“I have a meeting room booked for three at the Hilton.” I wait for the argument that will follow my statement. After three months of negotiations I know Jeremiah Best doesn’t like sensible business surrounds one tiny bit. He doesn’t disappoint.
“A meeting room? That sounds boring as shit, Kent. I thought you were a fun guy?”
“I am a fun guy. But when we’re discussing a contract for thirty million dollars, I tend to channel my more serious side, you know?”
“Let me choose the place.”
“Last time we ended up in a sushi bar. With karaoke.”
Jeremiah laughs, the sound dwindling down to an evil gurgle. “Man, that karaoke host was the most. You can’t tell me that skimpy outfit didn’t inspire you to hammer out our deal.”
“It made me hammer it out quicker than ever. I couldn’t wait to get out of there.” The memory of the host perched on the corner of our tiny table, while she sang badly, and inched up her skirt is something I try to suppress. Even now I feel dirty from the recollection.
Jeremiah has no such qualms. “If we could find a place like that…” His voice trails off and an echo fills the line as he puts me on speaker. “Hang on. Let me do a quick search.” A few seconds pass and I use the time to throw some shirts into my suitcase. The minute this deal is done I’m on a plane to Vanuatu. Two weeks of lying on the beach without a single thought about business is my plan. I blink at the vivid image that floats into my mind. Me, alone on the beach. Again.
I push a beautiful face, with green eyes and long auburn hair out of my mind. She sneaks in a lot. Mostly in tiny morsels of down time, like the few seconds it takes my business associate to find us a seedy place to hold our final meeting before signing our contracts.
I throw a large yellow envelope across the bed, the heavy thump it makes reminding me that we’ve spent a year trying to agree to terms. Wherever Jeremiah chooses for our meeting, I’ll agree to it, if only to get this finalised. Thirty million dollars is a decent return on a company that cost me two thousand dollars when I set it up three years ago.
I’m on top of the world, knowing we’re almost at the finish line. There’s not a single hurdle between me and the money, except for the signature of one of the largest take-over merchants in the world. After tonight I’m done.
“Top Town Girls is always decent. Let’s meet there at six. I’ll book us a table.”
“Girls? Is that what I think it is?”
“If you see hot chicks, with their best assets on display, their eyes begging us to hand them cool green wads of notes, then yes.” He snickers. “It’s dress up week, apparently. Halloween themed, though I’m not sure I’m into zombies. Kind of difficult to get a hard-on with a woman painted green and displaying oozing sores. I prefer my ladies alive.”
I cringe. “I’m surprised you even have that standard.” Jeremiah is a dirty dog and I’ve invested a lot of time perfecting my blank stare when he’s doing disgusting things or making lewd comments. After this deal is done, he and I won’t be hanging out together. Like, ever. I plan to delete his number and block him. I learned that trick from my seventeen-year-old niece last Christmas. “Anyway, couldn’t we hit the club afterward? Get the contract signed and finalised first, you know?”
I plan to come down with a mystery ailment and skip the unsavoury afterparty. I have no desire to ogle naked women. Not when my dreams are filled with images of Ashley. The only woman I’ve seen naked in nearly a year. The only woman I’d risk everything to find.
If Ashley knocked on my door right now, I’d blow off the meeting, this contract and anything else I had to. After months of searching for her, she’d be top of my priorities if I even had the slightest idea where to look for her. A siren catches my attention in the distance as Jeremiah blathers on, justifying his reasons for liking seedy clubs. I tune him out and move toward the window to look down on the city.
Melbourne. The city where we met. Where we laughed and danced the night away, once her shift with the caterer ended. The city where we talked into the early hours, then kissed. Then spent the best night of my life.
At first, I booked the same hotel every time I was here, hoping we’d run into each other. Then, when it became clear I wouldn’t see her again, the memories sucked too much and now I don’t even drive up that street. Last night the driver looked at me like I was nuts when I requested he avoid the two-block radius I pointed to on the map.
It hurts to pass the bar on the corner where we held hands. After three giant cocktails there was no separating us. We shared our dreams. Our passions. Where we wanted to be in five years. Of course, Ashley shared a little more than I did, since I kept all talk of money out of it. If I’d known I’d be obsessing about her ten months later, I’d have shared a lot more. Enough to make sure we didn’t kiss goodbye in the morning with a promise not to tell. Wondering if she liked me for my billionaire status would be preferable to wondering where she is.
If I had my time over, I’d refuse to keep our secret. I’d insist we exchange numbers. I would not have flown to London intent on orchestra tickets.
I’d be with her now.
I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.