Take a Chance on Me Page 3

  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.’

  ‘I thought that was men.’

  ‘Nope – no time for men, unless they’re rich!’ Sadie giggled.

  Mac didn’t.

  Out of nowhere the Captain’s head suddenly reappeared. ‘Mac, can I have a word?’ he said, making Sadie jump slightly.

  ‘Can’t it wait? I’m a bit … busy,’ Mac replied.

  ‘Best if it’s now,’ the Captain said, and he disappeared inside again with a ‘harrumph’.

  Mac hesitated, turned to go, then turned back and touched Sadie’s arm.

  ‘Stay here a sec, will you?’ he asked. ‘I have a question for you.’

  ‘Er … okay,’ Sadie replied before she had time to think about it.

  ‘In fact, come up and make yourself comfy on the lounger over there – but take off your shoes before you board.’

  ‘You’re kidding me, right?’

  ‘No, it’s protocol. If you’re going to be a rich yacht owner you’d better get used to it!’ And he disappeared up the gangplank and inside.

  Sadie was left standing there, fighting a losing battle with her conscience. A feeling of foreboding was being beaten by a buoyant thrill of flirtation. She rubbed her chest. It was filled with palpitations again, as she forced herself to think of tomorrow’s make-or-break presentation and a boardroom full of grown-ups. One deep breath later, she was clutching her shoes and walking slowly up the gangplank, holding tightly onto the rail.

  What am I doing?

  The young Sadie wouldn’t have hesitated to let off steam with a very wild night out, but the older Sadie had packed her away years ago. Along with the short skirts and crop tops, and the belly button piercing she’d never quite managed to re-insert after the instructor at Center Parcs wouldn’t let her abseil unless she took it out. Years ago.

  I’m not that person any more.

  I don’t belong here.

  She shook her head and turned to leave, but just then Mac reappeared at the door. He was smiling but appeared to have been duly reprimanded, and was called back to the doorway briefly by the Captain, who muttered something under his breath then hovered a while before shaking his head and turning away. Mac rolled his eyes and skipped back over.

  ‘Sorry about that. Where were we?’ he said.

  ‘About to say goodbye, I’m afraid. Good luck with your power-yacht.’

  ‘Superyacht.’

  ‘Is that really a thing?’

  ‘Yes, it’s really a “thing”.’

  ‘Well, that then. Now I’ve really got to go.’ She stood up and went to put her shoes back on.

  ‘Oh – not on here,’ he said, reaching out an arm and stopping her. ‘The Captain will kill you if you make any marks on his precious deck that I’ve spent the last hour scrubbing.’

  Sadie paused with her high heel half on, half off and the whole world went into slow motion. To her utter dismay, her leg went one way and her heel went the other. She swayed unsteadily, nearly toppled over the side, and then lurched straight forward – right into his open arms.

  Her precious designer bag, however, made a bid for freedom. It swung loose, and before she could react, it was in the air, over the railings and down the side of the hull, making a small plop as it fell into the sea, yards below.

  ‘Oh my God! It’s sinking, it’s sinking!’ she cried, making a bid for the edge.

  ‘Hold on, Trouble!’ He pulled her back.

  ‘My life’s in that bag!’

  ‘Well, we’d better get it back then, hadn’t we? Allow me.’ In one smooth movement, he launched himself over the side. Sadie was speechless. She felt her knees going weak, and stumbled further along, trying to get a better view. She squinted her eyes, breathed deeply, and waited for him to reappear. Please God let him bring it back.

  Her mind went into overdrive, playing out various ‘no mobile’ scenarios, and struggled to even remember her home number. The seconds ticked by and Sadie looked up and down, left and right. Shoeless, on the deck of a multi-million pound yacht, everything suddenly felt terribly, terribly wrong. She should have left earlier, while the going was good. Before the doofus inside her came out to play.

  Why is it always me?

  Moments later there was a tap on her foot and a massive squelch. There, by her feet in all its waterlogged glory, was her best posh bag.

  Or, more accurately, her only posh bag.

  It didn’t matter that it had been half price in the sale, it was her pride and joy – a combined gift from her mum, sister, and two daughters for Christmas and Mothers’ Day all rolled into one.

  Thank goodness it wasn’t leather.

  Two hundred pounds worth of Lulu Guinness bright red designer vinyl was unique enough with its cameo queen’s head on one side. Now the PVC queen had a green seaweedy beard. Sadie watched in a daze as her gallant hero hauled himself up onto the deck, cascades of water running in rivulets over his shoulders, past his neck chain, down his chest and across his washboard stomach before cascading down the little shorts and over his bronzed thighs. He raised his arms above his head and pushed his hair back from his eyes.

  He’s a Chippendale, he’s actually a Chippendale, thought Sadie, transfixed.

  Then he bent down and gallantly pulled off the slimy plant, tilted the bag and grinned as a dribble of the Mediterranean came out through the zip onto the deck. Then he handed it back.

  ‘Thank you,’ she croaked, looking up at him standing there, dripping but triumphant.

  He bowed. ‘It was my pleasure, m’lady, to rescue your life for you.’

  She beamed. ‘You’ve no idea how long I’ve waited for someone to say that.’ Then she surprised them both by throwing her arms around his still wet neck and kissing him on the cheek.

  ‘Mmmmwah! That was to say thank you,’ she said, unsteadily. But instead of letting her pull away, he slid his arm around her waist, and drew her towards him, till his lips were almost touching hers.

  She gasped.

  ‘And this is to say you’re welcome,’ he said. Then he bent towards her, but at the last minute planted a lingering kiss on her cheek, just grazing the very tip of her mouth. Sadie’s most sensitive bit. Her knees buckled slightly under the powerful jolts of desire darting around her body. When it ended and he brushed against her lips again as he pulled back slightly, she didn’t back away.

  Standing there virtually nose-to-nose, she felt her heart pounding and knew she should leave, but his mouth was mesmerising her – his full mouth – the mouth that had just almost kissed hers. The zing was still coursing through her traitorous body. More, more. He stood his ground, looking deep into her eyes, so close she could almost taste him. She certainly wanted to.

  For the longest moment, they were motionless, her arms around his neck, his arms around her waist. He was dripping wet and half-naked and this felt good.

  The temptation to feel those lips again was overpowering. But she was not the sort of girl to start something she knew she couldn’t finish. So with a sigh she stepped away.

  ‘Long time since I’ve been given a thank you like that,’ he said.

  ‘Long time since I’ve needed to give one,’ she replied, and felt her cheeks flush.

  He looked thoughtful. ‘Actually, I was thinking there’s another way you could thank me.’ He suddenly seemed almost bashful. ‘I meant to ask … Why don’t you meet me ashore this evening? If you’re free? It’s my last night here – the Nomad sets sail tomorrow.’

  ‘Oh, the old “one night of pleasure”’ ploy,’ Sadie said, trying to play it cool. If he couldn’t hear her heart before, he must surely be able to now.

  He just smiled back, and raised his eyebrows. An air of vulnerability had washed over him, waiting for her verdict. How endearing.

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nbsp; ‘I, em …’ Sensible Sadie was tugging at her conscience – refuse, young lady. Get out of here. But Fun Sadie was winning the battle. Right now she should be heading back to a computer file full of facts and figures, budgets and cash flow forecasts. But she felt magnetised to the spot. The epitome of torn.

  But you know every word already. Every page, every projection.

  Maybe a little ‘r and r’ tonight would help her get centred for tomorrow – help her go all-out to impress the investor, the top man himself. All she had to do was make him like her and want to invest in her. And who didn’t like Sadie? This Mac guy certainly did – she’d felt it in his body, seen it in his eyes.

  ‘I’m not sure. I’ve got people to see—’

  ‘Places to go, yes I know,’ he added. ‘But I’m still asking.’

  A loud ‘fairy tale’ alert was ringing in her ears. The thought of getting up close and personal with this sexy stranger was like her purest fantasy. But this wasn’t a fantasy – it was real life. Although, come to think of it, the whole of the last month had been something of a dream … so why break the spell now? Winning a competition, jetting off to far-flung corners of the earth to pick up her prize, and beginning the helter-skelter business ride she was now clinging onto by her fingertips. So why not add a fling? No one would know. And if she didn’t do it now, it might be months – years – before she got another chance for a no-strings encounter like this. If indeed, that was what he was offering.

  ‘Well?’ he asked.

  ‘A-are you always such a quick worker?’ she gasped.

  ‘Only with anyone in a tight navy suit and very inappropriate footwear.’

  ‘Even the women?’

  He laughed.

  ‘Mac – I need you – now, please!’ came the Captain’s voice again.

  ‘With you in a sec, Cap’n. Just finishing up here.’ He turned to Sadie. ‘Or have we just started?’

  She smiled.

  He beamed back, he genuinely glowed, and Sadie felt a thrill of awareness, a rush of adrenalin. And an overpowering urge to dance a little.