Companion Required

by Brian Lancaster

  Kennedy had laughed, and within a matter of seconds felt comfortable. Something about the man had made him feel they could talk freely. For someone in his late fifties, he gave off a sense of alertness while still being friendly and welcoming—probably a long-cultivated, charismatic charm. Dressed in a stylish light-grey suit and pale-blue open-necked shirt, Milletto had a full head of almost white hair, and his smiling brown eyes behind fashionable silver-framed glasses gave him the air of a scholar.

  “I know this is a little unorthodox,’“ Kennedy had said, following him along a corridor towards a large conference room, ‘“but I wanted us to talk off the record, face to face, so to speak. We’ve only ever conversed by telephone or on video conference. We should have done this long before now, but when you kept changing our meeting—”

  “The hell I did. Your end kept changing the goddamn…oh,” Milletto had said, his smile slipping. “Sloan. You know, we both need to keep a careful eye on that SOB.”

  Kennedy had sighed then. They were definitely on the same page. Instead of leading Kennedy to the conference room, Milletto had turned right into another corridor and entered his huge corner office, the semi-circular window arrangement overlooking the whole of downtown Los Angeles. After his smiling personal assistant had brought Kennedy an ‘emergency’ double espresso, and been put on alert for more, the two of them had opened up. From the word go, Milletto had been an inspiration—funny, insightful, and more importantly, someone Kennedy felt he could trust to do business with.

  Of course Milletto knew the score with his future son-in-law, had seen through his plans. And during their six-hour meeting—stopping only for lunch in a trendy restaurant on the top floor of the building—Kennedy had listened to Milletto’s counterproposal.

  Instead of them running with the acquisition—which in his experience had been like one bigger country invading a smaller one, and rarely without casualties—that instead they join forces, turn the transaction into a merger of two powerhouse companies in the security sector, a meeting of minds and talents.

  Once Milletto—“call me Giorgio”—had meticulously explained his reasoning, everything had made total sense to Kennedy. Giorgio and his team had even considered a new name, Grey Steel Global. Having expertise in all areas of surveillance, both domestic and corporate markets, on both continents, they would become unstoppable. Once they had opened up in different markets, they could float on both the FTSE and the NASDAQ, and would become one of the top players in the global market. Milletto’s eyes had flashed with a mixture of excitement and pride at the idea.

  Still struggling with jetlag, Kennedy had sat back and tried to absorb the overwhelming information. Throughout the meeting, he’d kept tapping into his natural business wariness, had tried to look for a catch, to look beyond the words and see if Milletto—Giorgio—might be trying to play him. But everything Giorgio said made complete sense. At some point, he’d need to speak to Tim.

  “Why didn’t you suggest a merger in the first place, why offer to sell the business?”

  Giorgio had sat back in his plush leather chair, grinned sadly and stared out of the window.

  “That is exactly the question I’d have asked you, if you’d suggested the same thing. And I think it’s only fair you have all the information, if you’re going to agree to a partnership.”

  Giorgio had kept his gaze out to the skyline and shaken his head very slightly.

  “A year ago, I had a stroke. Collapsed right here in this office, thank the Lord, because they got to me quickly. Touch and go for a while, but my guys took me to the hospital in record time. We managed to keep it out of the press—didn’t want to worry clients—but let me tell you, for me it was a wake-up call. Afterwards, doctors told me to take it easy, hand over the reins of the business. You probably know that anything I make from this business goes to my daughter. I wanted to make sure she’d be well taken care of.”

  Right then, Giorgio had swung his chair to face Kennedy.

  “But you know what else I learned this past year? You can’t live your life scared, however much time you have. Sure, I had to learn to let a few things go, but give up? No freaking way. When your boys first put the offer on the table, I thought that’d be a perfect solution. But you know, the more I thought about it, the more I changed my mind. And that’s when my wife came up with the idea.

  “Unlike my future son-in-law, I’ve only been married once, and trust me, when you eventually get to meet her, you’ll understand why. Kelly-Anne Marie. She’s ten years younger, and the only person who ever stood up to me, while standing up for me, if you know what I mean? She’s the one told me to go find out more about you and maybe go speak to you privately. See if you might at the very least want someone to stay on as a sleeping partner—not that I’d have done much sleeping. But I could certainly have kept an eye on your managers for you—if you know what I mean? And then it just hit me about three weeks ago. Why don’t we go into business together?”

  Kennedy had been listening but his jet-lag-addled brain had struggled to take everything on board.

  “Look, I ain’t going to lie to you, Kennedy. This is going to be a whole helluva lot of work for both of us if we’re going to pull it off. Mergers don’t come cheap, and many of them crash and burn. But I think we’ve got a shot. We’re complementary—and I don’t mean that in the free-of-charge way. Together our businesses are halves of something that could be something great. And, I guess, the clincher for me is I feel as though you’re someone I could work alongside. How about you?”

  Kennedy had talked about his own idea, about bringing him his shares in Securiton so that maybe he’d consider calling off the acquisition. Milletto’s suggestion made far more sense, and the fact that they both had significant shares in Securiton made the deal even sweeter. There would be a lot of things to hammer out, lawyers talking to one another across the pond, probably months of negotiating, but in essence at least, Kennedy approved of the idea wholeheartedly.

  “So, should we still hold the meeting in London?” he’d asked.

  “Hell, yes,” Milletto had said, folding his arms and raising his eyebrows. “Don’t go spoiling my fun, now. I want to be there to see faces when we announce the counterproposal. I know you broke your holiday to be here today, but can you be on the call? It’d be better coming from the two of us united.”

  “I agree,” Kennedy had said. He’d easily find a reliable business centre in Bali and teleconference into the meeting. Hell, he wouldn’t miss it for the world. “And one way or another, I’ll be there.”

  * * * *

  After the four-plus hour flight from Hong Kong to Bali, they had another four-hour drive from the airport in the south to Kennedy’s seafront villa in a small town in the north near a place called Pulaki. During the journey, Kennedy told them all as much as he could, about how Giorgio Milletto had known he was sitting in the Cold Steel reception and that not only had they instantly connected, but they had enjoyed a frank exchange of views and ideas about how to progress their businesses. Kennedy mentioned nothing about the merger. Kieran listened quietly, but Kennedy could tell he suspected there was more to the visit, things Kennedy wasn’t telling them.

  As the sun began to sink over the headland, they arrived at Kennedy’s villa. Their driver had called ahead and they were met by villa staff carrying ice-cold glasses of lemon tea. During the year, Kennedy let out the four-bedroom lodgings to friends or close business associates, but he ensured the villa staff maintained the premises, grounds and swimming pool all year round. With the rooms housed on two levels—the ground and the first floor—the villa also had a shaded car parking space beneath the whole structure, which was where the driver parked their car.

  On the ground level, they stepped through the front entrance into the spacious living room, then through to the pool and the stunning view overlooking the Bali sea. Shimmering and inviting, the pool ran the length of the villa, surrounded on three sides by the dining room, the kitchen, the l
ounge, and one of the bedrooms. Three more bedrooms sat on the first floor, overlooking the pool and the sea. Glass sliding doors on each of the internal facing rooms ensured that guests had access to the views. Two features he had always loved were the two-person shaded cabana to one side of the pool, and the outdoor terrace on the first floor, where his guests enjoyed breakfast.

  Over the next four days, they relaxed together, although during all but one of those days, Kennedy remained behind when the three went out on excursions. Tim had vetted Giorgio’s proposal and given Kennedy the golden thumb—Tim’s way of saying that everything came up legitimate. At night, Kennedy and Kieran continued to have sex, Kennedy trying his damnedest to make sure Kieran enjoyed himself. Even so, a couple of times, Kieran asked him if something was wrong. Kennedy sensed a storm brewing.

  At midnight on the fourth day, while Kieran slept, Kennedy managed to web conference into the meeting with London and Los Angeles. Giorgio handled the call brilliantly, up-talked the merger then handed over to Kennedy. Although nothing had been signed, they made a point of telling everyone—including Giorgio’s staff—that the acquisition was firmly off the table. Kennedy knew he would have to deal with a flood of emails from his staff, but decided to leave them until the morning.

  On the morning of the fifth day, Kennedy spotted Kieran talking to Steph on one of the sunbeds beside the swimming pool. After a second, she pointed up to where Kennedy sat at the breakfast table with his laptop open. Kieran looked amazing in shiny scarlet Speedos, a sight Kennedy used to relish but now one that tugged at his heart, as though he had no right to look. Without hesitation, Kieran came towards Kennedy, bounding up two stairs at a time until he stood the other side of the table. Even with his shades on, Kennedy could tell he meant business.

  “Kennedy, we need to talk.”

  Kennedy had been wondering when this conversation would happen. And apparently the time had come. Kieran would want know what was going to happen when they returned, maybe even ask if they could stay close. Ollie had done the same, and everyone knew what a disaster that had been. Not wanting to spoil the rest of the holiday, Kennedy would need to let Kieran down gently, so he sat back in his chair. He had been rehearsing the speech in his head, to make sure he got the words right, to minimise the pain. But before he had a chance to say anything, Kieran spoke first.

  “Shut the laptop down and give me ten minutes,” said Kieran decisively. “So I can say what I need to say.”

  Kennedy breathed out a sigh and did as requested.

  “I’ve paid the money I promised into your bank account, by the way,” said Kennedy. “With a little extra.”

  “I—thank you. But that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

  “Go ahead, then,” said Kennedy, his hands clasped together on top of the laptop.

  “We go home in three days.”

  Kennedy remained silent, but nodded.

  “I just—I don’t want a dark cloud hanging over us as the deadline looms. So let’s clear the air right now and that way we can enjoy the next few days the way we’ve both—at least I hope you have too—enjoyed these past few weeks. Are we agreed?”

  Okay, thought Kennedy. That’s not quite what I’d been expecting.

  “Agreed,” he replied, cautiously.

  “Because I want us to have fun during the few days we have left, and now your business meeting is out of the way. Let’s go to the beach or sunbathe together, or swim in the sea or in that amazing pool. Let’s have sex in the afternoon, if you want to. And I know you do, the way you’re trying so hard not to stare at my cock right now.”

  Despite himself, Kennedy chuckled and looked away, but when he brought his gaze back, Kieran’s face had turned serious again.

  “Look, Kennedy, I know things between us probably haven’t turned out the way you’d expected, and certainly not how we’d both planned. Believe me, that much I do understand. But a deal’s a deal. And when we get on that plane in three days’ time, when we set foot back in England and you head off on your way, it ends there. I knew that much coming into this arrangement. I’m not going to gush about how great a time I’ve had—the things I’ve seen and done, the new and incredible experiences—because you already know that, you’ve been with me the whole way. But I am true to my word. So I give you my word of honour—and you certainly know enough about me by now to know that counts for something—that I will not attempt to contact you again, as stated in our agreement, once we’re back home. Are we on the same page?”

  “We are.”

  And yet, for the first time in as long as he could remember, Kennedy had no idea which page he was on.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Kieran

  Bali had seen some difficult times since the start of the new millennium. But not even terrorist threats or natural disasters could keep the tourists away. Kieran had to agree with Laurie’s description of the small province of Indonesia, that Bali was an island paradise. Lush green paddy fields with a backdrop of verdant mountains contrasted with perfect beaches of white sands and azure sea, lined by tall coconut trees. Hindu pagodas and temples constructed from local stone, now moss-covered and age-worn, blended naturally into the horizon when driving from one location to another, as though they had been grown organically rather than built.

  Since their talk, Kieran had given himself over to Bali’s magical spell. However much he hadn’t felt some of them, his words had worked their charm. Kennedy’s guard had dropped and he’d relaxed back into the holiday. They sunbathed in the nearby sandy cove on the morning of their penultimate day, two short flights of steps down from the villa. They’d lain together, the four of them, savouring the cloudless day in companionable silence, until Steph and Laurie cried off because of the intense midday heat.

  “Fancy a dip?” asked Kieran, leaning up on one elbow.

  Kennedy’s body glistened deliciously with coconut sun oil, applied earlier by Kieran. That morning Kennedy was wearing only a pair of stylish shades and tight black-and-gold briefs. At Kieran’s words, he turned his head and yawned, stretching out his arms.

  “Mmmm. Could do.”

  “Skinny dip?”

  Kennedy sat up, then brought his knees to his hairy chest and raised his sunglasses.

  “I think you’ll find nude bathing’s illegal in Bali.”

  “Who’s going to know? Come on, old man,” said Kieran, dropping his scarlet Speedos and standing naked. “Live dangerously for once in your life.”

  “You think I don’t live dangerously?”

  “Yep,” said Kieran, running into the sea. “Last one in’s a sissy.”

  “Too late for that.” Kennedy laughed, stepping out of his briefs and tossing his shades onto the towel.

  Within seconds he joined Kieran in the sea, both immersed past waist-height, splashing each other and laughing like school kids. Kieran really enjoyed the rare moments when Kennedy let his guard down, even though he knew that later on things would return to his usual formality. Taking advantage of the situation, Kieran did what he’d been wanting to do all morning and wrapped his arms around Kennedy’s neck and his legs around Kennedy’s waist. Without asking permission or even checking Kennedy’s reaction, he brought their mouths together in a salty kiss, feeling Kennedy’s arms tighten around him. For a full five minutes, they remained that way, with Kennedy twirling them slowly around in a circle in the cool waters.

  “See,” said Kieran, pulling his mouth away. “Nobody’s going to know whether we’re wearing cozzies or not.”

  “But they might, if we start having sex in the sea.”

  “However much the thought of that makes me hard, maybe we should save it for the bedroom.”

  “I can live with that,” said Kennedy, grinning, pushing away from Kieran and swimming a few strokes on his back. “Let’s just enjoy the freedom of being in the ocean.”

  “For one more day, at least.”

  Kieran hadn’t meant the remark to spoil the moment, but Kennedy’
s smile dissolved. Kieran immediately dived beneath the water and came up next to Kennedy.

  “Hey, old man, can I give you a suggestion?” asked Kieran, shaking the water from his hair. “It’s a kind of take-it-or-leave-it piece of advice.”

  “Go on,” said Kennedy.

  “I understand why you couldn’t tell us everything about your meeting in LA, except that you’re no longer going for an acquisition. But reading between the lines, it sounds as though you might be considering a merger?”

  “No comment.”

  Kieran laughed and twisted onto his back to match Kennedy.

  “Fair enough. But just in case you are, during my master’s we looked at contemporary businesses, and one of the specialist areas I studied in depth is successful mergers, identifying the key elements that helped to make them work—particularly where companies are geographically challenged or where there are clear organizational cultural differences. One key differentiator concerns pre-merger integration. Kind of getting to know how each other’s business works. One simple but successful way of doing that is to consider swapping one or two key talents for a period of time—pre- and post-merger—for them to gain insights into how the new company operates, to explain how their own company does the same, and then figure out the best way for the two to work together going forward. Of course, you’d also have to consider the needs of the individual. Do you maybe have any key members of staff who might have family connections in LA?”

  The slowly spreading smile transforming Kennedy’s face was better than the stunning landscape.

  “You’re dangerous, Kieran West.”

  “You have no idea.”

  Shortly afterwards, Kennedy insisted they dry off and put on their swimwear before heading up to the villa for showers. Often, Kieran had been the one to instigate sex between them, but this time Kennedy took control with a sense of urgency. Kieran enjoyed these rare moments, allowed Kennedy take his fill of him. Lying next to each other, both panting, Kieran smiled up at the slowly turning ceiling fan of teak and metal.