He leaned back in his seat and forced himself to relax. He wanted to blame Jacob for his foul mood, but he knew himself too well to lie. Guilt about missing their anniversary dinner gnawed at him. In hindsight, he should’ve just sent Hilary to Houston. There was nothing his executive admin couldn’t do, including babysitting a hysterical Catherine.
Gavin pulled his phone out and saw several calls from a number in Houston he didn’t recognize and a couple of texts from Amandine. He checked the latter first.
First one: Where are you? Should I leave or wait?
Second one: Leaving now.
He winced. She’d waited almost an hour before sending the second one.
He rubbed his face. Amandine had been looking forward to their dinner at La Mer. She’d made all the arrangements as well.
Damn it.
It was late now, but he should get a few dozen roses. That was the least he could do to start making it up to her.
He shook his head and made a small sound of annoyance. It was their anniversary; they should’ve eaten the best meal money could buy and then spent the rest of the evening having incredible sex. He’d really messed this one up, and after vowing to make it special for her.
Damn damn damn.
He knew he could be inattentive and overly focused on work at times. He’d even missed her last birthday. Though amends had been made—a brand new Mercedes convertible coupe with a custom opalescent pink exterior paint job—it had been a poor substitute for not planning anything. Their vacation to the Maldives—another thing he’d done to make up for the birthday—had seemed somehow anticlimactic as well.
So what should he give her to tide things over until he could do something about the monumental disappointment that this day had turned out to be?
He considered a few options and called Hilary, who picked up on the first ring.
“I heard from Amandine you were in Houston. Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, it’s all fine. Listen, I want you to look into getting a small yacht.”
“Leasing or buying?”
“Buying.”
“For you or your wife?”
“For my wife.”
“Quite a gift.” Hilary sounded amused.
“Lots of people in our circle have one, and she’ll enjoy cruising the Pacific coastline.”
“I’m sure she will.”
Hilary’s affirmation soothed his frayed nerves. A yacht would be just the thing. The beautiful ocean views might even inspire Amandine’s artistic side. She loved the impressionists, so she could be like Monet, drawing blue water stuff, except with more style. “If you don’t see anything suitable, see about getting one built. Something elegant and expensive.”
“Will do. How soon do you need it?”
“ASAP.”
Just as he hit “end,” his phone buzzed. He frowned at the screen. It was the Houston number again.
“Gavin Lloyd,” he said curtly.
“Gavin! It’s Simon,” came a booming voice.
Gavin frowned at the over-familiar tone. “Simon…?”
“Simon Caldwell. From The Lloyds Development? I’m the CFO and Jacob’s right hand man.”