t or whatever information kept flashing up on his phone really was more interesting than lunch with her.
Actually, that was probably it. Still, she had to try and keep his attention.
With a sigh, she put the piece of bread she’d just torn down on her side plate.
‘Look, I know what you mean—about the market changing, and all that.’ Dylan looked up as she started to speak. She’d caught him just as he forked another mouthful of lamb between his lips, so at least she knew he wouldn’t interrupt her for a moment or two. ‘But sometimes you have to stick with a plan for a while to see its full potential. You have to give it time to work.’
There was silence again for a moment while Dylan chewed. Then he said, ‘What if you don’t have that kind of time?’
And wasn’t that the nightmare scenario that kept her awake at night? But it was also why he was supposed to be here—to buy her the time she needed to make things work. He just had to give her that chance.
‘You know, just because you’re always chasing after the next big thing, that doesn’t mean it’s always the right thing to do.’ Frustration leaked out in her tone. ‘Jumping at every new trend or idea would just make us look unsteady and inconsistent. Some people like someone who can see things through—like Adem would have done with this plan. He’d have given it a chance to succeed, I know he would.’
Dylan winced at her words and Sadie realised that her comments could possibly be construed as more of a personal attack than a professional one. But it was too late to take them back now.
‘Okay, I admit Adem was always better at committing than I was,’ Dylan said. ‘To a plan, or anything else for that matter. But he always knew when changes needed to be made, too. That’s what made him such a good businessman.’
The most frustrating part was that he was probably right. In this one area Dylan had known Adem better than she could have—they’d worked together straight out of university, until Dylan had left to start his own business abroad, and Adem, newly married and planning a family, had declined to join him after a long talk with her. But until then they’d been the company’s dream team, working completely in sync. Dylan was the one person in the world who truly knew what Adem would have done in her situation, and that irritated her.
‘So what? You’re going to give me a list of changes for the Azure and just enough pocket money to do them, then disappear for six months and let me get on with it?’ she asked. ‘But what happens next? I bet I can guess. You come back and move the goalposts again—because the market’s changed or whatever—and give me a whole new list of changes.’ She shook her head. She wouldn’t do it. ‘I can’t work that way, Dylan. I can’t live that way either. It’s not fair to ask me to.’
‘I never would,’ Dylan shot back. His fork lay forgotten on his plate now, and the intensity in his gaze as he leant across the table was almost intimidating. ‘That’s not what I’m saying at all. All I mean is...let’s go through Adem’s plans together, see what needs tweaking or updating. I’m not throwing the baby out with the bathwater here, Sadie. I’m certain that Adem’s plans are solid—or were three years ago. But just because you’ve made one plan doesn’t mean you can’t adapt or improve it when a better idea comes along.’
‘Like switching from sea bass to lamb.’ He made it all sound so simple and sensible.
Dylan smiled, relief spreading out across his face. ‘Something like that.’
‘Okay. I’ll think about it.’ And that was all the commitment she planned to make to this man.
‘That’s all I ask.’
They finished eating in silence. Sadie settled up the bill and they were back out on the street before Dylan asked where they were going next.
‘The caravanserai,’ Sadie said, with a faint smile. ‘Another tourist site with a lot of history. I think you’ll like this one.’
‘I’m sure I will.’
The caravanserai, a fortified marketplace dating back to the seventeenth century, loomed up above them, its crenellations making it look more like a castle than a shopping centre.
‘So, what is this place?’ Dylan asked, squinting up at the tall walls.
‘These days, part marketplace, part hotel and entertainment venue.’ Sadie strolled through the marble arch, the splash of the fountains and the greenery surrounding the inner courtyard helping her relax, just like they always did. ‘But back in the day it was a protected place for merchants and such passing through the town—they could be sure they and their merchandise would be safe behind these walls.’
‘So I can see.’ Dylan placed a hand against the stone wall. ‘Solid.’
‘Come on. Come and look at some local wares.’
There were fewer goods on offer now that the caravanserai was mainly a hotel, but Sadie suspected Dylan would enjoy what there was. She gave him a quick tour of the ground floor, slipping through stone archways into shady stores hung with rugs and other fabrics. Once she was sure he had his bearings, she left him examining some beautifully painted bowls and pottery and escaped back out to the courtyard and the refreshing sound of the falling water from the white fountain in the centre.
She needed a moment to think, a moment alone, without Dylan’s presence scrambling her senses. She wasn’t sure if it was because she associated him so closely with Adem, or because it felt at once so strange and yet so natural to have him there in Turkey with her, but either way it confused her. She couldn’t think straight when he was smiling at her, talking apparent sense that only her personal knowledge of his history and her gut instinct could counter.
She settled down to sit on the edge of the fountain, letting the coolness of the marble sooth her palms, and circled her neck a few times to try and relieve the tension that had spread there over lunch.
Of course, it was possible she’d only grown so defensive with him because he’d been criticising Adem’s plan—because it had felt like betraying the man himself, even if she knew intellectually Adem would never have seen it that way. But Adem’s plan was the only thing she had left to tell her what her husband would have wanted for her, for their son, and for their dream hotel.
In the absence of anything else she’d clung to it like a life raft. Except it hadn’t worked—and she had to face the fact that, whatever Dylan said, that failure was more on her than the plan. She had no doubt that if Adem had been there, with all his charm and enthusiasm, he’d have made it work—and they’d never have been in the position of having to beg Dylan Jacobs for help at all.
If they needed a new plan, then she needed help. She hadn’t trained for this, hadn’t ever planned to take it on. She could run her spa business with military precision and a profit every quarter—she knew what it needed and what worked. But a whole hotel? She was lost. And she was going to have to confess that to Dylan—not a conversation she relished.
But if she couldn’t trust herself to come up with a plan to save the Azure, could she really trust Dylan? Wasn’t he just another short-term sticking plaster? Oh, he meant well, she was sure enough of that. But he didn’t see things through. Everyone knew that. Why would the Azure be any different for him?
Suddenly, a shadow appeared on the stone floor in front of her—dark and lengthening in the afternoon sun. Sadie looked up to see Dylan standing over her, a contrite expression on his face and a paper-wrapped parcel in his hands.
‘For you,’ he said, handing her the package.
‘Why?’ she asked, unwrapping the paper. ‘I mean, thank you. But you shouldn’t have.’ The wrapping fell aside to reveal a beautiful silk scarf—one from the rack she’d shown him inside, but not one she’d ever have looked at for herself. Not because she didn’t love it, or because it wouldn’t suit her. The bright, vibrant colours were exactly the sort that her sister Rachel was always telling her she should wear, but she rarely did these days.
It was too bright, too bold f
or her. But, holding it, she wished more than anything she still had the guts to wear it.
‘It’s just a token,’ Dylan said. ‘An apology, I guess.’
Sadie shook her head, wrapping the scarf back up loosely in its paper. ‘You don’t have to apologise to me.’
‘I feel like I do. I didn’t mean to offend you, at lunch I mean.’ He sighed and sat down beside her at the fountain. In an instant all the cool serenity Sadie usually found there vanished. ‘You know I’d never badmouth Adem—you do know that, right? I know it’s not the same as for you but...you know what he meant to me too.’
‘I do.’ Guilt trickled down inside her chest. Dylan and Adem had been best friends before she’d even met them. Miles might have separated them, but she knew Adem had stayed in close contact with both Neal and Dylan until the day he’d died. She didn’t hold the monopoly on grief over his death.
‘I’m not just doing this for him, though—helping you, I mean.’ Dylan twisted to look her straight in the eye, and Sadie found it strangely difficult to look away. What was it about this man that was so captivating, so compelling? ‘But you have to know I wouldn’t give up on this—not on something that was so important to my best friend.’
‘I know that,’ Sadie said, but she knew it lacked the conviction of her previous agreement.
Yes, Dylan would want to do this for Adem. But she also knew that all he could really offer was a short-term solution at best. The money would keep them afloat, give them another chance, and his thoughts on the plans for the future of the hotel would be invaluable, she was sure. But it was going to take more than that to save the Azure. She needed to find a way to do that herself, once Dylan’s money had been spent and the man himself had moved on. She couldn’t rely on him to be there for anything more than cash and brief excitement at the start of a new project.
With a sigh Dylan reached across and took the scarf from her lap, unwrapping the paper again. Then, gently, he placed it around her throat, knotting it loosely at the front. The soft silk felt luxurious against her skin, and she couldn’t help but smile at the bright pop of colours around her neck. Then she raised her chin, and her gaze crashed into his, heating her cheeks until she was sure she was bright pink. His fingers straightened the fabric of the scarf, brushing against her throat, and her skin tingled under his touch.