by Ash Harlow
“Not doing anything for my nerves, Oliver.”
“I don’t know why you’ve got this thing about him. He’s a pushover. Anyway, you can run through legal stuff with him. If you want, I’ll see if he can go to the meeting with you.”
“I think that’s a bit premature. It’s just a meeting to get the feels for each other. I doubt Pearl will be there. I’ll handle this first meeting myself, find out what they’re proposing and we can work out what we can do with it. Not a word to anyone. When we announce this, we want to make a big splash.”
The airfield at Waitapu was typically small, catering predominantly to private aircraft and the one small commercial operation that hops around the peninsula and up to Auckland. Joe had been delayed leaving Wellington where he’d taken a paying group earlier that morning, so I was stuck with Luther in the coffee shop while we waited for his return. Luther insisted on paying for my flat white, muttering something I didn’t quite catch.
I glanced around for a vacant table. There was one free outside and I headed toward it, preferring to be in close quarters with the other clientele, but Luther barked a ‘this way’ at me, and I followed him, reluctantly, to a secluded and empty corner.
I sat down and immediately whipped out my iPad in the hope that looking busy would prevent the need for conversation, but Luther slapped the cover down before I’d managed to get it open beyond an inch. I sighed, pushing it aside.
“Thanks for the coffee,” I said, reaching for the cup. It was way too hot to drink, but I pretended to, anyway.
“You’re welcome.” He smiled, but that didn’t fool me. His lips may have curved, but the reach of his warmth got nowhere near his eyes. He looked at his short black that only half-filled the demitasse cup. That amount of undiluted caffeine in one hit would give him the sort of energy boost he had no need for. The guy was like the proverbial bunny on new batteries, and I worried that his mind worked at a similar speed.
“Tell me about Sydney, Darcy.”
Well, that didn’t take him long to get to the point. I glanced toward the hills behind the airfield willing the chopper to appear. “What would you like to know?” I replied, my best business smile plastered across my face. His eyes were intense glacial blue, sharp enough to lacerate you with a fleeting glance.
“Surprise me. Give me something you left off that carefully crafted CV of yours.”
“Let me see.” I drummed my fingers on the table, praying the annoying tapping would draw his attention from my rapid pulse I swear I could feel beating in my neck. “I used to do a lot of running. Fun runs, Wednesday night pub-to-pub over the Sydney Harbor Bridge. Great views. Have you walked it?”
“Did you spend much time on the harbor, sailing, sipping cocktails on big launches?”
I shook my head. “Not my scene.”
“Not even a Sunday afternoon on a gin palace, watching the yachts race?”
My thoughts darted around as I tried to stay a step ahead of him, to figure out where his questions were leading. “No,” I told him because that was the truth. “I also wasn’t into horse racing or tiddlywinks so you can cross both of those off your list, too. You’re fishing, Luther, so why don’t you come straight out with it?”
He downed his coffee shot in one hit and didn’t even shudder. “Do you know the Alberinis?”
Oliver’s stepfather. How odd he asked that. “Why on earth would I know anyone by that name?”
Luther shrugged as if he no longer cared what I answered. “You know…Sydney.”
“There are a lot of people in Sydney—”
Luther suddenly stood, grabbing his phone and laptop. “Chopper’s coming. We’re on a tight schedule, come on.”
I scrambled for my stuff, jamming it into my bag. Although Luther strode ahead, he waited at the edge of the apron to walk me to the helicopter.
When it was time for us to board, Luther assisted me in a manner Oliver would have approved, but as I raised my foot to the first step, he bent his face close to mine.
“Message for Ant Alberini: If he tries to hurt Oliver, or his business again, I will fucking destroy every one of them—the Alberini family, and you, too, Darcy. Don’t think you’re immune just because you’ve been in his bed. Any trouble for Oliver and you will all pay. That’s my promise.”
The tone of his voice chilled me more than his words. I had no idea what he was talking about, but I was determined to find out. For the moment, though, I’d make him understand that I wasn’t about to wilt because he’d turned up the heat.
I still had one foot on the step so I lifted my other foot to the next step, bringing our eyes level. “Message for you, Luther. Your loyalty to Oliver is admirable, but I’m not the enemy. I’ve never met any member of the Alberini family. Lighten. The Fuck. Up.”
The noise inside the helicopter prevented us from talking throughout the short flight to Auckland, and I spent the trip feigning acute interest in the view, while fuming inside. If Luther had deliberately tried to unnerve me before a meeting where it was essential I presented an image of total professionalism, he’d managed to shoot close to the mark.
Alarmingly close, for the simple reason that Oliver’s and my relationship was fast edging over the line, away from summer-fling status into something more serious. I’m sure he felt that, too. It was time to make a decision about whether this would end with the completion of the contract and my inevitable shift to a larger city, or if I would strive for something more.
Whatever conclusion we reached, though, was no business of Luther’s.
A black Mercedes waited for us when we landed at Mechanics Bay. My meeting was only a few minutes’ drive away in Parnell, and I was pleased our journey together would be short. Luther was heading uptown.
“Good luck with your meeting. Text me when you’re done,” he said as I climbed from the car, as if all that Alberini shit had never come to the table. If I had my way, I’d hire my own car and drive back to Waitapu, rather than share another flight with Luther. I watched as the Mercedes slid into the line of traffic and disappeared around the corner.
As I approached the bank of elevators inside the foyer of roughly hewn volcanic rock and glass, I pushed all thoughts of Luther and his threats aside. I was here to secure a rockstar for our event, and I’d do everything possible to ensure Pearl’s management recommended she support us.
Nineteen
Darcy
The woman who marched through the reception area, hand outstretched, welcoming smile, was of similar height to me. I kind of admired her in seconds because she was one of those women who eschewed the common trend of gorgeous long hair and instead wore hers spiky short, in a color I could only describe as pearl. I envied the ease of her hair routine, but knew I’d never be brave enough to give that style a go.
The business card she gave me just said Ellie and I wondered whether if, like Pearl, Ellie was distinctive enough to have no use for her family name.
Extreme confidence wafted in the air around her as she led me through to a boardroom decorated with memorabilia of stars represented by the agency, and others, way more famous, who’d merely stopped by and offered up a photo opportunity. I tried not to look too hard, but the line-up impressed me.
Pearl was on some remote beach on the West Coast of the South Island shooting a video, but Ellie assured me she was eager to help us out. I ran through the brief I’d prepared, giving her the details of the previous year’s successful event and an idea of the sort of people it would attract.
Ellie seemed satisfied with what I told her, but having never worked with her agency before I couldn’t be sure how much groundwork she’d already done. She asked a number of questions about Oliver which I thought odd at first before I remembered it was his interview that had been the connecting point between her client and the event.
“I played Mr. Sackville’s interview from Sunday night’s Highpoint. I thought it would interest Pearl because of the Waitapu connection, and she was very excited, particularly
in light of the way she feels about drugs. Given her status, and ability to communicate with the generation most vulnerable, she wants to help where she can. Your fundraiser is the type of thing she wants to get on board with.”
“We’re very grateful.”
“You’re lucky the timing is right. Her schedule is booked for the next two years, your event is at a time when she’s in the Waitapu area. If you could get me the names of the other main players, sponsors, that sort of thing, so that I can check to make sure there aren’t any clashes of interest. Then all we have to do is sort out the contract, and we’ll be done.” Ellie stood.
I followed her lead, gathering my notes. “I’ll have the details to you this week.”
“Excellent. Once the contract is signed, we can get together and work on the timing for the announcement.”
Ellie escorted me all the way to the street, saying she was on her way to a meeting downtown. When the glass door slipped open, I reached for my phone intending to message Luther that I was finished and arrange somewhere to be picked up. There were plenty of places to grab a coffee close by, but as I looked up I saw the Mercedes pull up in front of the building. Luther’s meeting must have gone well because he was out of the car almost before it had stopped, opening the door for me.
Well, that’s what I thought he was doing but as I approached I noticed his entire focus was on Ellie as she passed.
Luther’s body was rigid, blocking the opened car door, and he never took his eyes off her until she rounded the corner, oblivious, and out of sight. I went to the other side of the vehicle where the harried driver had also jumped from the car to open the door for me.
Luther was back in the car in a flash, slamming the door. He faced me as we pulled into the traffic, eyes darting around as if he was questioning every part of my face, checking for something. A clue, a lie, I couldn’t tell.
“Who the fuck are you, Darcy?” he hissed.
“Excuse me?” I was taken aback. What the hell had made him so angry?
He continued to stare at me, waiting for an answer. I watched him take a deep breath, but his demeanor didn’t shift when he blew it out.
I had no intention of answering his obnoxious question so we held each other’s stare, connected like dueling mountain goats locking horns. Finally he spoke.
“That woman you were talking to on the street, short blonde hair, tell me her name?” His voice was low and dangerous.
“Her name is Ellie.”
“Ellie who?”
“Just Ellie. Why? Do you want to ask her out? I have her card.” I sounded ridiculous, even to me.
“How long have you known her?”
“Since 10:30 this morning. What is this, Luther?”
“Show me her card.”
“Manners,” I snapped. I felt snarky. He questioned me as though I was hiding something.
“Please…Darcy, show me her card,” he said through gritted teeth.
I pulled it from the side pocket of my bag and passed it to him, watching as he narrowed his eyes and scanned the name and contact details. He flipped it over, checking the blank back and returned it to me without a word.
We rode the rest of the way to the heliport in silence so loud my ears were ringing. Once inside the helicopter I retrieved my earbuds and plugged them into my phone to listen to a podcast, happy to leave Luther stewing in whatever concoction he’d dreamed up.
Back in Waitapu, I still had to share a ride with him, though I offered to phone for a taxi.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m going to Tradewind, anyway,” Luther said, marching to his car without even checking if I was following.
He waited with the engine running, and when I reached the vehicle, he stretched across my seat and pushed the door open for me from inside.
“You clearly don’t like me, Luther. That’s fine. I’m not here to win any popularity contests. But would you mind telling me what the hell just went on in Auckland, because your attitude is, quite frankly, fucking rude.”
“As long as you’ve never met Ellie before, I’m sure everything will be fine.”
I tried a different tack. “Who is Ellie?”
“You tell me,” he said, then cut off any chance of my responding by putting in a call to Oliver.
Gail’s voice came through the car speakers.
“Is Oliver free?” Luther snapped.
“Good afternoon, Luther,” Gail responded smoothly.
“Yes. Where’s Oliver?”
“He’s at the Lodge having lunch with clients. You have a meeting with him at 4:30. Do you wish to change it?”
“No, that’ll have to do.”
“Is there anything else I can help you with? Perhaps I should call Pest Control to see if they can do something about the bug in your ass?”
I snorted, and Luther shot me a death stare.
“My apologies, Gail,” he said, surprising me with his contrite tone.
“Accepted. Goodbye, Luther.” With that, she disconnected. I expect it had something to do with working in a predominantly male environment, but Gail certainly had no problem handling Luther. I’d have to ask her for some pointers.
At Tradewind, I thanked him for the ride and escaped into the building as quickly as possible. I decided I’d wait to see if Oliver mentioned Luther’s reaction about Ellie. If Luther discussed it at the meeting, and it had anything to do with me, Oliver would say something. Perhaps Ellie was someone from Luther’s past.
Twenty
Oliver
“I tell you, Oliver, it was her,” Luther barked.
I hadn’t seen him this wired in a long time, but I was certain he was wrong. “You really think Annabelle would chop off her precious hair and give herself white spikes? You’re obsessed, let it go.”
“You’ve put too much trust in Darcy. You’re thinking with your cock-brain.”
“Don’t be a dick. You’re thinking with your paranoid brain—”
“How long since Annabelle contacted you?”
I sighed. “Three months. You know that. I share every detail with you. You’ve got a fucking file a foot thick about her.”
Throughout our conversation, Luther bounced a squash ball, hard, against the wall of his office. It was driving me nuts and I reached out and intercepted the rebound.
“Ball,” Luther said, holding his hand out.
I flipped it into his waste bin. “Relax. It’s not her. Your last letter saw her off. She’s probably in Florida looking for a rich retiree to fund her wardrobe and handbag habit.”
“Think, Oliver. She’s obsessed with the music industry, and she has the contacts. She’d have aligned herself with Pearl the moment that girl won her first Grammy. I can pursue it—”
“Leave it alone. Now, can we get back to business?”
I’d spent the day with representatives of a prospective new client, a reclusive Swiss gentleman who wanted a mega-yacht built. He also wanted clauses beyond the standard nondisclosure ones, written into the contract, and I’d brought it for Luther to go through before we signed.
“I’ll read through the papers tonight, and stop by the yard tomorrow with them,” he said. “Saturday night we’ve been invited to Organicals. They’ve just been awarded a supply contract with Ron Bowen’s restaurants and they’re putting on a bit of a function. Can you and Darcy come, or are you too busy making love in your fluffy nest?”
“Very funny. We’ll be there. I want to introduce them to Darcy in case they need some publicity work done to capitalize on their success.”
Organicals was one of the businesses we supported through the Anahera Trust, but there was another reason I wanted Darcy to help them out. Waitapu had an increasing number of small business successes and if I could get Darcy interested in doing spin-off work for them, I could keep her in town beyond the length of her contract. Perhaps she’d see there was plenty of work for her in Waitapu, and she wouldn’t be in such a rush to head back to the city.
“Oh, and about Dar
cy,” Luther began, knee bouncing, nervous energy coming off him in bursts.
“Will you please give her a break?”
“She might be pissed with me, over the way I reacted to Ellie.”
“You behaved like an ass, didn’t you?”
He shrugged. “Pretty much. Darcy’s ballsy, though. She didn’t back down.”
“I want you to stop putting her in situations that require standing up for herself. I’m running out of reasons to convince her why you and I are even friends. At this rate, you’re going to need your own PR campaign.”
“Tell you what. Let me pick you two up on Saturday night. I’ll be the sober driver, you guys can party.”
“We can get a taxi.”
“I am making a grand gesture, Oli, to show your girlfriend that I’m not a complete asshole. You can sit together in the back of the car and I’ll even add champagne in an ice bucket with a towel around its neck. Say thank you.” His phone buzzed and he stabbed a button with his finger. “Sami.”
“Your next appointment is here, Luther.”
Luther’s PA was a gentle giant. An affable Samoan guy who handled Luther with ease, and had the additional skill of being able to switch to club bouncer mode if any difficult situations arose. With Luther, that could be a weekly event.
“Five minutes,” he snapped back to Sami, then walked to a small cabinet and pulled out a bottle. “Have a quick scotch with me. I’m going to need it to deal with my next appointment.”
“Who have you pissed off now?”
Luther grimaced. “Virginia Hough. Grant application. You’re part of the Trust, Oli, you should stay for this meeting.”
We run a roster for conducting initial interviews for Trust applicants to sort out those whose applications need more work before they present to the board. Virginia was the only person I’d seen make Luther edgy. And there was a very good reason why.
