Take a Chance on Me (3 page)

And walking.

And a bit more with the walking. Until …

Ooops.

Until she realised she was going the wrong way and had to turn around and go right back again.

‘That wasn't the way I came in, was it?' she said, sheepishly, when she reached him.

‘No,' he said, trying hard not to laugh. ‘It's down there.'

‘You could have told me,' she replied.

‘I was enjoying the view.'

‘Are you always this cheesy?' she asked, and now it was Sadie's turn to suppress a giggle.

‘Only with my own kind,' he said, catching her off guard, and she inhaled a sharp breath.
My own kind … Uh-oh!
Even more reason to get the heck out of here.

‘I have to go. I really do. Honestly. I've got a big meeting tomorrow,' Sadie said, looking into eyes that just didn't believe her. Then, as if on cue, her phone started ringing again in her bag. ‘Excuse me a sec,' she said, and turned away to dig out her mobile and answer the call.

Mac was by now well and truly enchanted. And bemused. He wandered back up the gangplank, picked up the dirty rag again, and resumed cleaning a piece of shiny metal, watching Sadie totter out of earshot to take the call. A flicker of amusement ran across his face as he watched her juggling the bag and the phone.
What is it with women and huge handbags?

He thought about her accent and tried to place it – he was good with voices. And hers being closer to home made it easier than most. South London, perhaps – Surrey, probably. No, she definitely wasn't a yacht person, but now he was intrigued – if she wasn't a harbour inspector, what was she taking notes for? Was she on a recce? Perhaps she was film crew. Neither did she look like any business person he'd ever met, not in those heels.

Mac pondered, and pulled up a deckchair to sit himself down, ran his fingers through his hair and swigged from his bottle of water. On the distant hill something glinted, and caught his eye, but he couldn't make out what it was. Instead, the view close-by was much more interesting. He sat watching this strange woman, wondering what on earth she was getting so animated about.

‘But, Mr Rosebery, believe me, salvation is truly just around the corner,' Sadie was saying under her breath, several yards away. ‘No, of course I'm not winding you up … Oh, you saw the article too, did you? … No, it was indeed all-expenses paid. Didn't cost me a penny – it was my prize … Well, actually, Hawaii
was
hard work, really it was. Very hot and very pressurised, especially once they offered me this deal … Well, you see that guy presenting me with the award, on the left in the picture? He's Bill Galloway and he produces this water called Frish in Maui. And they want me to help with their international marketing and … oh, of course, yes I'll hold.'

This is all I need.
If only her bank manager wasn't one of her mother's ex's. Then maybe he'd stop acting like her guardian and leave her alone. She wasn't that far over the overdraft surely? And why would they bounce a payment for £40 and charge you £30 for doing so? None of it made sense. She began working out a calculation on her fingers and as she did so, she glanced up. Hot Boat Guy raised his bottle towards her as if to say ‘cheers'.
Weirdo.

She smiled and raised a hand to acknowledge him, and her bag slipped off her shoulder an inch or two. She turned her back to him and leaned on a railing. Funnily enough, now she knew he was sitting watching her, she found it most comfortable to lean down on the railing and stick her bottom out ever so slightly – just for balance, of course.

‘Oh, hi,' she continued her phone call. ‘Yes, of course … I'll let you know as soon as things change.' The bank manager was being pushy – more pushy than usual, which meant she was in more trouble than usual. She swallowed, and tried to act confident.

‘Yes, it must be …
Very
inconvenient … but in thirty days it could all be over, you see and then you won't have to keep calling me. For which I apologise most profusely … yes, again.'

Awkward …

The mobile was throbbing now, she swore it was throbbing – or else her head was.
One final tactic
, she thought, when the voice just wouldn't shut up.

‘Mr Rosebery, how about this? I could always send in my mother to give you the full low down on this new deal. You know how much she enjoyed seeing you last time, and … No? Oh. Okay then, if you say so … Oh, did she? … Oh dear, I'm sorry to hear that. Have you tried removing it with bleach?'
What else has the woman been up to and not told me?
Sadie thought.
Change the subject, fast.

‘So how's the new Mrs Rosebery? … Good … No, there's still no one for me. It's all about the business now … Yes, it
is
proper business! In fact I'm finding …' Sadie caught herself, and decided to take the plunge.
Think positive
. ‘I've already
found
an investor for the Frish company, and they're paying me a lot of money to help seal the deal and do the follow-up. That's why it could all be over in thirty days. It's, er … it's all being confirmed tomorrow.' Sadie was glad he couldn't see her crossing her fingers behind her back. ‘Soon. Yes, in my account soon. The money won't take long to transfer. It'll tie in perfectly with my next lot of debits, won't it? Ha-ha. Isn't it funny how the universe works in mysterious ways?'

Sadie cringed – she hated lying, one of her big things was honesty. Usually. But not on this trip, apparently.

It wasn't totally a lie though – the deal
was
on the table after all, and the billionaire investor
was
meeting her tomorrow. And it
could
indeed happen in thirty days. Couldn't it?

What's more, as she explained to a suddenly much more genial Mr Rosebery,
time was indeed of the essence.
What she didn't tell him was that otherwise the Frish Company – FrishCo – would accept an alternative offer from a competitor. It was a very short deadline for normal people. But even her pompous bank manager – and ex-almost-stepfather – had to agree there was nothing normal about Sadie. Including refusing to call him by his first name once he'd split up with her mother.
Formality is good in business,
she thought to herself. Unless you're travelling Club Class.

‘Yes, Mr Rosebery,' she concluded, ‘I'll see what I can do to get some funds in the account for now. But I can assure you, nothing – and I mean nothing – can get in the way of this deal.' He seemed to accept the certainty in her voice,
thank God.

Grateful for the reprieve, Sadie hung up and put the phone away once more and hoisted her heavy bag. She was getting tired – and not just today. In truth, it was nice to have a break from the shop – and her routine – and the day-to-day burden of running her own business, solo. To escape from it all – even if only for one night. In any case, the babysitting credits, and the loans from Bank of Mum were fast running out.

Sadie smiled, then walked over to say goodbye – again – to Hot Boat Guy. Time to get back to real life.

‘Why leave so soon? Got more “boats” to see?' he asked, wandering back down towards her. ‘I guess you agents usually see several in one trip, don't you?'

‘I'm not an agent,' she replied. ‘Double, secret, provocateur or otherwise.'

‘Okay then, maybe you're a sales exec for his competition?' he said, nodding towards the
Nomusa
. ‘Are you with Rigby's?'

‘No.'

‘Geller and Geller?'

‘No, actually …' she hesitated.
No point in explaining – where would I even begin?
‘Look, I really have to go. Nice to meet you. And don't worry – someone else will be along in a while and you can eavesdrop on them instead!'

He just grinned in reply. Feeling the thrill of flirtation fluttering through her body, she gave a superior shrug, and swung her handbag slightly, trying her hardest to look confident. But the cobbles underfoot did their best to prove otherwise, toying with the high heels of the borrowed Jimmy Choo's – they were her sister's redundancy money treat, so ‘scuff them and die'. Sadie skipped a little, to avoid damaging them on the rounded stones. Again he looked amused. Or condescending, she couldn't quite work out which.

‘Sorry – not the best choice of footwear, is it?' she said.

He looked down at her feet, thoughtfully. ‘Oh, I wouldn't say that.' Then their eyes met, meaningfully and the air sizzled between them in the silence
.

‘Nice to meet you, then,' she said again, and held out her hand as if to shake his, but his dirty mitts just waved the oily rag, as if to say
bad idea
.

‘You too,' he said. ‘See you next Open Day. And don't forget the shore is that way.' Sadie's look said it all. ‘Oh, and good luck finding your
dream boat
,' he added with a wink.

Can he mind read?

Sadie hoisted her handbag again, and the brochure once more dropped to the jetty. Bending down to pick it up, even more awkwardly now she was being watched, she then dropped her sister's expensive sunglasses.
What a klutz,
she thought.

Immediately and before she could say anything, the man nimbly sprang down and picked them up for her. This time she noticed he was barefoot. Without a word, just a smile, he handed them back to her. His fingers touched hers and a spark of electricity raced through her.

‘Thank you.'

Close up now, she could see the tiny sprinkle of silver at his temples, making him all the more interesting. Striking azure-blue eyes, like the ocean, twinkling with anticipation. And as for the way he was looking at her …

Wonder what he kisses like.

Sadie!

But her body was rebelling. Maybe – just maybe – playing along some more might be fun, so far from home. Who's to know? Maybe it would bring back a bit of that supreme Student Sadie confidence she'd had at uni, all those years ago. Just over a decade and a half ago, in fact. Yes, a bit of confidence boosting sure wouldn't go amiss ahead of the scary boardroom at nine a.m. tomorrow – it'd be better than wine. And maybe, just once, it would be good not to be the sensible one. Just once not to have to obey every rule. Just, for once, not to be … herself.

What do they say? What happens in Monaco stays in Monaco?

Suddenly another voice broke the tension.

‘Mac, are you finishing up? I'm heading ashore soon.' An older, distinguished man appeared in a uniform. He raised his eyebrow when he saw Sadie.

‘Aye, aye, Cap'n!' Mac replied.

The older man rolled his eyes, and then ducked back inside, mumbling to himself.

Sadie snapped out of the daydream. ‘Sorry, you really mustn't let me keep you from your work,' she said. ‘Wouldn't want you to get in trouble with your boss.'

‘Actually, I'm the boss,' he replied, grinning. Sadie eyed up his frayed shorts and oily hands and smiled. Along with the London accent, it didn't convince her. She knew a wind-up when she saw one.

‘Hmmm,
sure
you are,' she said. Mac was looking at her strangely. ‘Seriously, he looks like he runs a tight ship. You wouldn't want to cross him. I'm guessing he's the Captain? The boss of your boat, right?'

Mac hesitated, and then laughed. ‘Well, yes, he's the “boss of the boat”.'

‘Well, then.'

‘And no, you're right – you definitely wouldn't want to cross our Captain Wiltshire. You wouldn't like him when he's angry – he's a real slave driver to us mere deckhands and no mistake. In fact, when he's in the mood, he'll make you walk the plank as soon as look at you!'

‘Well, before he splices your mainbrace, you'd better get on with scrubbing the deck, or … shipping ahoy, or … whatever.' Her clichés dried up along with her courage, and she was starting to feel a little weak beneath the piercing, inquisitive gaze of those eyes.

‘Wow, sounds like you're right at home with all the ship talk. No wonder you had your eye on a cruiser.'

‘A what?'

‘Sunseeker … cruiser … that “boat” on your brochure – theirs is a cruiser.'

‘Ahh,' replied Sadie with a grin. ‘And what is this? The
Nomad
, you said?'

‘Yes,
this
is the
Nomad
,' he said, puffing up proudly. ‘She's a superyacht. A Ferretti Custom Line 124.'

‘Ohh, ri-i-i-ght, a “super” yacht.' She nodded, not sure if he was still winding her up or if that was a real term. In any case, it was time to own up. Being footloose on the French Riviera with all its colour and character was making her more carefree than she could recall – taking the edge off her inhibitions. But freedom and champagne were a fatal combination – Sadie always got ‘honest' before she got drunk.

She leaned in towards him. ‘Actually, can I tell you a secret?'

‘Only if you don't have to kill me after.'

‘I'm really
not
buying a boat … er, cruiser. I was just killing time. The sales guy thought I was someone else, you see. So – promise you won't tell anyone – I gatecrashed.'

‘You
didn't
!' Mac leaned in. So close now she could smell his heady fresh male odour.

‘I did. I couldn't tell him the only boat I've ever owned is a gravy boat.'

He laughed, the warm, throaty sound reverberating in the air. He had a great laugh.

‘But I'll tell you something,' she went on, aware she was rambling but unable to stop. ‘When I get my next million, I'll definitely bear it in mind.'

‘Ahh, so you're one of those landlubbers who comes to all the viewings, but never signs on the dotted line!'

‘What can I say – so many boats, so little time.'