Yeah, nothing like the Azure at all.
They were led through to the elevators by one of the several concierges, then up to the restaurant on the top floor. Their table, Sadie was hardly even surprised to note at this point, was right by the window, looking out over the town of Kusadasi and the ocean beyond.
She wondered if she could see the Azure from there...
‘So, what do you think?’ Dylan asked, after the waiter had taken their wine order and left them to peruse the menu.
Sadie shook her head. ‘The Azure is nothing like this.’ And, quite honestly, she wouldn’t want it to be. Yes, the Paradise Grand was impressive, and luxurious—but it wasn’t her dream. Or Adem’s.
‘That’s because this place is brand-new,’ Dylan said. ‘Shiny as the day it came out of the box. That’s what some customers want.’
‘But not all.’
‘No, not all.’ He leant back in his seat, looking out over the admittedly glorious view. ‘But before you decide what your customers want, you need to know what you want. If it isn’t this, fine. But what is it? What do you want the Azure to be? What makes it special to you? What’s the big dream?’
Wasn’t that the million Turkish lire question? The one she knew she should know the answer to already.
But she didn’t. Because it had always been Adem’s dream, not hers. She’d gone along with it, listened, been supportive, helped where she could...but she couldn’t say what the goal was or the vision, because he’d held all that in his head. All she had were the plans he’d left behind and they’d already established that they weren’t enough.
‘Adem wanted...’ she started, but Dylan shook his head.
‘I’m not interested in what Adem wanted for the place. If you truly want to save it, to give it a new future against competition like this, it has to be your dream. Not his.’
Sadie stared at him, knowing he was right but still not knowing the answers.
How could she admit to him that her commitment to the Azure had more to do with memories of the past than the future?
* * *
Watching her, sitting across the table in that beautiful dress, her shoulders bare and her skin golden in the candlelight, Dylan wished heartily that this could be what it must look like to outsiders—a romantic meal for two. But he was in Turkey to do a job—to help her. And he couldn’t let his personal wants get in the way of her very urgent business needs.
Not yet, anyway.
Still, seeing her struggle to answer what should have been the first question he’d asked on arrival, he wished more than anything that wasn’t the case.
‘I... I don’t know,’ Sadie finally admitted, the frustration in her expression showing him exactly how much those words had cost her.
‘Okay. Try this,’ he said. ‘Imagine yourself at the Azure in five years’ time. How does it look? What’s its best features?’
‘Five years...’ Sadie’s eyelids fluttered closed as she considered. ‘Finn would be ten.’
Finn. He’d asked her to think about the business, and she’d instantly thought of her son. Dylan frowned. What was he missing here?
‘Sadie,’ he said, and her eyes flew open again. His gaze locked onto hers, and he knew this was his best chance to get at the truth. ‘Tell me honestly. Why do you want to save the Azure?’
‘For Finn,’ she said, the words coming so quickly he knew she hadn’t had to think about them at all. ‘Because it’s the only thing left of his father that I can give him. It’s Adem’s legacy.’
A noble reason, but Dylan knew it wouldn’t be enough. She had to want it for herself, too. ‘What about you?’
‘I... I love the spa. That was always my place, my dream. But the hotel...it was all Adem.’ He’d suspected as much, but from the relief that shone out of Sadie’s face he had a feeling this was the first time she’d admitted to herself that, in truth, she didn’t really want to be there. ‘To be honest, without him there, some days it’s hard to remember why I stay at all.’
‘Sadie...’ Dylan’s heart clenched at the loss and confusion in her voice. No wonder the place was crumbling all around her. A project as big as the Azure needed love, not just obligation. It needed passion, not just vague enthusiasm. It needed what Adem had felt for it, and Sadie obviously didn’t.
‘I shouldn’t have said that.’ Sadie shook her head, as if she could wipe away the words with the movement. The waiter arrived with their wine, and she took a large gulp the moment he’d tasted it and it had been poured.
‘Are you ready to—?’ the waiter started.
‘Another few minutes, please.’ Neither of them had so much as looked at the menu yet. Besides, he wasn’t going to let Sadie use ordering food as an excuse to drop this line of conversation. Not when there was so much more to say.
As the waiter backed unobtrusively away, Dylan fixed Sadie with a determined look. ‘You were saying?’
She took a deep breath before answering. He wondered if that was a sign that what was coming was a lie. He wasn’t used to Sadie lying—or perhaps he’d just never noticed her lies before.
‘The Azure is a wonderful hotel,’ she said. ‘It has huge potential, plenty of history and an awful lot going for it businesswise. But more than that, it’s our future—mine and Finn’s, I mean. It’s my son’s inheritance. And I’m committed to saving it.’
‘Even though it’s not your dream?’ She didn’t understand. Sometimes commitment wasn’t enough. Sometimes commitment made people miserable, made them yell and scream and cry—until they just gave up on it and walked away, like his father had done.
He really didn’t want to see that happen to Sadie.
‘Only little girls believe that dreams will come true.’ There was a scathing note in Sadie’s voice, but Dylan ignored it. Because he knew different.
Sadie had believed in dreams once. He’d seen it in her eyes the day she’d shown him her engagement ring for the first time, and again on her wedding day. The first time she’d held out her baby son to meet him. She’d believed in happily ever after, in possibilities and greatness, even if she’d wanted them all with another man.
Finally, he’d found something about new Sadie he didn’t like as much as old Sadie.
He sighed. How to make her understand? ‘Look. I could give you all the money your current business plan calls for. I could help you come up with a new plan and fund that instead. I could bulldoze the Azure and rebuild it from the ground up, if you decided that was what you wanted. But none of it will make a bit of difference if you don’t want it enough.’
‘I just told you I—’
‘Commitment and obligation aren’t enough,’ he interrupted her. ‘You’re not a multinational conglomerate, and you’re not trying to build a heartless, soulless place like the Paradise Grand. The Azure is about charm, heart and home—those are its selling points. The personal touch. And if it’s not home to you, if you don’t love it...’ He shook his head.
‘So you’re saying you won’t help me.’ Sadie straightened her cutlery beside her napkin and avoided his gaze.
‘I’m not saying that,’ he said. ‘But I want you to really think about what it is you want, whether the Azure truly is your home, before we go any further with this.’
It was a risk—both personally and professionally. He was testing her commitments to the past and, knowing how she’d felt about Adem, it was entirely possible she was going to send him packing. So, yeah, big risk.
But he knew it was also the right thing to do. The only thing.
As the tension stretched between them he reached for his menu and opened it.
‘Come on, let’s order. That very discreet and professional waiter over there has been hovering for at least the last ten minutes.’
Sadie nodded, and turned to the first page of her
own menu, but he wasn’t sure she was actually reading it at all. Instead, she looked completely lost in thought.
Dylan just hoped that they were good thoughts.
* * *
Sadie ate her meal in silence and, for once, Dylan seemed content to let her. Maybe he knew she had too much to think about to make conversation at the same time. Or maybe he was just preoccupied with whatever message had flashed up on his phone. Either way, he didn’t seem particularly interested in her.
So much for her thoughts that tonight might be more than just business. She really should have known better.
The worst part was admitting that, for a moment, she’d hoped it could be something more. That maybe, just maybe, this might be a chance for her to start moving on. To follow Rachel’s advice and get back out there. A totally out of character, one-night stand to reboot her chances at romance. Just this once.
Dylan was the king of short-term flings. If she wanted something short and sweet to kick-start her new life, he’d be perfect. As long as they could be upfront about what it was and wasn’t, and could keep it separate from business.
But it seemed that nothing trumped business for Dylan.
As she finished up her last mouthful of dessert—which was, she had to admit, delicious—Sadie pushed the plate aside and prepared to call time on an altogether depressing evening. Not only had she completely misread Dylan’s intentions, the more time she spent at the Paradise Grand, the more convinced she became that the Azure could never be anything like this.