Sadie sank to sit on her bed, her hands clutching at the fabric of the dress. Business. She had to focus on that. This was her last and only chance—she couldn’t afford to think of Dylan as Adem’s twenty-two-year-old university buddy, or the best man who’d brought Adem home from his stag night with an almighty hangover, a blow-up sheep and no recollection of where they’d spent the last two days. Dylan wasn’t that person any more.
She swallowed, blinking away sudden tears of guilt and loss at the memory of her husband. Because that was the problem. She wasn’t thinking of that Dylan at all. Instead, she couldn’t help remembering another one, sitting up too late in a bar after someone else’s wedding, talking too much and too deeply.
Despite herself, she couldn’t help remembering the man who had once asked her if she’d ever imagined what might have happened if he’d met her first, instead of Adem.
Rushing to her feet, too fast, Sadie shook off the memory with the resulting light-headedness. She loved her husband—now, then and always. And she planned to preserve his memory for their son by saving the hotel. Business, that’s all any of it was for her now. And she was sure that was all it was for Dylan too.
She knew business now, and she needed to show Dylan that—needed him to see that she wasn’t the same girl she had been then either. She’d grown up, learned and changed. She could save the Azure all by herself—she just needed his money.
Nodding to herself, Sadie pulled on her black dress and added her work jacket and heels. A business-casual compromise, she decided. It was perfect.
* * *
Heading down to the bar, Sadie was pleased to realise she’d beaten Dylan there, despite her clothing dilemma delay. After a moment’s thought she ordered them both a glass of a local white wine—showcasing the specialties of the region had to be a good way to convince Dylan that Kusadasi was worth his time and interest. Following her theme, she also asked the bartender to check in with the chef on the menu. He returned in short order, carrying both wine and a daily menu. Sadie scanned it quickly and told him to instruct the chef to serve them both the best local food on offer, once they made it through to the restaurant.
She settled back onto her bar stool and took a sip of her wine, feeling in control for the first time that day. Dylan may have caught her off balance when he’d arrived, but it took more than that to rattle Sadie Sullivan. She had everything in hand now—and it was the upper one.
Then he appeared in the doorway, looking far too good in his navy suit and open-collared shirt, and she struggled to swallow her wine without spluttering. Dylan, Sadie was sure, hadn’t bothered agonising over what to wear at all. He’d just thrown on what he liked and looked...perfect in it.
It was strange; she didn’t remember him being quite so attractive. Oh, he’d always been good looking, but it had been in a single-guy-about-town, flirt-with-the-girls-and-take-them-home way. Whereas Adem had always been more steady, less striking—but so gorgeous when he’d smiled at her. It had felt like he’d saved all his best looks just for her, and she’d loved that.
But now Dylan looked more grown up, more reliable, like he’d grown into his looks and out of his bad habits. Sadie shook her head lightly—it was an illusion. She knew from Neal’s more recent stories that Dylan was just as much of a playboy as ever.
‘You look beautiful.’ Reaching her stool, Dylan bent to kiss her cheek, and Sadie ignored the thrill it sent down her spine.
‘And you’re just as much of a flirt as ever,’ she chastised him, earning the reward of a positively rakish grin that made it hard not to laugh. ‘Have a seat,’ she said, waving at the stool next to her. ‘Drink wine.’
He did as he was told for once, fishing his smartphone from his pocket and placing it on the bar before he reached for his glass.
‘This is good,’ Dylan said, after the first mouthful. ‘Local?’
She nodded. ‘Everything you’re going to taste tonight is from the area. Just another host of reasons why you want to be investing in Kusadasi and the Azure.’
‘Down to business so soon?’ His smile was a little lopsided this time, like he knew something she didn’t, but since he was already swiping a finger across his phone screen to check his emails Sadie didn’t think he should complain about talking business in a bar.
‘Isn’t that what you’re here for?’ Best to be blunt, she decided. History aside, this was a business dinner—for both of them.
‘Of course.’ Dylan leant against the wooden back of the bar stool, his arms folded behind his head. ‘Go on, then. I’m ready to be convinced.’
‘About the food?’ Sadie asked, suddenly thrown off balance. Surely he didn’t expect her to convince him to invest a ridiculous amount of money based purely on one sip of wine and the promise of dinner?
‘About this hotel. You’re right, this is a business trip. As much as I’d personally be happy to hand over whatever money you need, I have shareholders and board members who might not be so keen. So I need you to convince me that the Azure is a sound investment before I can agree to come on board.’ His tone was perfectly matter-of-fact, even as he admitted he’d give her a pity save if he could. A very small part of Sadie wished it was that easy.
But no. This was exactly what she’d wanted—no pity save, no charity for the poor widow. Business.
She just hadn’t expected him to agree so fast—or for it to be a requirement for him too.
But she could do this. She could show him. She had a plan—Adem’s plan for the Azure—and she intended to follow it to the letter. All she needed to do was convince Dylan it was a good plan.
‘Right, then,’ she said, briskly. ‘Where do you want to start?’
CHAPTER THREE
THE MOMENT THEY were settled at their table—obviously the best seat in the house—Sadie launched into what had to be a rehearsed sales pitch. Dylan tried to pay attention as she listed the details of room numbers and styles, amenities and so on, but in truth very little of it went in. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her—and apparently he’d lost the ability to stare and listen at the same time.
Sadie was beautiful as ever, he’d known that since he arrived at the Azure. Before, even. Sadie was Sadie, and her beauty was an intrinsic part of her—and had very little to do with what she actually looked like at all. But now, soaking her in over the candlelit table, he had a chance to catalogue the changes. She was more fragile now, he decided, more closed off. Somehow more off limits than she’d ever been, even after she’d married Adem. Now she was The Widow, and he couldn’t seem to help but let those two words—and the tragedy they encompassed—define her in his mind.
Her spark seemed dimmed, and it hurt him to see it. Maybe this week could be useful in more than one way. He’d help her with her hotel, of course. But how could he not try to bring that spark back too? To make sure she was really okay here, alone with a crumbling hotel, a small boy and her memories.
Just as a friend. Obviously. Because there was no way she’d let him close enough for anything else now, if she never had before. Besides, given the position she was in, he wouldn’t risk it. Not if it would just make things worse for her. All he had to offer was the money she needed and business support maybe. Then he would be on his way. He wasn’t Adem and he never had been.
Dylan knew himself too well—at least as well as Neal, Adem and Sadie always had. He was too like his father to ever settle to one life, one set of possibilities—not when the next big thing could be just past the horizon. So this was temporary, and that was fine with him.
It just meant he only had one week to find the promise in the Azure Hotel and come up with a plan to make it good. He needed to get started on that, pronto. Priorities, Dylan.
Their starters arrived without him ever seeing a menu, but as he examined the seafood platter he decided he didn’t mind at all. If all else failed, at le
ast he could honestly say the food and drink at the Azure were good. It was a start.
‘Did Adem make you memorise all that?’ he asked, as Sadie reached the end of her spiel and reached for a calamari ring.
‘No,’ she said. ‘Well, just some of it.’
‘But it’s all his plan, right?’ He’d known Adem since they’d been eighteen. He’d recognised his friend’s touch before Sadie had reached the second bullet point.
‘How can you possibly...? We worked on it together. Of course.’
‘Of course. But this was his dream.’ He followed her lead with the calamari, hoping it tasted as good as it looked. One piece of rubbery calamari could ruin a whole meal. But, no, it had the perfect mixture of crunch in the batter and melting seafood. He reached for another.
‘His heritage.’ She shrugged, her shoulders slim and delicate now she’d taken her jacket off, and more tanned than he remembered. ‘He wanted a future here for our family.’
Family. Stop thinking about her shoulders, Jacobs, and focus on what really matters to her. ‘Where is Finn, anyway?’
A shadow crossed her face, and he almost regretted asking. ‘He’s staying with my parents for the week. I’m flying over to England to collect him after you leave.’
‘Because I was going to be here?’ That stung. He may not have seen much of the boy since he’d been born, but that didn’t make him any less of an honorary uncle.
Sadie gave him a look—the sort she used to give him in the pub when they’d been twenty-two and he’d been acting like an idiot. ‘To be honest, I didn’t know you were the one coming, which I think you must have guessed. Besides, that wasn’t it. He’s due to start school next year, and my parents wanted to spend some time with him outside the holidays before then.’
There was something else, hiding behind the lightness of her tone, but he couldn’t put his finger on it, and it was still too early to press too hard for information—frustrating as that was. He had to have patience. Eventually she’d open up to him again.