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“Are you sure?” Derek asks over breakfast. French toast and coffee.
I made the mistake of telling him last night before I collapsed into bed. Nigel won’t be home for another few hours so I’ve got Derek and his opinions all to myself.
“What’s the hurry?” he says, frowning. “Give yourself time to reflect. Make a decision when you haven’t got a hangover. Sloane can always come to your next seminar.”
“He’ll have forgotten me by then. Found someone else. Chances like this are ephemeral, DD. This way I haven’t lost anything, not really.”
“Except your self-respect.”
I ignore him. “I’ll just apologise for jerking him around. Tell him I was terminating Guy and included him in the same action. That I’ve thought it over, changed my mind, woman’s prerogative...”
“And then you’ll lie back on his casting couch?”
“Only because it’s a worthwhile cause. My own glory.” In spite of a throbbing head my energy is back.
“You’ll regret it,” Derek says.
“You don’t know that.”
“I know you.”
Then he uses his writer’s gift to describe the possible scene over drinks.
“Sloane the Sleaze, so rich he can wag his little finger and create an earthquake just for kicks. And out-of-her-depth Selkie, so desperate to impress, Sloane can...smell it.”
I remember the charm oozing from Sloane’s email like molten kryptonite and the thought of putting myself at his mercy sends a chill down to the tips of my toes.
“The price is too high,” Derek continues. “And the rewards too uncertain. It could turn out to be the worst experience of Selkie’s life. Worse than the worst. Humiliating, degrading. And then there’s the risk of catching something. Syphilis is on the rise and –”
“It’s OK, DD. Stop. I’ve decided. I won’t sleep with Sloane for any reason. He’s Guy’s man, and I’m finished with Guy. With both of them.”
He can’t quite believe my turnaround. “What about the fucking fame?”
“When you were talking I got it. I don’t need Sloane to make me into somebody. That was Andrew’s trick. It’s my job now. Otherwise I’m just a puppet. I just needed to go almost all the way, to confront the truth.”
He hugs me. When he pulls away his eyes are moist. Nigel might be mysterious and a bit tetchy but he’s softened Derek.
“I’m starving,” I say. “Are you rationing the French toast?”
***
After a lazy morning, it’s almost midday when Derek and I head into the office. I could get used to this routine, especially with the live-in chef and driver. And it’s distracted me from obsessing about the seminar. Only one day to go.
The light on my office machine is blinking. That’s a first. Three calls this morning, all from Oliver Katsuya.
Derek listens in. “That guy’s a control freak. I hope his negative vibes don’t poison the atmosphere tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry. I know his type. He’s only sending his staff. He won’t be there to throw his weight around so he’s double-checking everything.”
“I hope you’re right. His energy coats you like an oil slick.”
Derek goes next door and I log onto emails. There’s one from Guy, written after I left last night. I scan it for expletives and count at least ten. Tut, tut, the man’s broken the golden rule of not sending an email when he’s angry. He should get an entity to mind his bad feelings.
***
Derek found the hotel through a contact and the seminar room is perfect. It spills onto a private terrace where small pools trickle water under palms – ideal for small break-out groups, and no bay view to distract me from my notes.
As the people from Skape arrive, Derek and Nigel attend to the registration list and the name tags. They’ve dressed in matching Aloha shirts with orchids in their buttonholes. I feel honoured. They’re mixing vibrancy with professionalism and leaving me free to prepare myself at the front of the room.
When Derek gives me the nod that all twenty people are seated, the noisier-than-usual crowd – because they all work together – suddenly falls silent. This is why I came to Hawaii, just for this moment – to present my own seminar. As a surge of emotion fills my chest I push it down and begin.
To my surprise I’m relaxed and witty, probably because no-one’s evaluating me. No Guy. No Sloane. Just me and my audience. They love what they hear and the activities and group exercises flow. All my creativity pays off and the program unfolds as I planned. We break for coffee at eleven and then for a buffet at one. It’s clear from the chatter that it’s going as well as I’d hoped.
In the late afternoon I even give them a taste of the seal seminar. I’d decided to ditch it along with Guy but it suddenly pops into my mind with a new name – Being Sleek. It’s so offbeat and fun that it’s perfect to take us through to the end of the day. Pity Lester Sloane didn’t happen by. But I remind myself he’s history.
My audience is moving out, probably to the bar, and I’m packing up when someone strolls over. His hand on my shoulder gets my attention. He’s still wearing his name tag: Alister.
“Let me buy you a drink,” he says.
I stifle a groan. There’s always someone who wants to cosy up to the presenter – usually the most attention-seeking creep – and I’m staying here tonight. Better lose this guy before he becomes a problem. Except he’s kind of cute. Have I met him before? I noticed him several times during the day. Attentive, but quiet. Not taking any notes. Now I look more closely. Mid-forties. Longish well-cut curly hair, fair with a touch of grey. White linen shirt and denim jeans. Muscles that make Roger look like Pipe-cleaner Man. Designer stubble and a large infectious smile full of real teeth. I don’t recognise his name but something rings a bell.
“Thanks,” I say, “but I always decline invitations during the seminar. I know you’ll understand.” Except he saw me hesitate.
“Looks like I’ll just have to cancel that booking on the lanai.” He adds a wink to the smile. “And it’s such a perfect night.”
“Do I know you?” I ask.
He puts out his hand. “Almost. Alister Sloane. Also known as Lester. Long story.”
But he doesn’t get to tell it. Just as I’m about to fly at him for his duplicity or fall into his arms in a swoon, Derek rushes up and rescues me.
“Everyone’s buzzing, Selkie. We don’t even need to go to the bar, we’re high already. That Sleek stuff – didn’t that turn out to be...” He acknowledges Sloane. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“That’s OK, Derek. Alister is just leaving.” I turn back to Sloane. “Nice to meet you.” I wait for him to take the hint.
“Are you buzzing too?” Derek asks me. “Or just exhausted?”
“Both. That’s why I’m going to say my farewells.” I pick up my seminar case, but Sloane hasn’t moved.
“See you tomorrow, Alister,” Derek says. He doesn’t know who he is.
“I hope so. But I’m double-booked.”
“Cancel it. You’d be crazy to miss tomorrow. Selkie’s on fire.”
Normally I’d stop Derek putting pressure on a client, but Sloane’s not a real client and I want to hear what he says.
“You’re right, Derek. I’ll be back.” Then he leans towards me and whispers, “And tomorrow I’ll insist on that drink.”
After he’s moved away, Derek says, “Who’s Mr Suave?”
“He calls himself Alister, DD. Alister Sloane. AKA Lester. And you let him in.”
Derek’s mouth drops open and for once he’s lost for words. He grabs his clipboard and runs his eye down the participant list. “He isn’t here.”
“There were only twenty people, I counted them.”
“Yeah, I remember. One of the Skape group didn’t turn up, then Alister cruised in at the last minute and took his place. Paid cash. I must have been so flustered with the registrations I didn’t write down his name. Alister Sloane. Shit.”
“It’s OK. We didn’t expect him to show up. In fact he wasn’t invited. If that other guy hadn’t been a no-show we would have had odd numbers.”
“And not enough pens. Do you think Sloane arranged for someone to drop out?”
“I hope he’s not that manipulative.”
“He might be. That makes him unpredictable, Selkie. Possibly dangerous.”
And as smooth as chocolate.
But he’s not going to spoil my evening, my sense of my own success. I decline Derek’s invitation to join them and order room service, even breaking my rule about no alcohol during a seminar with a half bottle of champagne. French.
I settle down in front of the view of Mount Tantalus. In the late sunlight the shadows fall into the ravines in sharp creases. Except for Sloane, the day has been perfect and just a glimpse of the Being Sleek seminar turned everyone on.
But what about tomorrow? If he really cancels his other commitment Sloane will be oozing charm all over me and watching my every move. What does he want? With his money and status he’s probably not used to rejection and I’ve told him to bugger off in no uncertain terms. Twice. He’s a man who doesn’t take no for an answer.
Unpredictable, Derek called him. Dangerous. That’s what he said about Roger and he was right.
But I don’t have to deal with Sloane until tomorrow. Tonight is all mine.