Page 9

JEM

When I woke up this morning, I never imagined my life would have taken such a wild turn. But then, I woke up next to Dee, so it always had the potential to veer towards the absurd.

I take a break from working to glance out of the window of the luxury private plane Tim Donovan has invited us to join him on, in order to execute a charm offensive on what turns out to be one of the most influential titans of business to walk the planet: Sir Jeff Blackmore.

The plush leather armchairs and soft wool carpets in the cabin look – and smell – new.

In fact, it reeks of money in here. It’s all understated interior design and sophistication.

Aspirational as fuck.

Not that it’s ever been one of my life goals to own a private jet. I just want enough money to be secure. I want to know I can get myself – and anyone I love – out of trouble if I need to. I’m not interested in owning a fleet of sports cars or a mansion in every country; I just want to feel safe.

Speaking of feeling safe, I’m not entirely sure what made me say I’d come along on this trip.

I think it was something to do with the look on Dee’s face when her dad had been about to dismiss her offer of help.

I felt a pang, deep in my chest, seeing her dismayed reaction.

Bea’s always told me that their dad plays favourites, but I’ve never actually seen it before.

And it felt pretty brutal.

But maybe Dee was just worried she was going to be found out and her reaction was more about being desperate to keep up the ruse she and Bea have going.

I don’t know. I can’t work her out.

But I didn’t want Bea to have to deal with this, so I stepped in on her behalf. As a friend.

I get why Tim might have paused when Dee suggested that she go in Bea’s place, though.

They’ve always had a combative relationship, which isn’t the look Tim’s going for in front of such an influential business connection.

I guess he’ll be hoping that I act as a buffer between him and Dee and – what? – keep her in line?

Ha. No chance. Not Dee.

There’s no way she’d listen to me.

Not that I’d ever attempt to control anything she does. I wouldn’t do that to anyone, let alone someone as wilful as Delilah.

Closing the lid of my laptop, which I’ve been coding on since we took off, and looking over at her, I see she’s staring down at her mobile, reading an e-book on the screen. Her nose is wrinkled in concentration and a weird zing of pleasure hits me out of nowhere.

But it won’t be because she looks cute when she’s clearly getting a kick out of what she’s reading.

It’s more likely to be the fact I’m here on a private plane on the way to a Greek island, soon to be in the company of a major player in the world of business, that’s got me excited.

Yeah, that’ll be it.

As far as I’m aware, Tim hasn’t looked up from his mobile screen for the entirety of the journey so far either. He gave us the run-down of what he expects from us while we were waiting in the private lounge for the plane to be ready to board and hasn’t talked to us since.

I suspect he’s now doing a deep dive into anything he can find online that’ll help him win Blackmore over. He’s not got to the position he has without putting in the hours, after all.

I can see why Bea’s so inspired by him.

He’s a powerhouse of a man.

* * *

The rest of the flight is smooth and we land exactly at the time we were told we would. The whole thing’s a professional operation from start to finish – but then, if you’re worth billions like Sir Jeff, you probably command so much respect, no one wants to disappoint or inconvenience you.

I can only dream about having that sort of status.

After disembarking, we’re driven by limo to another part of the private airport where a sleek, black helicopter is waiting to take us to Kapheira Island.

According to Tim, the island’s been in the possession of Blackmore since the mid-eighties.

He used to lend it out to wealthy, elite families and royalty so they could holiday unbothered by paparazzi, but he’s stopped doing that now and only entertains friends and business acquaintances there.

So we’re honoured to be invited.

Dee’s been unusually quiet for the whole journey, which is making me a little nervous. I know she’s still in pain with her ankle – and has been grudgingly letting me help her get up and down any steps she can’t manage whilst using her crutches – but even so, it’s not like her to be this morose.

I wonder whether it’s something to do with being in her father’s company? Being around him seems to have turned her into a sullen teenager.

You see, that’s what I love about Bea: she doesn’t need looking after. I could never see myself with someone as high maintenance as Dee. I have enough on my plate looking after Mum as it is.

I glance over at Dee as the helicopter lifts away from the ground and she gives me a tight smile, her eyes a little wider than usual.

Is she nervous?

‘You okay?’ I mouth.

She nods, then leans towards me so she can speak directly into my ear, bringing her distinctive citrusy scent with her.

‘Honestly, I’m not the biggest fan of air travel. But don’t let on to my dad, okay.’ She pulls back to give me a stern warning look.

I return her nod. Huh, well that’s a surprise. I didn’t think Delilah Donovan was afraid of anything.

Looking down at her hands clasped in her lap, I realise she’s gripping them together so hard, they’re turning white.

Instinctively, I reach over and put one of my own onto hers.

She shoots me a look, her brows pinched, then to my surprise, unlocks her hands and slides one into mine, squeezing it tightly.

‘Thanks,’ she mutters, her smile stiff, but genuine.

For the rest of the twenty-minute journey, her hand remains in mine. It’s the strangest thing, holding hands with Dee. Another thing I thought I’d never do. It’s both comforting and weirdly compelling.

I tell myself not to think about how her mouth felt pressed firmly to mine last night when she came on to me in the office. But my mind won’t comply. And neither will my body.

I shift a little in the seat to disguise the physical reaction I’m experiencing at the memory of it.

This is not the time or place for that, I tell myself sternly. Get a bloody grip!

As the island comes into view, I lean towards the window to gaze out at it to distract myself.

I’d estimate it’s only about twenty acres in size, with a large house and a scattering of outbuildings sitting right in the centre, on top of a hill.

The majority of the rest of it is covered in trees, apart from a large area of lawn and landscaped gardens ringing the house, and there’s a clearly defined road leading down to a long sand beach in the north.

Dee’s grip tightens as we swiftly descend onto a helipad on the lawn.

The moment we’re down, she removes her rather sweaty hand from mine and starts fiddling about with the buckle of her seatbelt.

There’s an almost manic sort of energy to her now and I lay my hand onto her arm to attempt to reassure her this is going to be okay.

She shrugs me off. Not in an obvious way, so her dad will see, but in a subtle twitch and tension in her arm, like she doesn’t want me patronising her. Apparently, it was fine me comforting her while we were in the air, but now we’re on solid ground, she’s regained her bravado.

I don’t know why it bothers me so much, but it does. I was only trying to be friendly.

But then, we’re not friends. We don’t seem to be able to be.

‘Okay then. Let’s get this done,’ Tim says on the other side of me, like he’s about to go to war.

When both Dee and I look round at him, he fixes us with a stern look, his gaze darting between us. ‘Let me do most of the talking, and take my lead. Remember, we need to project a strong family unit here.’

‘All right, Dad, I know what needs to be done,’ Dee replies with an undertone of irritation. ‘I promise to be on my best behaviour.’

Tim just raises his eyebrows at her, which manages to convey exactly how unsure he is of both of those statements.

‘Don’t worry, we’re all on the same page, Tim,’ I say to draw fire away from the conflict brewing between them.

Hmm. Perhaps I’ve bitten off more than I can chew here, being around these two.

Still, there’s nothing I can do about it now.

There’s a tense pause before Tim says, ‘Okay then. Well, let’s get this show on the road.’ Then he opens the door of the helicopter and hops out, immediately striding away towards a couple of men who are waiting at the edge of the lawn to greet us.

Dee rolls her eyes at me and I shoot her a tight smile before we too step out of the helicopter and follow her father into the fray.

* * *

Sir Jeff Blackmore turns out to be a good guy.

He’s certainly very welcoming and surprisingly down to earth as he greets us all with a warm smile and a firm shake of the hand, saying, ‘Call me Jeff,’ before leading us through the manicured garden.

He stops to point out some of his favourite plants and shrubs, before ushering us into the mansion he calls home on this rugged but beautiful island.

The house has been built in the Cycladic style, like the places covering the island of Mykonos that I’ve seen multiple reels of on my social media channels recently.

It’s made up of cubic shapes with whitewashed walls and large wooden doors and window frames.

I guess it needs to stand strong against the fierce winds they get in this part of Europe, and this design lends itself well to that purpose.

Even though it’s still late winter, the sun is out here and it’s a temperate fifteen degrees centigrade. Warmer than in England anyway, that’s for sure.

There are some dark clouds looming in the distance, so I wonder whether there’s some rain on the way. Hopefully, it’ll pass us by and let us enjoy some sunshine while we’re here.