by Mandy Baggot
‘You’re rambling, Aaron and now I feel like I need two macchiatos.’
‘It’s time you got back on the horse, isn’t it?’ he blurted out.
‘What?’
‘No offence, but Denise and I aren’t really sure what happened to the last horse.’ He swallowed. ‘Or if there even was one.’
She swallowed down the embarrassment about this topic of conversation as much as she could. She didn’t talk about her love life at work like Aaron did, and he knew that. Plus she was always busy and … she had Hannah.
‘I can’t believe you’re discussing my …’ She lowered her voice to a virtual whisper. ‘Lack of equines with Denise. You know she’s the biggest gossip at Breekers.’
Aaron pointed a finger. ‘She’s also the most caring, slightly man-obsessed sweetie too.’
‘And she makes you cakes.’
He nodded. ‘And she makes me cakes … Hang on, we were talking about you and stallions, not me and a chocolate and walnut.’
Isla smiled. ‘I don’t need a stallion.’
‘We all need a stallion, sweetheart.’
‘Not me,’ Isla answered. ‘Too busy. Perfectly satisfied with my life and certainly not interested in my boss from the States.’
‘But those thighs …’ Aaron sighed. ‘And those eyes …’
‘Five minutes,’ Isla stated. ‘You’d better be quick at making my coffee.’
Twenty
Chase was nervous. This was crazy. All the multi-million dollar deals he had led in New York in a whirlwind six months and he was getting stressed over a boardroom in London that was half the size of his office. Why was that? The guys here were going to be thrilled that Breekers International had decided to choose London as the site of the super-hotel, weren’t they? Although it was going to be a joint project, the London office was going to be very much in charge. It was ground-breaking. A purpose-built village in the heart of the city encompassing everything the discerning traveller could need … This was better. He needed to just stick to the script he’d written. There would be questions but none he wasn’t going to be prepared for. Prior preparation prevents poor performance. He was strong again. He was going to remain strong.
‘O-Y-F,’ he whispered to himself. ‘Own Your Future.’
His cell phone erupted from its position on the table. Maddie’s face flashed on the screen: her sweet smile, her brown hair spilling over her shoulders and a princess crown on her head. He checked his watch. In a couple of minutes he would have the movers and shakers of the London office in here needing his complete attention. Had the receptionist he’d left the kids with until the hired childminder turned up got a problem?
‘Maddie?’ he greeted.
‘No,’ came Brooke’s sharp reply. ‘The other daughter. The not so smiley, cooler one with much better hair.’
‘Brooke, I’m kinda busy right now.’
‘Yeah, I know, like every freakin’ day.’
‘Listen, for real, I need to go.’ He breathed in hard, trying to temper down the moths that were emerging from a multitude of cocoons in his abdomen. ‘I’m just about to get going on a real important meeting and—’
‘The chick you hired to come sit with us isn’t coming.’
Shit. This was all he needed. He took a second to adjust. This was Brooke on Maddie’s phone, not the receptionist who would have taken the call from the agency.
‘Are you for real, Brooke?’ he queried.
‘What?’
‘Is this another one of your pranks or something?’ he asked. ‘Have you got me on webcam for some hilarious jerk-around-with-your-dad sketch you’re gonna upload later?’
‘You don’t believe me?’
Brooke’s tone now was both scalding and hurt. He quickly reminded himself she was vulnerable, both his daughters were, and he needed to tread carefully.
‘I just—’
‘You just what? Thought I’d call you and make something up?’ Now the tone was verging on vicious. ‘Maddie’s still throwing up, by the way. I told her not to but she ate from Santa’s shoulder down to his big ol’ belt buckle.’
Chase closed his eyes. Any second now the door of the room was going to open up and a dozen employees were going to waltz in expecting to be wowed. Could he wow? He used to wow when he had his own business. Back when things in his life were a whole lot less complicated. Back when he had a solid marriage – or so he’d thought. His gaze went to the windows of the room and the flame-coloured hair of Isla. She was standing at her desk, sipping from a cup, its saucer in her other hand. How quintessentially British and somehow … erotic. He swallowed and turned away, refocussing on his conversation with his elder daughter.
‘Is the receptionist okay?’ he asked. ‘To stay with you a minute?’
‘She wears way too much make-up and I don’t think her eyebrows are real.’
He turned back to the door. There were people gathering at the entrance. ‘Brooke, I promise, just sit tight for an hour or so and I’ll treat you to something.’
‘The new iPhone?’
Jeez. How was he still getting this all so wrong after all these years? Offer something and the kids reach for the moon. What did he say? He was in a spot. He swallowed. ‘Remember Christmas is right around the corner.’ He ended the call and slipped the phone into his pocket as the Breekers London team descended.
Twenty-One
‘Thank you everyone for coming today at short notice. I know how extremely busy you are.’
Isla sat back in her chair and got ready to watch Chase in action. In the four minutes it had taken to make macchiato, Aaron had informed her that Chase was something of a phenomenon when it came to motivational speaking. As if the business coach thing wasn’t enough! Dream big! Walk tall! She had always thought they were made-up phrases to give solace to people whose lives were on a downward spiral. Since Hannah’s accident she was more of the ‘roll your sleeves up’, ‘keep calm and carry on’ mindset. What were you ever really in control of apart from that? And she wasn’t sure how Chase’s background and philosophy was going to work with a construction firm.
Chase continued. ‘So, I guess y’all wondering why the CEO of Breekers is spending December here in London.’
There was no murmuring, hardly a breath, even from Robert who was usually a clearing-the-throat kind of man.
‘Well …’ Chase sucked in a long, slow breath. ‘Right now, I would like you to just … close your eyes for a second.’
Oh no. This might work in America where they were used to all things weird and wonderful on every street corner, but the British were different. If he had self-affirmations chanting in mind then this was about to get very uncomfortable. And she wasn’t closing her eyes. She had long since come to the conclusion that anyone who asked you to close your eyes was either going to do something inappropriate or steal your handbag.
‘Come on, guys,’ Chase stated. ‘Work with the crazy Yank here.’
No, she was not shutting her eyes. Isla turned her head to look to Aaron. His eyes were shut tight and he had his arms outstretched, palms up. Robert had one eye closed, the other still not quite committing. How had she not noticed until now that he was wearing the most awful red, green and white striped Christmas tie covered in motifs of candy canes? She looked back to Chase.
‘Don’t make me hypnotise you,’ Chase said in a tone that was somewhere between sinister and playful.
God, she hated hypnotists too. Another load of made-up waffle taking advantage of vulnerable people.
‘Miss Winters,’ Chase addressed her. ‘Your eyes need to be closed right now.’
Isla jerked her head in a one-eighty to find that everyone else around the room had their eyes shut. She didn’t have any choice, but she still thought it was all twaddle, and stunts didn’t go down well with Brits unless it involved fire or dancing dogs. Poor, poor Pudsey.
‘Okay, so, now I want you to imagine … luxury,’ Chase said.
Why had he started w
hispering? Isla felt the need to sit forward slightly. Did he say ‘luxury’? How did you imagine ‘luxury’? Wasn’t that the word Aaron had used about him earlier?
‘Relax … into … it … and … think … about … what … that … word … means … to … you?’
He was talking super-slow now. She knew this trick. She had seen it on some Royal Variety Performance or something Hannah had been glued to because The Vamps were on it. Right now she was supposed to be feeling tricked into becoming tired and relaxed.
‘Does … it … mean … power?’
Ha! That was a man’s perception of luxury if ever there was one. She was still definitely not feeling tired.
‘Does … it … mean … money?’
Ugh. He really was Mr Corporate. And her eyes were not getting gritty. She stifled a yawn.
‘Or … does … it … mean … quality? Quality space … quality time … quality business?’
Actually, a short nap right now wouldn’t go amiss. If Raj was going to keep waking them all up before the milk was delivered.
‘Now …’ Chase whispered. ‘Open your eyes!’
The last command was shouted so loudly the baubles on the Christmas tree in the corner shook and, as Isla snapped to alert, two toy soldiers fell off a branch and hit the carpet.
‘Feels good, yes?’ Chase asked, nodding to his audience.
It didn’t feel good. Everyone was looking at each other as if they were survivors from a monsoon, disorientated with their surroundings, possibly in need of therapy.
‘Remember how it felt to think of luxury and quality?’ Chase inquired.
No. All Isla remembered was being lulled into a false sense of security with her eyes shut and then being yelled at to come-to sooner than she would have liked.
‘Quality time. Quality space. Quality design.’ He pressed the clicker in his hand to display the Breekers logo on the screen in front of them. ‘Ladies and gentleman, it is my pleasure to show you all Breekers’ new vision.’ There was another click and then … ‘Breekers London. A super-hotel and entertainment village right in the heart of the capital.’
Isla felt sick, her eyes hurting as she stared at the screen. It was a mock-up of a giant, black glass and chrome hotel that looked like someone had built an enormous scary building emulating Darth Vader.
‘What’s that?’ It was a second before she realised she had spoken aloud.
‘This is Breekers’ new arm of the business.’ He smiled. Arm? It looked more like a whole body … a giant Sumo wrestler’s body.
‘Hotel complexes,’ Chase added.
She was certain she had fallen into a parallel universe. Any minute now she was going to walk into Wayward Pines and know it was a nightmare. She shook her head, blinked and blinked again but the Darth Vader towering monster remained.
‘Hotel complexes,’ she repeated. There was now murmuring among the troops around the boardroom table. Aaron was looking aghast too but he was a little too far away for her to ascertain whether it was horrified aghast or aghast awe. He did like hotels. But … Breekers was a construction company. Who were they building this mammoth thing for? They definitely needed to know that. Was this a new company or an existing client? Who would build such a grotesque thing? She opened her mouth to speak—
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Chase pre-empted her. ‘Breekers is an international construction firm. We help design and build and then we move on to the next project. Well, this time we’re going to complete the construction … and then we’re going to run the hotel. It’s going to mix what we excel at with what we can become exceptional at.’
They were building it and running it. Breekers were about to try and rival Hilton and Holiday Inn? How had this happened without anyone getting a sniff of it?
‘Breekers London is going to be the first super-hotel and village but it’s something, if successful, we’re hoping to build in every major city in the world.’ Chase began to hand out brochures. ‘There is going to be everything the discerning traveller needs in the village. From state-of-the-art gyms to someone who will walk your dog, shine your shoes, clean your golf clubs, go get your favourite food at any time of the night …’
‘How many rooms?’ The question came from Robert.
‘Three thousand,’ Chase answered.
There was a collective sharp intake of breath.
Chase’s palms were sweating as he finished handing out the brochures. The London office hadn’t reacted quite how he had hoped. It was also nothing like the response he had had in New York. There it had been high fives and back-patting, guys saying it was just what the company needed to boost its revenue and create new energy. Isla’s mouth was hanging open as his slideshow began to move, showing the virtual reality of the planned village. Why could no one see what he could see? Thousands of jobs created. A visionary flagship for the company to be proud of.
‘Is that a circus big top?’ Isla asked.
She had leant her head to the left and was looking at the panoramic shot on the screen.
‘Yes,’ Chase answered. ‘The super-hotel will have its own circus and zoo as well as three nightclubs, two casinos and a shopping mall full of all the brand names you can think of.’
The hubbub was waning. As soon as he’d said the word ‘zoo’ eyes were on him and a chilly feel was invading the room. Had someone opened a window? His eyes went to the snow battering the glass outside. No, definitely no fresh air seeping in. He needed to turn this around and quickly. And that was, theoretically, what he did best now.
‘Guys, I feel a little reticence and resistance right now and I get that, seriously, I do,’ Chase began. ‘This is a brand-new project, it’s a big swerve from what Breekers has traditionally been all about, but it hasn’t been implemented without a lot of thought.’ He kept his voice calm and measured. ‘This has been in the planning stages for …’ He stopped talking. How many months did he have to say to get the British to feel secure? ‘Almost eighteen months.’ It was actually a little over four but they didn’t need to know that. He had found ‘almost’ covered virtually anything.
‘I’m sorry,’ Isla began. ‘But wouldn’t something like this be more at home in the States? Like maybe Las Vegas?’
He looked directly at her then. ‘Miss Winters, have you ever been to Las Vegas?’
He knew the answer already. From the way she had talked about Portobello Market and Notting Hill in general he had her pegged as a home bird who hadn’t ever flown very far from the nest.
‘Yes, of course I have,’ Isla replied. ‘It’s full of places just like this. Loud, brash, giant complexes just as you’ve described.’
Wow. That was a surprise. For a moment he wondered where else in America she’d visited. Had she ever been to New York? What would she think of the area of the city he hung out in? Slick, contemporary eateries where your order was never remembered even if you ate there weekly and had the same dish. You could be anonymous there, and he liked that. It wasn’t a fluffy, cupcake town with extra sprinkles, like Notting Hill. It served a purpose and didn’t ask any questions.
‘I don’t think you really meant “brash”, Isla.’
It was Robert who had spoken now and Chase sensed a shift. Robert had realised who was in charge here, that this had gone way beyond a decision-making process. They were now well on their way to implementation.
‘I think I did,’ Isla retorted.
‘A knee-jerk reaction perhaps?’ Robert was now nodding his head like he was trying to send Isla subliminal messages.
Chase leapt in. ‘Everyone is entitled to their opinion, of course.’ He smiled at Isla. ‘But we’re hoping to get started in a few months’ time.’
Murmuring began again.
‘It’s an exciting time for Breekers and for you here in London. You are going to own the first super-hotel,’ Chase announced.
Isla looked like she was trying to speak above the nudging and chatter, the employees all beginning to flick through the brochur
es he had handed out. She put her hand in the air like she was addressing a teacher.
‘Yes, Miss Winters.’
‘So, where exactly are you planning to put this super-hotel? Because, just in case you aren’t up to speed with things in London, space is limited and I’m not sure there’s anywhere in the city large enough to accommodate that.’
Ah. Location. He didn’t want to spill his desire about that just yet. He had hoped to address it in a few days’ time when he had made contact with Rod Striker. When he had the agreement in principal he was sure he was going to get.
Isla was studying him, waiting for a response and so, it seemed, were a number of others around the table.
Suddenly there was a shrill wail that had him reaching for his ears. He clamped his hands to the side of his head, while the noise continued and everybody in front of him got to their feet and started making for the door.
‘What’s going on?’ he shouted above the din, directing his question towards Isla.
‘It’s the fire alarm,’ she answered. ‘You need to follow me.’
Twenty-Two
‘I need to find my daughters,’ Chase stated as the whole workforce began to filter out of the building heading towards fire exit signs.
‘Where are they?’ Isla asked. ‘I thought someone was taking them out for the afternoon.’
‘There was a change of plan. They were staying in reception with … the woman on reception.’
‘Which one?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You don’t know!’
‘I mean, I do know. She has quite a lot of make-up and … fake eyebrows.’
Isla watched him swallow as he came to the end of the sentence. She got the impression that childcare still wasn’t something he had perfected yet. Just how new was his divorce? She was guessing the children didn’t live with him full-time or, if they did, it was still very much a learning curve.
‘Her name is Denise,’ Isla informed. ‘And she is well versed in the fire evacuation procedures. She will get them out.’
