“Why do you have such a great seat? Get me one, too,” she says, not moving from my chair.
“It’s late, and I have to finish a few emails before I leave. So get the fuck out of my seat.”
“How about … no.” She smiles. “Now, make sure you order me one.”
“If I say I will order you one, will you get out of my seat?”
“If you pinkie promise,” she teases.
“Fucking hell, Rylee, dealing with a five-year-old is easier than dealing with you,” I spit.
She pokes her tongue out and stands. “You better order me one, asshole.”
I stride around my desk and sit before she decides to annoy me further by stealing my chair again. “Why are you here?” I start my computer.
“I came to warn you.”
My head spins in her direction. “Warn me?”
Rylee leans over my desk, so her eyes are at the same level as mine as she stares at me. “If you fuck this up by being an asshole, I will kick you where I know it will hurt the most.”
She straightens and smiles.
So sweet, yet so sour.
Without giving me a backward glance, she saunters off out the door.
The driver pulls up to my apartment building, and I am already out front, suitcase on the ground, as the back door opens and Jacinta steps out, dressed in more casual attire than her regular work outfits.
“Good afternoon, sir. You ready?”
“I am.” I climb in as the driver grabs my suitcase.
When we’re seated and the car finally starts for the airport, we settle into a nice silence.
“Adam and James will be attending, and I want you to wine and dine them when necessary.” Jacinta nods. “They are our biggest clients. So, nothing can go wrong with them.”
“Got it.”
“Also, villas … I will make sure yours is close to mine, so if I need to reach you, you’re close by. And James and Adam will also be near ours.”
“Sounds good,” she says, writing away in her notebook.
“And how are you going to handle this trip? Are you fully organized with your son?”
She pauses writing and places her pen in the notebook and shuts it. When she turns to me, her hazel eyes are warm. “Yes, thank you. He is well looked after by your sister and August. Oliver is familiar with August, and he loves Winter and Rylee, so I am lucky, as I have no family.”
I nod.
Not too much later, the car comes to a stop at the airport. We grab our suitcases and check-in. I purchased both business class tickets, as the flight is just over an hour to the island we are heading to.
“You didn’t have to. I’m more than happy to not fly business.”
“Everyone who’s coming is flying business,” I reply as I step along the jet bridge to the aircraft. She takes a seat next to me, and the flight attendant serves us a glass of champagne.
“I’ve never been on a plane,” she whispers after a few moments of silence, and the plane takes off.
“What?” I say, surprised. “How is that even possible?”
“I’ve never left Australia. And I only left the city when I moved away five years ago, but even then, I drove.”
I look away, raise my eyebrows, shocked at her words.
Looking back, I ask, “Are you scared?” Lifting my glass of champagne, I drink it all in one go.
“No, excited.” And her eyes show it, they are twinkling with nervous energy, but she is animated as well, showing her enthusiasm.
“You should be. This is one of the nicest islands in Australia. It’s absolutely beautiful and not overly crowded.”
After we land, we deplane and board a boat that will take us on the last leg of our trip to the island. The boat also serves more champagne and cheese platers.
“This is so …” her eyes are round with excitement, “… so posh, and probably something I would never have had the opportunity to experience.” She turns to me. “Thank you for letting me come.” Her voice is genuine, and I have to wipe my hands on my pants at her words because, for some reason, they have become sweaty. What’s with that?
“This is a work trip. Just remember that.”
She nods and looks out at the Great Barrier Reef. Her eyes take everything in as we head toward our final destination.
When the boat arrives, I watch her. It’s fascinating to see something through someone else’s eyes. I’ve been here so many times that I’m used to all the glitz, glamor, and opulence.
“Beckham, Jacinta.”
We turn, after we pick up the keys to our villas, to see Adam and James. They each have a cocktail and a smile on their faces.
“Seems you got here safely,” I say.
Adam offers the other cocktail in his hand to Jacinta, who takes the exotic-looking drink eagerly and thanks him.
“I’m afraid what all this drinking could do to me.” She giggles and sips the colorful liquid after she takes a few bites of the cherry on top.