Page 14 of The Negotiator
“I’m not doing it, Paul. They said no. We should just leave them alone.”
Paul’s sharp bark of laughter pierces the tranquility of this place. “No fucking way. You’re the last person I would’ve thought who’d think with his dick. Are you telling me you’re throwing away millions of profit for a mere slip of a girl?”
“Something Dad should’ve done for Mom, don’t you think?”
He stops for a beat, and when he speaks, his voice is menacingly low. “What the fuck do you mean?”
“Don’t tell me you never thought of it. Mom falling into depression, drinking herself into oblivion, and mixing her sleeping pills with her favorite bottle of red wine.” I sigh and massage the back of my neck. “Dad was too obsessed with adding numbers to his net worth. He thought being rich and powerful was all that. In the end, he won against his competitors but lost his wife.” I stare hard at Paul, desperate for him to understand. “I don’t want that to happen to me.”
“You’ve only been here for two weeks.” His earlier vitriol is gone and is replaced by a mix of confusion and doubt.
“I know. Isn’t it strange that I’ve traveled all over the world, lived in the most expensive addresses, and I don’t want to leave? This place is home. I found my home, Paul.” With slight hesitation, I rest a hand on his shoulder, even though we never normally touch. “And I hope someday you can find yours too. We don’t have to be like Dad.”
The fight goes out of him, and he runs a hand through his hair, messing it up. I rarely contradict him, so he knows whatever this is isn’t just a passing whim. It’s serious. “What do you propose we do? We can’t just abandon the project. The board will go nuts.”
“How about we stick to the ultra-rich as our target market? Let’s continue with the twelve villas and market them as super exclusive. The 1% will eat it up. You can sell the rocks for a hundred dollars a piece, and they’d bring it home and brag about it to their friends.”
Paul releases a huge breath and digs his hands into his pockets. He’s turned from an angry, concerned brother to a billionaire businessman. “What else?”
“Give all the jobs to the locals, obviously, including the chef and sous chef positions. The ones you hired? They don’t fit here, maybe in the resort in Bali or the hotel in Paris, but not here. Buy supplies from the locals, additional furniture, etc. Listen, I have this idea about…”
What started as a confrontation ended with me and Paul discussing business plans. My brother may be similar to Dad in terms of how driven he is, but he also loved Mom. We both did, and the last thing we want is to end up as miserable as Dad after he lost her.
Paul may not understand my feelings for Olivia, but he understands loss. At least we have that in common.
6
OLIVIA
Paul is one scary fellow, and I’m mighty glad he eventually came around. He and Oliver spent the next few days discussing plans, but my neighbors already knew they wouldn’t force us to sell our homes. Besides, it’s a good thing that some of them won’t need to go every day to the mainland to sell stuff or work. They can stay right on the island and still make money.
I haven’t seen Oliver in two days, and I miss him. I know, I know. Who is this woman trapped inside my body? Maybe he was right. I’m a needy girl. Oh God. The way he said that has my core tingling. And yes, I’m needy and clingy.
Welcome to my life.
I’ve just arrived on the island after an exhausting ten-hour shift when Mom and Sammy rush from the terrace, waving a small piece of paper.
What the heck?
“You need to take a shower. It’s almost seven! Why did you get home so late?” Mom’s face is flushed, and she’s giddy with excitement.
“There were more customers than usual. Why? Am I supposed to be home at seven?”
Sammy shoves me toward the house, and for an eight-year-old, she’s pretty strong. Giggling while trying to maintain my balance is quite a challenge.
When we get inside, Mom drops a small box into my arms. “Go shower and change.”
“Can someone please explain to me what’s going on?” I ask, and they both look at each other and smile.
Sammy grabs the small card from Mom and puts it over the box. “Oli the second is taking you out to dinner. He dropped that box and note earlier, but you weren’t home, and you weren’t answering your phone.”
“Wait, why are you calling him Oli? I’m Oli.”
Sammy beams. “He said his mom used to call him Oli. So now he’s Oli the second.”
Oliver’s relationship with Mom and Sammy does something to me. He doesn’t easily warm up to other people, which is why it’s easy to mistake him for being cold and arrogant. The fact that he hangs out at home even when I’m not here speaks volumes.
“Olivia, what are you waiting for? Go shower.” Mom pushes me to the bathroom, and Sammy helps her.