Hawaiian Affair (Part 1 of 4) (Hawaiian Affair - 30 days to sign the deal - and stay out of love) (6 page)

‘She’s
not like that,’ Mac said to himself in the mirror, ‘
is
she...
Deckhand.
’

He
practised a smile briefly, but then his smile faded and he chewed his cheek. 
It
had
been a long time. Nothing – and no one - had been tempting
enough. None of the business deals, none of the eligible women he’d met, even
the extreme sports barely filled the gap. And they were getting more and more
extreme. And the gap was getting wider and wider.

 Maybe
this was what he’d been waiting for – maybe
she
was what he’d been
waiting for. A challenge, yes that was it. Different to the others. He
certainly felt different in his body.

Well
let’s make it a one night only, to remember
.

Incognito.
Designer stubble, and tousled hair, untouched by gel nor coiffed by professionals.
Old denims and a plain t-shirt. No expensive watches or tell-tale bespoke stuff
tonight - no cufflinks or statement rings. No lobster, no champagne. He’d have
beer, common-sense food, and no-nonsense company – he couldn’t wait.

Mac
the billionaire was officially off duty.

There
was a message-waiting light flashing when Sadie got back to her hotel room. She
sighed with relief when she saw her missing luggage dutifully delivered in her
room. Taking off her jacket and tight skirt, she went straight through to the
bathroom to dump her sodden bag in the shower tray. The wooziness was starting
to wear off. Rubbing her temples, she glugged a whole bottle of water in one
then pressed a few buttons on the room phone and listened.

Beep
. ‘Mum, Georgia’s taken my jeggings
again, and no, this time I’m not going to be calm. Oh and good luck for
tomorrow.’

Sadie
slumped down on the bed and smiled a mother’s half-smile, the one you give when
your kids drive you mad but you love them anyway. The machine carried on.

Beep
. ‘Mum, nana said I can wear Abi’s
jeggings to the sleepover, ‘cos they were in the washing basket so she can’t
need them, can she. And anyway they make me look like Kate Moss.
And
she’s
only jealous ‘cos my legs are longer than hers ‘cos I take after dad’s side and
she doesn’t. And talking of dad, he’s cancelled yet another visit by the way.
And Nana put the phone down on him - it was well-dramatic! So …em…Anyway hope
you’re having a nice time and good luck with the millionaire guy.’

Beep
. ‘Mum, Georgia may have dad's legs
but she's got your bum, so if she stretches them again, she’s buying me new
ones this time.’

Beep
. ‘Darling, it’s your mother. Go away
Georgia and finish your Greek. Ok German, whatever, it sounds the same to me.
Take no notice of the girls, my love and I’m sorry they found your hotel number
but your mobile wasn’t answering. I said you’re probably preparing for tomorrow
- so if you are, don’t worry about calling us back. I told them mummy needs to
concentrate, so leave her alone tonight. Hang on.
What
Georgia?...Yes,
yes,
mum
not
mummy
… Anyway my lovely, call me tomorrow after you
knock ‘em dead, ok? We’ll survive till then. Well I will, but poor Herb’s
stressing out about the bowls match tonight - Greta is a poor substitute
apparently. Oh well, nice to know I’m missed. Bye.’  Sadie started undressing
as the machine continued to play.

Beep.
‘
Oh, I forgot - this
might please you – it’s your mother again by the way - there’s been a bit in
the Guildford Gazette about you winning that competition – a big write-up like
that hunky journalist promised. Do you remember the nice young blond guy with
the big shoulders, who was so impressed that someone from our little village
had won something so big? I told you he quite liked you. He’s used a big photo
of you accepting your marketing award in Hawaii on page five! You’d think that
PR company would have issued a better one though - you can’t see your face very
well actually, but it’s an impressive poster they gave you, isn’t it – it’ll be
massive when it’s framed eh? Don’t know if it’ll fit in that spot in the shop
where you wanted to put it – we might have to move the mung beans as well as
the alfalfa. Erm, what else. Your hair definitely looks better now it’s blonde.
And… No Georgia I’m not telling her about your father now, the machine’s just
beeped at me and I think it’s going to cut me o...’

Beep.
‘Sorry darling. Damned
machines. Just quickly - something to make you smile, takings were up today –
quite a bit actually. That bit of PR seems to have helped. But I might as well
tell you, I’ve got another thousand to put into the bank account – Tom
Rosebery’s secretary let me know you need it – don’t know why the silly man
can’t talk to me himself. But that’s me done then, my darling – it’s all gone. You’ve
had yours and Helen’s had hers – well, most of it – her Nutritionists’ course
wasn’t anywhere near as much as I’ve given you, but she’d just had her
redundancy money even if she did blow it on her Jimmy Shoes… yes, Georgia,
Jimmy Choos, whatever. Go away I’m talking to your mother - well her machine
anyway - and it’ll cut me off in a minute if I’m not quick. So anyway
sweetheart,’ and here the voice got faster, ‘
at least you don’t have to
worry whilst you’re away and anyway if this deal comes off we won’t have to
worry at all, right?
And Sadie – you know you can do it. Good luck tomorrow
love. Sleep well. Night-night.’
Beeeeeeep.

Sadie
threw herself backwards onto the bed and sighed a massive sigh. What would she
do without her mother? And her sister Helen. She wouldn’t have survived the
last four years of Single Mothers R Us, that’s for sure. Long hours at her
shop, to make it a success, to keep paying the bills – just. And to keep the
girls at the local village school, with its must-have school uniforms and
must-go educational trips, in spite of what her stingy ex-husband had tried to
make her do. And without her mother, she definitely wouldn’t have been able to
drop everything when she got the amazing offer from the people she’d been
approached by at the awards in Hawaii, to help pull off the deal of the
century. With a product that couldn’t be more up her street. It was fate.

And
if there was anything Sadie believed in, it was fate.

Fate
and Destiny.

She
hauled herself off the bed and walked into the bathroom. Flicking on the light,
she got a reality check. In the harsh brightness, staring in the mirror, she
found her mother looking back. Eurgh! Sadie flinched and turned away. Then
looked back and tried pulling her cheeks back towards her ears, giving a slight
lifting effect. Then she gave up, shook her head and picked up her sodden
handbag.

The
whole soggy contents came tumbling out into the shower tray, and she sifted
through separating her precious documents and placing them onto a towel to dry.
Then she held the bag up and smiled, transported back to that moment. She
closed her eyes as her fingers found her cheek, remembering that toe-tingling
kiss. Then she grimaced as she removed a piece of seaweed from her cheek and
sighed.

‘
Why is it always me, indeed,’ she
mused.

Careful
Sadie, keep your feet on the ground.
 
One
night, remember - no Prince Charming, no white charger.
But hey, the way
she was feeling, a jester on a pony would have sufficed. 

Beats
being at home making organic ‘Chilli-con-Quinoa’ for three.

Sadie
realised her heart was pounding. Again

She
began sorting out her newly delivered luggage – covered with stickers and
battered from its journey via Milan and Paris and back again. Thankful to
finally get out of the tight business suit, and into something more comfortable
for the evening ahead. She thanked her lucky stars that both her vital laptop, i-Pad
and back-up USB stick had been safely packed in her suitcase not in her
aqua-bag. Opening the all-important presentation for the hundredth time in the
last two days, she instantly got heart-stoppingly nervous once more, thinking
about tomorrow’s meeting. Especially about the mountainous task she’d been
given.

Thirty
days to find an investor, they’d said, and earn herself a huge bumper commission.
Debts solved. Bank of mum repaid. Ex-husband’s alimony a mere formality. And be
part of a new product that would take the international health food market by
storm.

Yes
it was all happening so fast – perhaps those ‘laws of attraction’ books really
did work, and all that ‘ohmming’ and manifesting and visualisation was beginning
to pay off. Or maybe she was just in the right place at the right time to have
come across the money-men chasing down a deal that was quickly circulating
amongst the exclusive clique of venture capitalists? Putting feelers out
amongst her old research funders had returned a very swiftly interested party.
Maybe he’d been tracking her down when the news got out about Bill Galloway’s
offer. Who knew.

Who
cared?

She
was going off in pursuit of her dream - to help improve the health of the
nation. So what if so far, it was only the health of Guildford? And even that
was a struggle - that part of England might have heard of Manuka honey and Acai
Berry – but they weren’t rushing to buy it yet. Still, she had to start
somewhere.

Sadie
finished checking her presentation and turned off her i-Pad then pulled off the
rest of her clothes. Her belly-pooch sighed in relief and she squidged it. It
had been with her as long as her youngest daughter and was the part of her body
she felt most self-conscious about. Another reason why she’d been happily
devoting her life to work. And so what if it had cost her a social life? It had
all been worth it, hadn’t it? If her last attempt at a relationship was
anything to go by, she wasn’t missing much - Damian had been like having
another big kid in the house. Mind you, his stupid shiny red Ferrari had
cheesed off the girls’ dad so much, it was almost worth it, even for the couple
of months it lasted.

She
smiled to herself at the memory of her last awful session in the bedroom, kinked
her little pinky finger and wiggled it, remembering it was true what they say
about ‘little’ men and flashy cars. Another reason why he didn’t last long.
In
any sense.

Good
job really that he’d gone – the girls could do without yet another bad
male-role-model in their lives. Her mother brought enough of those to visit as
it was, bless her hippy cotton socks.

Sadie
looked at the photo of her girls on the side table by her bed. They were chalk
and cheese – but her finest hour. There was a hand-made good luck card
underneath the photo, and Sadie pulled it out like a talisman. 

‘Go
get ‘em Supermum’
was
from Abi,  and ‘
Bring home the Bacon’
from Georgia - which was funny
considering her youngest had been veggie for a good seven years now, since she
was …oo, five. Sadie shook her head. They were growing up so fast, her two very
own musketeers. She was so lucky to have them, and she was so determined not to
let them down.

Yes
this deal couldn’t have come at a better time.

Sadie
rubbed her feet. She made a dutiful call home, but no one answered so as usual
she left a message.

‘Hi
guys. What an amazing hotel. What an amazing day…’
and what an amazing man
she thought to herself as she finished her message and hung up. She checked her
watch. Plenty of time.

One
hour and three minutes later, freshly scrubbed and glamorously made up, she was
almost ready. Twenty minutes until she was due to meet Hot Boat Guy. Actually,
twenty five – she should tarnish her perfect punctuality record, and be five
minutes late -
don't want to look too keen.
Or God forbid, arrive
before
her date. No, it was good form to arrive just after, wasn’t it?
Were they
still the rules
? Damned if Sadie knew anymore…

She
felt her butterflies kick in with a vengeance.  Having set up a five year
exclusion zone in her personal life it felt strange to be dressing to impress
once more. Time for one last check in the long length mirror.

Hmmm...

Hair
- blonde, bit tousled, fresh ‘up-do’ - good.

Makeup
– glam, sexy, not tarty - good.

Shoes
– ahhh, very good.

Dress
– kind to curves and cut just above the knee, showing off the best bits of her
legs before the thighs went lateral.

Wide
neckline - nice and stretchy – she pulled it down slightly – better off one
shoulder.

No
- off two shoulders.

Oooo,
no -
off one.

She
posed sideways and inhaled, then frowned at her tummy in the mirror. The dress
was empire-line - cut-in just below the bust, enhancing her hourglass shape,
and skimming over the part that let her down. Her tummy always let her down.
But according to that infomercial she’d watched a while ago – ‘
just a phone
call away, there’s an instant, no-surgery solution!’
.  And needing some
retail therapy, and a way of fitting into her old suit, she’d made that phone
call! So - time for the pivotal, shape-changing decision of the night.