by Zee Monodee
“Will we see you at dinner tonight?” he asked in a low drawl.
She nodded again. She wouldn’t miss it for anything.
“Good.” He then inclined his head towards Angélique. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Same here,” her friend said in a breathless voice.
Since when had Ange been given to such theatrics? And why was she drooling on other men when she had her husband to drool on? Patrice was as gorgeous a man as Diya had ever seen, hunky enough to walk down a runway ramp for Armani.
Trent stood at the door, and he gave a small nod. “Goodbye.”
Diya watched him leave, not moving one inch as he departed. With every step he took away from her, the air whisked around her, sucked out of her surroundings to rush into his wake. It became hard for her to breathe, which forced her to take in deep gulps of air.
When the feeling of fighting for breath proved too much to bear, she dropped onto the floor and sat there cross-legged, working to bring her breathing back to normal.
The silence in the room rang heavy. Strange for Ange to be so quiet. Had her friend fallen into shock?
Angélique dropped onto the floor next to her.
“That was Trent Garrison?” Her tone rang with disbelief. “From what you’d said, I thought he was hideous. How could you, Dee? I’ve never seen a more handsome man.”
And her point would be? Sure, Trent was handsome, and women the world over would swoon at the sight of him. So what? Ange had her own bloke to drool over. Couldn’t she set aside the likes of Trent for the poor singles out there?
“What would your husband say if he knew you drooled over other men?”
Angélique waved her hand. “I’m married. Not dead.”
“But still—”
“But still what? I can’t believe you, Dee. What are you waiting for to go after him?”
Wait a minute. Stop, rewind, and hit play again. Ange had sounded serious there.
“Are you out of your mind? What makes you think I should go after him?”
“He’s gorgeous, and he’s single. What more do you want?”
“Maybe for him to show some interest in me.”
Angélique shook her head. “Are you blind or what?”
“Huh?”
The other woman sighed. “Never mind. If you can’t see it, you can’t.”
“Why are you getting so fired up? And remember, I’ve already agreed to go out with Gareth.”
Angélique sprung to her feet. “Always comes back to Gareth. May I remind you you’ve had no contact with him since the day I couldn’t meet you for lunch?”
“Yeah. So?”
“So?” Her grey eyes grew big. “So I wonder if you still have anything in common with the guy. Or if he’s still interested.”
Oh, yes, he is still interested.
“Why are you smiling like that? Do you know something I don’t?”
Ange’s voice ran high, and Diya could hear the impatience and the restlessness behind the words. Her friend would shake her out of her wits to get the information out of her.
“He’s been sending me flowers every week.”
“Jésus, Marie, Joseph! And you never said anything, you cow.” Ange hit her with a cushion.
Diya laughed. “Listen, I told him nothing would happen until we’ve handed this proposal in. So he’s got to wait.”
“The deadline is next Monday.”
“Yeah.” A sudden subdued feeling overcame her, and she grew quiet. “I don’t know, Ange. Gareth has everything I’ve ever wanted in a man. It would be pointless to throw it all away, especially for someone who offers me only friendship.”
Angélique grew sombre, too. “That’s true.”
“Do you think I’m a fool to go for security?” Diya asked.
Her friend reached out and clasped her hand.
“No,” she replied softly. “I think you’re just being realistic.”
***
A strange effervescence reigned in the airline’s offices at the airport, but Trent paid no attention to the heightened sense of excitement. He concluded his meeting with the cabin crew nearly thirty minutes behind schedule and heaved a sigh when everyone left the conference room. Thank God all had gone well. Today marked his second meeting with the crew, and they had tackled all the items on the agenda without a world war blowing up.
One o’clock struck with a small beep on his watch when he walked out of the terminal and headed towards the buildings of the Civil Aviation a few hundred metres away, where the Operations department ran 24/7. He chuckled. Shankar would never forgive him for not paying him a visit.
The soft laugh turned to a grimace when he thought of the ulterior motive Shankar had for getting him to his department. The man always wanted to show him what he’d let go of—the dynamic, never quiet world of Operations, where every minute bore a task, and every task held the fate of hundreds of passengers in its execution.
He had to admit he missed the vibrant atmosphere and its almost-permanent rush of adrenaline. But he had his children to think of. Matthew with his health problems, and Josh with the needs of a baby growing into a little boy.
How he wished he had someone who’d care for them like he did. Who’d give them love and surround them with affection and warmth.
They deserved a mother, and who better than Diya?
The rays of the sun tickled his face with their gentle, autumn warmth, and the light breeze blew cool and soothing across the flat plain. The rustle of palm trees filled his ears, and he sat down on a bench in the shade.
He needed—and wanted—Diya to be a part of their lives. Its foundation, even. Yet, how could he achieve his goal? He’d never been one to woo women off their feet. The last woman he’d tried to win had been Crystal. He must surely have grown rusty in the love department. He’d had the odd affair after her death, but nothing had ever come out of any of them. Women had done the chasing, most of the time.
If only he could catch her attention …
Matthew’s voice rang in his head, when he’d mentioned how much Diya loved the colonial house and how she dreamt of bringing its former glory back.
Well, if that’s what it took to win her notice, he could give it a try.
After reaching for his wallet and his cell phone, he found the card for the realtor and dialled the number, asking to speak to the lady who’d rented him the flat.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Garrison. What can I do for you?”
He heard some anxiety in her voice. She probably thought he would complain about the flat. “Everything is fine, Miss Sen. I’m calling about a house listed with your agency.”
“And which house would it be?” Her tone lightened.
“The colonial on Royal Road in Tamarin.”
“Ah, yes. La Porte du Paradis. This would translate to ‘heaven’s gate’. Are you interested in it?”
Was he, indeed. “Yes. I’d like to know the asking price on the property, please.”
“Let me check.” The ruffle of papers filled the air. “It’s up for thirty-five million rupees.”
“So much?” Blimey.
“It’s a very good deal. The house’s area is over ten thousand square feet, and there are over five acres of gardens.”
“How long has it been for sale?”
She paused at his question. “A few months, now.”
“And no one came forward with an offer?”
She’d once told him he drove a hard bargain. He was sure she must be smiling on the other side of the line, thinking the same thought.
“Okay, I’ll be honest with you. All the bidders wanted to negotiate the price for a lot less, and the owner isn’t prepared to do this.”
“So, it’s take it or leave it, then?”
She chuckled. “Yes.”
Trent reflected on the amount. Definitely a lot, yet worth every cent, if it brought him Diya. He juggled the figure in his mind, converting it into pounds. The house would cost him roughly eight hundred
and seventy grand.
He could afford the sum, and more than once, too, if needs be. There was still another issue, though.
“Is it open to foreign ownership?”
“Yes, but on the condition that the estate cannot be developed for the next seventy-five years. Nor can it be sold to a property developer for another seventy-five.”
So, it could be bought to exist as a house for a family.
“I’m meeting the offer now, Miss Sen.”
She gasped. “But you haven’t even seen the house—”
“I’ve seen all I needed to see. Please arrange for the papers. I want this deal to be done by next week. Good day, Miss Sen.”
He cut the call and pondered over his latest action. He’d never been impulsive, but Diya had showed him how okay it could be to give in to impulse from time to time.
His estate manager wouldn’t agree, but that was another matter, one he’d deal with later. He still had to meet Shankar.
The agitation he’d felt in the other building ran riot in Operations. True to Bedlam. He found his friend, who seemed to be running all over the place.
“Hey, Shan. What’s up? Didn’t think you guys got so frantic in such a small airport.”
Shankar wiped his sweating brow. “Nothing like it, mate. The CEO is flying to Geneva at three, and he’s bound to come poke his nose around here.”
Trent gave a hearty laugh. “Come on, the bloke isn’t so bad.”
“When he’s not breathing down your neck.”
A hush fell over the room, and both men turned towards the door.
“Speaking of the devil ...” Shankar mumbled.
David Marsden, Chief Executive Officer of the airline company and a tall, striking man who commanded any space in which he stood, strode towards them with a big smile on his face.
“Basdeo,” he said as he approached Shankar. “You didn’t imagine I’d come to the airport and not come here, did you?”
“In my dreams, maybe,” Shankar said under his breath.
Trent heard the words and had to stifle the laughter in his throat.
The man reached them and extended his hand first to Shankar, who greeted him, and then to Trent.
“Garrison, right? The Operations Director in England.”
Trent shook the man’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you again, sir.”
“So, Basdeo, how’s it going around here?” Marsden asked.
Shankar opened his mouth to reply, but only a sharp intake of breath rasped through his lips, before he froze and then slumped to the floor.
Panic erupted in the room, and Trent dropped to his knees next to his friend. “Shan, what’s wrong?”
Shankar clutched his chest in reply. A heart attack. Trent recalled the sweat on the other man’s brow when he’d come in. That hadn’t been solely due to the heat and agitation.
“Call an ambulance. He’s having a heart attack,” he said as he loosened Shankar’s tie and collar.
The airport paramedics reached them a few minutes later, and they took over. Trent found himself cast to the side-lines, with Marsden next to him.
The ambulance crew arrived, whisking Shankar off on a stretcher.
Kavita. He had to call her and inform her of her husband’s condition.
Marsden was barking out orders by the time he cut the call. Trent wondered what would happen. It wasn’t every day that the Head of Operations had to be taken to the hospital during his on-duty shift.
David Marsden must’ve read his mind. “I can’t believe this! The second in command is on vacation leave, and no one here is experienced enough to man the department alone.”
Trent frowned. “Can’t you ask him to come back? This is an emergency.”
Marsden shook his head. “Not so simple. He left three days ago for a religious pilgrimage to Saudi Arabia. He won’t be back for the next twenty-seven days.” He paused. “And the junior’s too much of a junior to handle it. He’s already balked away.”
He indicated towards a frail young man who fanned himself with an empty cardboard file.
That didn’t bode well with Trent at all, and a chill snuck up his body. “What will you do?”
The CEO studied him for what seemed like very long seconds. “You’re our only hope.”
He didn’t like it. Not one bit.
“No. Sorry.”
“You’re the only experienced person we have who can do this. Look, this was your job in England, and your experience as a former pilot only counts in your favour.”
He had to get out of this. By any means.
“I can’t afford this. I’ve got no one to leave my children with—”
“We’ll find you someone. You’ll have everything you need.”
“It’s not so simple.”
The words came out less convincingly than he’d wished. His resolve was faltering.
“Please.”
Hushed silence fell over the room. For once, Bedlam grew quiet, hanging on to his word, to the answer he’d give.
What was he to do? He closed his eyes. They were counting on him …
He hoped Diya would understand. At least, until he found someone to take care of the children.
“Okay.”
Chapter Eleven
Hope lifted in Diya’s heart at the sound of hustling footsteps in the hall. She closed her door, and with her back still to the flat opposite hers, made out another, heavier footfall.
Trent.
Her breath hitched in her throat. Since he’d taken the job at the airport, she’d hardly seen him. She’d craved even a glimpse of her handsome neighbour, and had been sorely disappointed when she’d met only the children and Mrs. Nandee, their new housekeeper, every time she’d come and gone from their flat block.
A flutter started in her chest when she found him walking her way with a wide smile on his face. The dimple in his left cheek deepened, making lightness come over her body. In his black denim trousers and dark grey, short-sleeved designer jumper, he resembled a sinful treat, especially with his still damp hair falling over his wide forehead.
She sighed, a soft moan she made sure no one but she would hear.
The sound of little boys huffing brought her back from her fantasies, and both she and Trent threw a glance at Matthew and Josh.
The two boys wore sullen expressions, their heads bowed and their feet dragging upon the marble floor as they trudged behind their father.
“What’s the matter, guys?” she asked, before she glanced at Trent and raised her eyebrows in a silent question.
He shrugged, his broad shoulders sagging in a defeated manner. “I’m needed at work, and Mrs. Nandee has the day off.”
“Tho Daddy’th not taking uth to the beach,” Josh said.
“You promised, Dad,” Matthew said.
Though spoken on a soft note, Diya heard the recrimination in the words.
Trent sighed, and a clutch wove around her heart. How she would like to ease the tension in his clenched jaw and bring colour back to his paled lips. If they were alone, she’d have reached out and caressed his face in a gentle touch, pressed her lips to his ...
She shook out of the sensual spell. As long as he didn’t give her reason to believe the contrary, fantasies about Trent would remain just that. Fantasies. She had to remind her hormones of this tiny but enormous fact.
The unhappiness of those little boys was a concern, though, and she had an idea. “They can stay with me.”
Trent snapped his head up. A flash of relief lit his eyes, before the spark died. “You shouldn’t have to spoil your plans for my sake.”
The cold detachment in his voice startled her, but days away from him had toughened her hide again.
“I’m not doing it for you, but for the children. Can you bear to see such dejection on their features?”
He balled his hands into fists at his sides, probably struggling to contain the emotion she’d unleashed in him. Maybe she’d gone in a bit too heavy.
“L
isten, I didn’t mean to snap. I’m on my way to spend the day at my sister’s place. Her house is on the shore in the north. They’d get to go to the beach, this way.”
“Yeth, Daddy, pleathe. Pleathe thay yeth.” Josh started to jump around them.
Trent glimpsed down at his son. The tenderness on his face nearly melted her heart … before he settled his intense gaze back on her, and the feeling rumbling inside churned to something less sweet altogether.
“Won’t your sister mind?”
“Not in the least.”
The seconds ticked by in the heavy silence that greeted her words, until he nodded.
“Okay. I’ll pick them up in the afternoon.”
“Yay!” Both boys shrieked and lunged for their father, to engulf him in an enormous hug.
Trent joined in their happiness, and Diya knew she’d carry the thrum of his deep laughter with her for the day, and maybe even longer.
***
Trent got a lot done at the airport. The children with Diya, his mind stayed at ease and fully able to concentrate on the tasks at hand.
They’d had runway checks scheduled for today, as well as the usual monitoring of flight plans, pre-flight briefings for all the local and foreign crews, meteorological and aeronautical data to check with the relevant authorities.
The tasks were a never-ending cycle, one which infused him with life and a renewed sense of worth and belonging. If he wasn’t careful, the hectic pace might snatch him completely.
As long as he didn’t have a mother for his kids, he couldn’t afford to lose himself in the job.
His duty done, and yet another potential crisis defused, he strolled into the parking lot and got into his car. Once in the driver’s seat, he paused before starting the engine.
He needed to set the ball rolling in wooing Diya. His first step would be to take her to see the house the next day, the paperwork having been completed this very morning. Provided some other emergency didn’t crop up at the airport.
He could afford to let those considerations go for the moment, though. Diya’s sister had asked him to stay for dinner when he’d called to ask for directions to her house.
