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Oh bloody hell. Why can't I at least getthisalbatross off my neck?
"Good day to you too, Ms. Weingartner," I say, attempting to sound pleasant when all I want to do is disconnect this call, chuck my mobile in the nearest rubbish bin, and find Maddie so I can kiss her senseless. "What can I do for you today?"
"Sir Dexter requests that you dine with him this evening at his home. Eight o'clock. I will text you the dress code."
"Dress code? Sorry, I already have plans. We'll need to reschedule for another time."
"You know how Sir Dexter feels about rejection." Ilsa doesn't sound like she's chastising me. She's simply stating a fact, and yes, I know exactly how Dexter responds to rejection. He suggests I get drunk, then he belts out bawdy sea shanties until my ears are ringing—and that's how he reacts over the phone. I don't care to find out how he handles rejection in person.
"May I ask what your plans are for this evening, Mr. Hunter?"
"Personal, not business."
"Bring your companion along. Sir Dexter won't mind, as long as only one extra person accompanies you."
How will Maddie feel about that? She might be excited about it, or she might get angry at me for agreeing to a business meeting. This is meant to be a work-free holiday, after all. "I need to discuss this with my, ah, friend. I'll ring you in half an hour with my answer."
Ilsa's voice drops to a whisper. "Please don't make me tell him that. Last time someone delayed accepting his invitation, he drank an entire bottle of cognac and danced nude on the veranda for an hour while reciting filthy limericks."
I do empathize with Ilsa. Her employer is a difficult man at best, though he's also very charming. And yes, Dexter has a filthy mind. No one who hasn't spoken to him would know that, certainly not from reading his books.
Maddie walks into the lobby. Noticing me, she smiles and waves.
"All right," I tell Ilsa while I wave at Maddie. "Let Dexter know we'll be there at eight."
"Thank you, Mr. Hunter. I appreciate your cooperation. The helicopter will pick you up at seven forty-five."
"Goodbye, Ilsa."
I hang up and walk toward Maddie while she walks toward me. We meet halfway, and I instinctively claim her hand. "Where are your bags?"
"A bellboy will bring them. I called the front desk to tell them I don't need the room anymore, but they'd already heard the news." She taps a finger on my chest. "From a British man with a sexy voice."
"I doubt the desk clerk described me that way. He can't be gay considering how much he enjoys staring at women's arses."
"Maybe I added the sexy-voice part." She leans sideways just enough to see my arse. "Well, if that desk clerk didn't ogle your tush, then he's one hundred percent straight. Anyone who likes men wouldn't be able to resist staring at your ass."
"Not sure if I should thank you for that compliment. I can't tell if itisa compliment."
"Of course it is." She pats my arse. "You, Richard, have got one fine behind. And I've seen all of it."
"I'm well-acquainted with your behind too, and it's perfection."
"You are so skilled at sucking up. It's impressive."
"Wait until you hear me talking to an author or a literary agent." I groan, because mentioning work reminds me of what I need to tell her. My shoulders sag. "I'm afraid our plans for the evening have been altered. I need to have dinner with a very difficult man so I can try to convince him to sign a contract with my company. His personal assistant just called to inform me that her employer commands me to dine with him at eight o'clock this evening."
Maddie's shoulders sag too. "Can't you say no? You're on vacation."
"This wasn't meant to be a holiday, not in the beginning. I came here to meet this particular author, but he's been…resistant to the idea." I lift her hand to kiss it. "You can come with me."
"To a business dinner? That doesn't sound like a lot of fun."
"Maybe you'll change your mind once I tell you who I'm meeting." I fold both my hands around hers. "Sir Dexter Armstrong-Hill."
Her eyes widen. "The recluse nobody's seen in decades? He's like the Howard Hughes of the publishing world, isn't he? Kind of nutty, super wealthy, and impossible to get hold of."
"That's all true, though I don't think Dexter is quite as bad as Howard Hughes was."
