An Honorable Surprise (4 page)

“Then let’s order.”

They both enjoyed the lobster which had been landed that morning at the harbour, and Simon made Tamara laugh as he described his own attempts at deep sea fishing. “Let me give you some advice,” he finished, “Next time you organise one of those fishing trips as a corporate hospitality experience, make sure there are tame marlin underneath the boat for me to catch. Better still, for my clients to catch!”

Tamara pushed her plate away and looked at the man opposite her. She had not anticipated how the evening might develop. Simon was not the aggressive alpha male that she expected, nor was he the bully that she imagined when they had spoken on the telephone. In fact, there were aspects that she found intriguing. He hardly talked about his company, and seemed more interested describing the environmental work he was funding.

“Take this poor lobster,” he said. “Millions of years of evolution have made him the predator he is - there’s precious little out there that he’s afraid of. But he’s up against an invisible enemy.”

“Which is?” Tamara asked politely, knowing she was about to be told, and hoping it wouldn’t turn into an eco-lecture.

Simon glanced at her, “I’ll keep it short,” he smiled. “It’s pollution that is hitting these lobsters. Their hard shells, their aggressive, take-no-prisoner lifestyle - none of it’s any good.”

“So what’s to do? I mean, we’re all guilty aren’t we?”

“It’s complicated, I admit. But I’m funding marine research that’s investigating ways that our oceans remain clean. In fact, that may even become cleaner if we can start making headway into recovering some of the pollution that’s wrecking marine life.”

His voice had taken on a serious intensity; Tamara felt that Simon wasn’t talking to her, but was dictating a memo to himself to be acted on later.
 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m like that. I get carried away and start giving people lectures. I apologise.”
 

And then he grinned at her.
 

Tamara was shaken, and laughed nervously. Up till this moment they had both been polite but suddenly she felt he had opened up and his real feelings were pouring from him. He had the most gorgeous turquoise blue eyes, and they transfixed her, willing her to respond. For a moment she was at a loss for words and she had to drag her gaze away.
I’m not going to be bamboozled by this guy.
 

Simon hadn’t been grandstanding, but he noticed the subtle change in her expression. Up till now her eyes have been nervous, but she’s decided on a course of action, he thought to himself. He knew himself too well not to admit that he was attracted to this impossibly glamorous woman but she certainly wasn’t giving any sign that she found him of interest.
 

“Let me be straight,” he went on, as the waiter brought their coffee. “I meant what I said. You don’t have to come with me. It really is your choice. And I won’t blackmail you, either. Forget what I said about pulling the account - you do a great job and I don’t want any of that to change. So why don’t we look at my proposal as a business proposition. I need a companion - your company supplies one. You. But you can look on it as being a mystery shopper experience. Why don’t you give yourself the chance - at my expense, I should add - to experience the service you offer at first hand. It may be that you can find ways to improve it?”

He leaned back and looked at Tamara shrewdly. If he had read her correctly, she would go with his plan. Not that he expected her to be a walkover.
 

Tamara stirred her coffee and thought quickly. At least the account was safe, she thought. She could just walk out and be done with it. He was an attractive man, but not someone that she felt attracted to. On the other hand, an all expenses trip to Italy that would allow her to really see if her company delivered the service that it claimed, could do her career no harm. She glanced at her watch.

“I’m sorry. I’ve got to leave. It’s been a delightful evening.”

“What have you got to say about my proposal?”

“I’m glad you’re not going to blackmail me. I’m glad you haven’t cancelled your trip. It’s a good one. And, I’m afraid, your costs are non-refundable were you to cancel at this late stage.”
Not that he would even notice the money.
 

“And?”

Tamara reached for her bag, and pushed her chair back. “You’ve given me a lot to think about, Mr Henty - “

“Simon?”

“I can’t say that your plan is irresistible, because the trip won’t be a surprise - it’s one that I planned for you, so no surprises there. And spending ten days in close confinement with a stranger is not high on my list of things to do before I die!”

He looked at her as she stood up, and rose to his feet.
 

“But I’ll see you at the airport,” she said.

Simon watched her walk out of the restaurant, her glossy hair trailing down her back, her bare shoulders catching the flickering light from the chandeliers, and then sat thoughtfully at his table. Then he reached for his phone and punched a number.

“Damian? I want you to do a background check for me. No, this is deep cover. Don’t leave a trail, just find out all you can. It’s a woman. Tamara Tremaine.”

Chapter 5

Tamara was walking past Donna’s desk next day when a tabloid newspaper headline stopped her in her tracks. She always teased Donna about her reading - her P.A’s head was always buried in celebrity magazines. But it was a grainy photograph that caught Tamara’s eye with its screaming headline, “Billionaire Enjoys Night Out With Mystery Friend.”
 

The shot had been taken from across the Club restaurant, probably by a waiter, Tamara thought. She had her back towards the photographer. Simon was looking over her shoulder, straight at the camera. . Thank God she had worn her hair long - it would be very difficult for anyone to recognise who it was, and she was still looking at the photograph when Donna returned to the office and caught her reading the article.

“Hey - I knew you were a closet celeb watcher. So who’s in the news?” Snatching the newspaper Donna scanned the page. “I knew it - Simon Henty, our man with the money,” she shouted gleefully. “And this picture was taken at The Club - he must have been there when you were? Did you talk to him?”

Tamara smiled. “Nope, I had a text from my friend before I left. We decided to meet down at the harbor - that new sushi place.
 
I can recommend it.”

“Ugh - sushi.” Donna grimaced, sitting at her desk. “Still - you had a good time?”

“Yes, it was fun,” Tamara agreed, wondering how she had become so good at telling small lies over the years. “But I came away feeling I needed a break from Sydney. I’ve decided to take some vacation. We’re up to speed with projects here; Simon Henty is getting out of our hair in a couple days’ time and you can still get hold of me whenever you need to.”

“Hey - that’s great news, Tamara! Wasn’t I just saying yesterday that I was worried you didn’t have a life? Where are you taking off to?”

“I’m going up to Byron Bay - some friends are taking off and said I could house sit - they’ve got a stunning house above the bay by the ocean. I’ll take some trashy novels, sun cream and chill.”

“I’m being left in charge of the shop!” Donna said theatrically.

“Not quite. I’ll be my getting emails,” Tamara said quickly.
 

“That doesn’t sound much like a vacation?”

“I know - but New York is chasing everyone as the stock market listing draws nearer. I don’t want to make them jumpy.”

I think I’ve got away with it.
 

But Tamara found the next couple of days were a torture. She knew that Simon’s high profile in the gossip columns meant that any scrap of news to do with his love life - real or imagined - was red meat to journalists. She couldn’t stand the thought of the tabloids digging into the past she had tried so hard to forget and splashing it across a centrefold for the whole world to see.

But it turned out not to be difficult to leave the office for ten days; Donna was primed to email if anything serious cropped up, so all that remained were her own travel arrangements. It helped that she knew every detail of the trip that she and Simon were taking. Italy would be hot but it would be cool on the coast.

When she was at home she sorted out the clothes she would need, and wondered
 
about her bikini.
 
It flattered her body but she didn’t want to give Simon any ideas. Still, she would cross that bridge when she got to it. In any case, he was used to high end catwalk models with limbs to die for; she didn’t think that she would be any competition.

At the same time, she suddenly found herself wondering what he would look like by the pool. He obviously kept in good shape and looked as though he worked out regularly. He had said something about scuba diving when they had dinner.

The most difficult part of the journey, she reasoned, would be the flight. Luxurious though it would be, there would be no getting away from him. Before she knew it, however, she was waiting for the driver from Simon’s company to take her to the airport She
 
looked at her scuffed case. It
 
hadn’t been used for years, and Tamara hoped it wouldn’t look out of place in the luxury villa where they would be staying.

“So you made it? I thought you might bunk off!”

“How do you do, Mr Henty,” Tamara said formally, smiling. “You need to know that I always keep my promises! I obeyed your bidding!”

Tamara had enjoyed the trip to the airport in the executive limo that had drawn up outside her apartment an hour or so previously. She had been living in a different world when she was last chauffeured to a waiting jet, and she tried not to think about the bitter sweet memories that the ride to Sydney International Airport reminded her of.
 

Instead of following the standard departure terminal signs, her car swung away from the main highway along a perimeter road that led to that part of the airfield which handled the private jet traffic. There was a smart, single story terminal, and Tamara saw Simon as soon as she walked through the automatic doors into the cool reception area.

“Got your stuff then?”

She looked at him, taking in his crisp dark blue shirt, pale chinos and expensive loafers. “I think I should be checking that you’re all organised,” she replied. “Passport? Visas? Money? Toothbrush?”

He burst out laughing. “God, you’re worse than my P.A! Yes, yes, yes and yes. And I’m assuming you’re sorted as well.” He turned to speak to an official who was checking their travel documents. “Thanks, Mike. Everything you need is here except for - “

“My passport?”

“Thank you, Madam. We will be able to sort this quickly and then you can make your way to your jet. It’s your usual crew, sir,” he finished, to Simon.

Tamara mentally ticked the boxes as the strolled into the VIP lounge. She was looking forward to seeing how well her company delivered. Reception had been good and the paperwork handled professionally. Looking through the smoke tinted glass she could see the Gulfstream executive jet that would be their magic carpet to Italy. Luxurious, fast, and hideously expensive, it was exactly the type of aircraft leased by people like Simon.
 

An attractive stewardess approached and shook hands with them both. “Welcome back, Mr Henty, and can I welcome you, too, Ms Tremaine?”
Another box ticked.
 

“Are we ready to go?” asked Simon.

The stewardess looked at him adoringly. “Follow me, Sir. You can meet the flight crew on board.” Simon seemed unaffected and smiled politely.
 

Does he always have this effect on women?
 

“Did you sort out the menus?” Simon whispered to Tamara as they walked across the hot tarmac towards the dazzlingly white corporate jet, the heat waves dancing off the asphalt.
 

“Your usual requirements, sir,” Tamara said noncommittally, glancing at him.
 

He laughed, and held her arm lightly as they walked towards the aircraft steps. Tamara unexpectedly found herself enjoying his physical proximity; Simon was a man used to giving orders, and for a brief instant she wondered whether she might actually enjoy the next ten days.

The stewardess led them along the thick carpeted aisle to the main seating area. “Your baggage has been loaded,” she told them, “and I’m told we’ll get clearance in about twenty minutes.”

“Mmm - it’s plain, isn’t it?” Tamara joked as they walked into the spacious main cabin with its reclining leather armchairs, veneered polished tables and video screens.

Simon looked at her in surprise before he realised she was teasing. “What do you mean?” he began, and then burst out laughing. “You’re right,” he said. “It’s insanely over the top but it is going to be a long flight.”

Tamara knew there were luxurious changing and shower facilities on board, and the rear third of the fuselage had been configured to accommodate Simon’s security and business team .

There was a low hum from the rear of the cabin. Tamara turned and saw the shimmering sunlight outside was being silently folded away by the passenger steps rising and closing into the fuselage.

“Can I serve any refreshments? We’ll be serving lunch shortly after we’re airborne and reached cruising altitude.”

“No. I’m fine,” Simon said brusquely and sat down. “Oh, er - “

“Thank you, but no,” Tamara told the stewardess. “Maybe later.”

“There’s plenty of seating choice,” Simon said. “The configuration is for four main passengers, so you can take your pick. Everyone else is squeezed into the back of the plane.”

“Who else is there?”

“Well, I need people from the office.” He looked at her. “Is that a criticism?”

“No, just a query. But then, I was thinking about the cost.”

“Tamara - for the next ten days - I don’t want you to think about cost. That’s my affair. Your affair is to help me spend my money enjoyably. It’s taken me a lot of effort to get to where I am, and I intend to enjoy myself. Oh - and I want you to enjoy yourself too,” he ended lamely.