Read Hawaiian Affair (Part 1 of 4) (Hawaiian Affair - 30 days to sign the deal - and stay out of love) for Free Online Page A

back in and brought a whole load of hum-drum with it. In a split
second, she knew what to say.
    ‘...Samantha.’
Pretending not to be herself had been very enjoyable so far, so she might as
well go the whole hog. ‘But you can call me Sam. And Mac,’ she said as she
turned to walk away. ‘No more spying on people. Deal?’
    ‘Deal.’
He shook her hand formally. ‘Ok “Sam”, see you at seven.’
     
     
     
    Mac
watched her sashaying off into the distance, until she had disappeared amongst
the sightseers on the shore. What the hell just happened? He hated lying
at the best of times – although he had done it often at the worst of times.
That was because it often used to come with the territory – especially in the
early years - wherever women were concerned. But anyone can change, right?
    What
an interesting last day this had been.  And it wasn’t over yet.
    Mac
finished tidying away his work, and trotted off with a spring in his step,
completely oblivious to the occasional glints flashing away in the distance once
more, way up in the hillside above him.
     
     
     
    Because
Mac wasn’t the only one doing the spying. High above the harbour, a pair of
binoculars was lowered. A mobile phone raised, a window closed, and a silver
Mercedes SLK convertible pulled away in the direction of Monte Carlo.

CHAPTER TWO
     
    Mac
felt like a kid again. He pondered what the hell had just happened to make Mr
Cool and Sophisticated disappear into the ocean along with her handbag. Toying
with his neck-chain again, he’d watched her clip-clop her way back along the
jetty. He mentally chastised himself. Where was his usual reserve? Where was
his normal play it cool, no matter who philosophy?
    ‘What
the hell happened there, boss man?’ Said an olive-skinned man in chef’s whites
who was waiting for him inside a doorway on the deck. He handed Mac a fluffy
white towel. As he took it to dry himself down, a dozen or so faces - all
peering through nearby windows and round corners - instantly scattered.
    ‘Beats
me, Mario.’
    ‘She
say no? I can’t wait to tell the boys if she say no. Tell me she said no...’
    ‘She nearly said no.’
    ‘Which
means she still said yes – goddam, playboy rich kid from the wrong side of the
tracks.’
    Mac
slapped him hard on the shoulder, and he cursed.
    ‘Now
- you slumming it with us for dinner tonight?’ Mario’s voice went all
sing-song, ‘It’s your last night in resi-dennnnce… I’m cooking your favour-eeet?’
    ‘Leave
me a plate, I’m not sure how the evening will turn out.’
    ‘Mamma
mia. You might not be, but we are - very sure. It will
turn out just as it always does.’
    ‘Always
did, Mario, always did.’
    ‘Leopards,
spots, leopards, spots,’ said the chef as they both disappeared inside. ’Maybe the
spots get smaller – but they’re always there.’
     
    Mac
passed down a corridor full of photos of himself meeting various dignitaries
and celebrities, with Mario’s words ringing in his ears, and thought about his
image and how it had changed over the years.
    New
kid on the block.
    Property
developer.
    Playboy
property developer.
    Playboy
Billionaire.
    Philanthropist,
entrepreneur, midas-touch investor – there were various paparazzi terms used
for him, but he never kept the headlines, only the images.
    A
line of chronological pictures on the wall punctuated most of his major
achievements. At one end, a shot of him in a hard hat, topping off, or
finishing, his first office building project – less grey, less tanned, less
wrinkled.  At the other end a photo from a couple of years ago that had made
every financial publication – marking a deal that had truly put him on the map
internationally, and earned his place amongst the high flying venture
capitalists – amongst the big fish .  There weren’t many in that sought-after
clique, and he’d worked hard to get there. That’s what had made a single life
worthwhile throughout those years. Wasn’t