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“Dad,” I whined. I was depending on my brothers to fly me to Darwin airport in our Embraer Phenom 300 plane, and from there, I would catch a commercial aircraft to Sydney.
"Boys, Liz will be going tomorrow whether you two like it or not. You've had your time out in the world; now it's her turn. If you don't take her, Jake and I will."
“But Dad, what if she decides not to come back?” Lucas argued.
Dad turned and studied my face. “She will. Liz is a girl of the land. Harmony is where her heart lives. She’ll be back.”
I wasn’t so sure. I loved the station, but I wanted somewhere more exciting where I could shop, dine out, and go to the movies without having to hop on a plane or helicopter.
Chapter Two
HUDSON
Sydney, Australia
One week earlier.
“Get those figures on my desk by three this afternoon, Owen, or I’ll sack the entire data entry division.” I slammed the phone down hard enough that it was a wonder the cradle didn’t shatter.
“Hudson?” my assistant, Petra, asked somewhat cautiously.
Pushing to my feet, I dragged the fingers of one hand through my short blond hair as I paced back and forth behind the large oak desk that had been gifted to me by my father. Alistair Jackson, my father, and the founder of Jackson Enterprises, a multi-billion-dollar electronics empire of which I was CEO, had been in my family for five decades. On days like this, the company I usually loved was a pain in my arse.
“Go downstairs and don’t leave Owen’s side until he has those numbers.”
“Will do.” Petra tilted her head and studied my face.
“What?”
“You’re going to give yourself a heart attack if you keep going at this pace.”
Petra, a woman in her late forties whom I’d inherited from my father—thanks Dad, knew almost as much as I did about the business. Fuck knew how I would manage without her by my side. She was efficient, intelligent, and seemed to know what I needed before I did and didn’t hesitate to call me on my bullshit. Why the hell she was still single I had no idea. When I’d asked her the question a few years earlier, she’d answered that men didn’t seem interested in intelligent women with high-paying positions. My response? What the hell was wrong with the men she was meeting?
My assistant was tall and slender, with blonde hair she had regularly treated, so no grey hairs were visible, huge blue eyes, and petite features. She wasn’t stunning but with skin free of blemishes and wrinkles, she was very pretty. The lady was like a second mother to me, and since my parents had retired to the sunny warmth of North Queensland, she had filled a void in my life.
Being the only son, I was close to Mum and Dad, and when my father announced his retirement and elevated me, as his heir, to the position of CEO, I was determined not to let him down. In the four years I’d been in charge I’d taken the company to new heights by branching into electronic kitchen gadgets, and it was more successful than ever.
Magazines clambered for pictures and interviews, stating people were interested in knowing the ‘richest and most eligible bachelor in Australia,’ but I wasn’t interested and always refused. I was generous with charities, particularly if they involved animals or children, but never attended galas or balls, instead sending a senior executive in my place. I was well aware I was somewhat reclusive; maybe to some appeared rude, but I preferred not to be in the spotlight.
Sandra, the head of my publicity, marketing, and advertising division constantly argued that lies would be printed if I didn’t give them what they wanted. Of course, I argued back they would print lies anyway and they already had hundreds of photos taken without my permission.
Returning to Petra—I loved the lady, but she drove me crazy about finding someone special. I was thirty-six years old, so I had plenty of time before I considered tying myself down with a wife and kids. When I turned sixty was looking good at this point. Don’t get me wrong, I was a long way from falling into the category of a playboy but enjoyed a regular sexual encounter with no strings attached. I was an expert at picking ladies who would want more than I was prepared to give and avoiding them. I was also careful about discretion and always used a false name. The lack of advertising around me personally meant most of the ladies had no clue who I actually was, and I never took them to my mansion in Elizabeth Bay. If we couldn’t screw at their place, I chose a mid-price hotel so as not to arouse suspicion about my wealth. They were never more than a one-night stand, and if they couldn’t handle that fact when we met, I put them in a cab and said goodnight.
“Hudson, can we talk?” Bill, the head of research and development for the kitchen division stood in the doorway and I hoped to fuck he didn’t have a problem to add to my already fucked-up day.
“Sure.” I waved my hand, indicating for him to approach.
Bill strode in and took the seat on the opposite side of my desk.
“Problem?”
“No, far from one. I wanted to let you know the attachment for the newJuice Magicianwe’ve been trialling works exactly as we wanted. We have tested and retested it and are confident in its performance. It’s ready to hit the market.”
“Finally, some good news. Email me the paperwork and I’ll get it signed off. Speak with Sandra in marketing to get the ball rolling on an advertising campaign.”
As Bill left my office, Owen appeared in the doorway, papers in his hand. I waved him inside.
“Close the door, Owen.” This was a conversation I didn’t want anyone else to hear.
