The Dare Collection November 2018. Christy McKellen
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‘It’s not my assistant’s job to sell the yacht to me. It’s yours. Shouldn’t you be bending over backwards to please me? Or are you inflexible?’
‘I’m flexible in every way that counts. I was a junior athletics gymnast before I went to university and I have three medals to show for it, two of which are gold.’
‘And how long ago was that?’ he mused. ‘Thirty? Forty years? You’ve obviously grown rusty.’
My fingers tightened around the handset as I counted to ten. I’d let a personal detail slip. My number-one rule of business was to keep my emotions out of it. That included not letting clients rile me.
‘I can fly in the special smoked salmon you requested so it’s ready for you each morning. Same goes for the caviar from Iceland and the tuna from Norway. Any other culinary requests will be catered for, you have my word. And...I can stretch the crew to twenty-seven if you really need it. It would involve taking more members of staff from Monaco but with some clever balancing, I could make it work.’
‘My client is bringing a large entourage, possibly his extended family. So might I. That’s why we’re hiring a twenty-cabin vessel. Three weeks is a long time on a boat. We’ll all require various forms of entertainment. A crew of twenty-seven at full capacity would be a stretch. On top of that, I believe you told my assistant the captain is the only one who knows the vessel inside and out. I’ll need an experienced member of crew who is not the captain—since I believe he’ll be otherwise occupied actually piloting the boat—to answer any questions my client will have about the yacht. This is your golden opportunity to turn a lease into a sale. I may be in the market for the right yacht. My client has two and is looking for a third. Does that register at all?’
‘Of course,’ I said through gritted teeth. ‘Every crew member is given a tutorial on the boat.’
‘Really? And how long was this tutorial?’
I felt heat rise up my neck. ‘Sixty minutes.’
He didn’t respond for a long time. ‘For a five-hundred-foot, five-deck yacht?’ Disbelief rang through his voice. ‘Do you want this commission, Miss Branson?’
I bit the inside of my cheek until my eyes watered. With every atom of my being I wanted to say no. I’d sunk all my capital into this vessel in the hope of making a once-in-a-lifetime sale that would be an answer to all my dreams. But the rental Gideon Mortimer was dangling in front of me, with the possibility of an extension, would also bring in a considerable injection of cash, enough for me to expand my business.
To do that, I needed men like Gideon Mortimer. ‘I want your business.’
‘Then find a way for us to both get what we want.’
I took a breath. ‘Fine. You’ll hear from me by five p.m. today.’
‘Wonderful. And please bear in mind that if you don’t call me back, I’ll remember it for a very long time.’ The line went dead.
This time I resisted the urge to slam my phone. After replacing the handset, I went to the kitchenette attached to the open-plan office, boiled the kettle and dropped a teabag into my favourite mug.
I stirred slowly while counting to a hundred. Then I threw the whole thing down the drain. Normally, I loved my job, loved turning a dream into reality for the average Joe like my grandfather, who’d made my childhood a little bearable by passing his love of sailing to me.
He’d take me out on the water when my mother’s mood swings veered into bitterness and depression, or when my father made one of his transient, illicit visits to the woman who’d never managed to free herself from a man unworthy of her love.
The freedom of being out on the open sea had helped me to forget the man who’d never been interested in fatherhood.
It’d been a natural transition to turn that hobby into a business with Adam, the man I’d thought I’d marry.
Until he’d nearly derailed my life with his betrayal.
But there was a reason Grandma Agnes had claimed my middle name was stubborn. Letting treachery get the better part of me hadn’t been an option.
Maybe in the beginning, with my name over the door and gleaming on my stationery, I’d hoped Adam would crawl back and beg forgiveness for the shitty move he’d pulled.
Or maybe I’d wanted to rub my success in the faces of those who found it so easy to snatch my happiness from me. I wanted to show them that I could exist in their world, hell, even rub shoulders with them.
Whatever. Freud would have a field day with me.
But those sensations had passed quickly and left a burning need to succeed for me and me alone.
But not the memory of Adam’s betrayal.
I rinsed the cup and walked over to the large corkboard where I’d pinned the itinerary for the next three months. I had the same schedule on my laptop but it pleased me to see my hard work laid out in pretty stationery.
May to August was the height of boating season. Most of my full-time staff were all on board leased vessels.
Monaco was especially busy. But a quick calculation confirmed what I’d told Gideon Mortimer. I could spare one member of staff, two at a stretch, which left Andrea, my second in command, and our part-time secretary. At seven and a half months pregnant and seasick even when on land, Andrea was going nowhere.
As if conjured by my thoughts, she waddled in a second later and stopped in surprise when she saw me. ‘Oh, I thought you’d have left for the day.’
‘No, I’ve been on the phone with Mr Mortimer.’
She rolled her eyes and fanned herself with a paper napkin. ‘Oh, jeez, is he still going on about the extra crew?’
Among other things. ‘Yep.’
‘And?’ She shuffled over and dropped heavily into the nearest chair.
‘I’m going to see if any of the other leasing companies can spare any crew members.’
Andrea grimaced. ‘Not to be a pessimist but you don’t have a hope in hell of that happening. They were super pissed when Giannopolous Boats chose you to join in the investment consortium on this yacht deal. They won’t be in a hurry to help you out.’
Just what I’d feared. I forced a shrug. ‘Then come five p.m. I’ll be calling Mortimer back to tell him to look elsewhere.’
Andrea rubbed one hand over her belly and continued to fan herself with the other. I was about to offer to crank up the AC when she looked up. ‘What’s the most important thing he’s asking for that we haven’t been able to provide him, apart from the unnecessary crew?’
‘From the sounds of it, he’s looking to buy a boat, and this client he’s expecting to wow the pants off of is a boat fanatic. He wants someone on hand 24/7 to spout statistics