if you’d like.’

  For you. Not us. Yeah, that wasn’t going to work for him.

  Clearly the history thing was still bothering her. But as much as she wanted this to be all business, the truth was he wouldn’t be there at all if it wasn’t for their past. So maybe they needed to address that history head-on so they could move forward. On to a new business relationship, even if that was all it could ever be. At least he’d be able to help her.

  He just had to find a way to get her to open up and talk to him about those five years he’d missed. And maybe, just maybe, what had happened before then.

  Unfortunately, Dylan only knew one way to get those kinds of results. It worked with most of his clients’ stumbling blocks—and it had always, always worked with Adem. Like the night he’d shown up pale and troubled, ring box in hand, trying to pluck up the courage to propose to Sadie, even though they had been far too young. Dylan had applied his usual technique, talked it out, and convinced Adem to do it—ignoring any cracking of his own heart as he’d done so.

  The method was foolproof. It had precedent. No reason at all to think it wouldn’t work with Sadie, too.

  He needed to get her drunk.

  Dylan drained his coffee, trying not to wince at the still-bitter taste. ‘Town sounds good. But don’t bother booking anywhere. I think tonight you need to show me the Kuşadasi nightlife.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE SAME WARDROBE, the same clothes—still nothing to wear. Sadie sighed and dropped to sit on her bed and study the contents of her closet from afar. What was she supposed to wear for a night out on the town anyway? She wasn’t sure she’d ever had one in Kuşadasi—since they’d arrived she and Adem had always been too busy with the hotel. Tonight would be the blind leading the blind.

  Except, of course, Dylan was probably the expert at wild nights out in towns and cities across the globe. If she was lucky, maybe she could wait until he inevitably started chatting up some blonde at the bar then slip away home without him even noticing. That would be good. Sort of.

  But even that incredibly depressing plan still required her to get dressed.

  Eventually sh
e settled on her smartest pair of jeans, a black top that had enough drape at the front to look vaguely dressy, and a pair of heels. She’d just have to rely on the make-up and jewellery she’d picked out to do the rest.

  Sadie checked her watch—she still had half an hour before she needed to meet Dylan. The calculation of the time difference between Turkey and England was so automatic these days it was barely seconds before she’d fired up the laptop ready to Skype Finn, glad to see that her parents’ computer was already online.

  Finn knew the sound of the Skype call well enough that Sadie wasn’t surprised when the video picture resolved to show his cheeky face already there, ready to chat. His cheeks were red and his hair a little sweaty around the hairline, as if he’d been doing a lot of racing around. From the shouts and laughs in the background Sadie guessed that his cousins were visiting, too. Good. He had little enough interaction with other children in Turkey; she’d hate to think of him getting lonely over in England, too.

  ‘Hi, Mum!’ Finn waved excitedly across the internet. ‘Wow! You look really pretty tonight.’

  Guilt poured over her in a rush, threatening to wash away her carefully applied eyeliner and lipstick. ‘Thanks, little man,’ she said, the words coming out weak. She shouldn’t be dressing up for Dylan, shouldn’t let her son see her looking pretty for another man, even if he was only a friend. She should be with Finn, sorting their future.

  That’s what I’m doing, part of her brain argued back. She needed Dylan to save the Azure.

  When had it all grown so complicated?

  ‘Are you having fun with Grandma and Granddad?’ she asked. ‘What are you up to?’

  ‘Lots. CJ and Phoebe are here with Auntie Rachel. We’ve been playing in the garden, and next we’re going to build the biggest Lego fort in the world ever!’ Finn’s eyes brightened with excitement, and Sadie felt a wave of love rush over her, the way she always did when she saw him happy. Whatever else seemed crazy in her life at the moment, Finn at least was as wonderful, perfect and precious as always.

  ‘Sounds fun.’ She was just about to ask him something else when the sound of two high-pitched voices yelling Finn’s name cut her off.

  ‘Sorry, Mum. Gotta go. CJ needs me for the fort. Otherwise Phoebe will make it a pink princess castle again.’ Finn’s words came out in a rush as he moved further away from the screen. ‘Bye, Mum!’

  ‘Love you,’ Sadie called after him, but all she could see was the back of his head, disappearing through the door to the other room. Well. Who was she to try and compete with a Lego fort, anyway?

  Before she could end the call her sister Rachel appeared on the screen, settling into the chair Finn had just vacated. ‘Sorry. They’re just having so much fun together. It’s lovely.’

  ‘That’s okay,’ Sadie said with a smile. ‘I’m just glad he’s not missing me.’

  ‘Liar.’ Rachel grinned back. ‘At least part of you wishes he was pining away without you. Go on, admit it.’

  ‘Maybe a very small part.’

  Rachel nodded. ‘You wouldn’t be human otherwise.’ She squinted at the screen, and Sadie tried not to duck away under her sister’s scrutiny. ‘He’s right, though. You do look pretty. What’s going on there worth dolling up for?’

  She groaned inwardly. She should have called before she’d got ready. She couldn’t lie to Rachel—she’d tried often enough over the years, but her sister always saw through it. But how to tell the truth?

  ‘I’ve got a potential investor visiting,’ she said in the end. ‘He wants to see the Kuşadasi nightlife. Does this look okay for bar-hopping? It’s been so long I can’t remember.’

  ‘Stand up and give me a twirl,’ Rachel instructed, and Sadie did as she was told. ‘It’s perfect. So...this potential investor. Is he cute?’

  Sadie sat back down with a bump. Cute wasn’t exactly the word she’d use to describe Dylan. Heartstoppingly gorgeous but totally untouchable? Closer to the mark. Still, she wasn’t saying that to Rachel.

  ‘I suppose so,’ she said, as neutrally as she could.

  ‘And is there...dare I risk to hope it? Is there fizz?’

  Fizz. The word they’d used as teenagers to describe that intangible connection, that feeling that you just had to touch that other person, be close to them, feel their smile on your face or you’d just bubble over and explode. Did Dylan have fizz? Silly question. He’d always had fizz. That was the problem. And when he’d placed that scarf around her neck and his fingers had brushed her skin...

  ‘There is fizz!’ Rachel announced gleefully. ‘Don’t try and deny it. I can tell these things. Psychic sister skills.’

  Sadie shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter if there is or isn’t fizz. The investor...it’s Dylan. You remember Adem’s best man? He’s just here because he wants to help out with the Azure, but he needs to convince his stakeholders we’re a good investment so I’m trying to give him enough plus points to present a great proposal to them.’

  ‘Dylan? Of course I remember Dylan. If I hadn’t been already married at your wedding...’

  ‘Then you could have lined up behind the other bridesmaids for a shot at him.’

  ‘He was more than cute, Sadie,’ Rachel pointed out. As if she hadn’t noticed.

  ‘He’s an old friend.’

  ‘So? There’s fizz.’

  ‘He’s Adem’s old friend,’ Sadie stressed, hoping her sister would just figure it out without her having to spell it out.

  ‘Which means Adem trusted this guy,’ Rachel countered. ‘Which means you can too.’

  ‘With my hotel, maybe. Not with any fizz.’ Even if she was ready to throw herself back into romance with a one-night stand or something, Dylan Jacobs would not be a good choice. And if she was even thinking about anything longer term, he’d be the worst choice in the world. He’d said it himself, he didn’t do commitment. And she couldn’t be in the market for anything less. She had her son to think of.

  But Rachel clearly didn’t get that. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Rachel...’

  Her sister sighed, the sound huffing across the computer speakers. ‘It’s been two years, Sadie. Adem wouldn’t want you sitting out there all alone, you know that. He’d understand.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Sadie allowed. Her husband had been loving, generous and wonderful. He probably would want her to be happy again with someone else. On the other hand... ‘But I’m sure he wouldn’t want me with Dylan Jacobs either.’ He’d want her settled and stable—not things on offer from Dylan, even if he was interested.

  ‘Why on earth not?’

  ‘He’s not that sort of guy, Rach. Besides...’ She trailed off, not wanting to put the thought into words.

  ‘Now we’re getting to it. Tell me.’

  Sadie took a deep breath, and confessed. ‘If I admit to feeling...fizz with Dylan now, isn’t that the same as admitting I felt it when Adem was alive, too?’

  ‘Oh, Sadie.’ Sympathy oozed out of Rachel’s words and expression. ‘Fizz, attraction...it’s just that. We all feel it from time to time, with all sorts of people. It’s what we do with it that counts. Sometimes we ignore it, and sometimes we act on it and see what happens next.’ She paused. ‘You didn’t, right? Act on it with Dylan, I mean, before?’

  ‘No!’ An easy truth. But it didn’t stop the niggling guilt reminding her that she’d thought about it.

  ‘Then don’t beat yourself up about it. Go out with the guy tonight. Relax. Enjoy a little fizz...’

  Sadie groaned. ‘I’m going to pretend you’re talking about prosecco.’

  ‘Ha! Whatever helps you loosen up a bit.’

  ‘I’d better go.’ Sadie checked her watch to be sure. ‘Tell Finn I love him. And that I’ll call tomorrow.’

  ‘Will do,’ Rachel said with a nod. ‘Now, go and have fun.’<
br />
  With a weak smile Sadie clicked the ‘end call’ button. A whole evening watching Dylan flirt with barmaids and blondes. She had a feeling that fun was the last thing she should expect tonight to be. Maybe more some sort of weird torture technique devised purely to drive her insane.

  ‘And yet I’m going anyway,’ she murmured to herself as she gathered up her light jacket and handbag. ‘The things I do for this hotel...’

  * * *

  Tipping his chair back against the wall behind him, Dylan watched Sadie’s slim form as she made her way across the bar from the bathrooms, wondering if she’d notice he’d replenished their drinks in her absence. Operation Drunk Conversation was now officially two drinks in, and he still felt a little uneasy about it. Apparently Bar Street was the place to go and get drunk in Kuşadasi, although with its range of Irish and British bars, as well as some Turkish ones, Dylan wasn’t sure this was necessarily the local colour he’d be trying to sell to the stakeholders. On the other hand, it clearly brought in plenty of tourists—and money. It almost reminded him of their student days.

  She looked younger in jeans and heels, he decided. Almost like she had back in London as a twenty-something. She’d filled out a little since then, he supposed, but only in the best ways. Her slender curves enticed him as she swerved through the crowds to reach him. His head filled with music, the way it had the first time he’d ever met her—the Beatles’ ‘Sexy Sadie’ playing on a loop through his mind.

  ‘You’re still alone. I’m amazed.’ Sadie slipped into her seat and took a sip of her wine without commenting on the level in the glass.

  ‘Why amazed?’

  ‘Well, five minutes always used to be more than enough time for you to find a girl to flirt with when we used to go out.’ There was no bitterness or censure in her voice, more amusement, but Dylan felt the words like paper cuts all the same. Probably because they were true.