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“No, stay and finish your coffee. I’m making one for myself. Do you want a top-up?”
Hesitating, she replied, “Yes, thanks, if you’re sure.”
Jason moved over to the kitchen counter, filled the tank with water, and added fresh coffee. The machine chugged into action; the strong aroma of coffee refilled the room and he savoured the smell again. He sat down at the kitchen table while he waited.
“Can I make you some breakfast?” Mrs. Meadows asked. “I must say, you look like you had a tough night. Your eyes are quite swollen. Is everything okay?”
“Nothing I can’t handle, but thanks for your concern.” He thought about it for a moment, and then added, “Well, I hope I can handle it. We’ll find out soon enough.”
“Well, in times of strife, my old mother used to say eggs on toast and tea sorts most of life’s dilemmas out. Would you care for some? I can soon whip up some scrambled eggs, put some food back in your stomach after the drink.”
She must have caught a whiff as he’d passed her. He hadn’t cleaned his teeth yet.
“Ah, still obvious, is it? Better have some eggs, then, but I’ll stick to coffee. I did have some fish and chips last night, though I didn’t eat much of it, to be fair.”
“Well, you stay sat down and I’ll make some breakfast for you. And you can reheat that chicken casserole for your dinner tonight. Can’t waste it. It will be quite alright.” Her gentle old hand brushed his shoulder as she got to work. She busied herself gathering eggs and cracking them into a bowl, then put two slices of bread in the toaster.
Jason smiled at her motherly dominance. Sometimes, she was just what he needed in his life. At 35 years old and still single, he welcomed her female influence in his life but as a self-proclaimed workaholic, there was little time for a full-on female relationship. Mrs. Meadows was his saviour. He opened the newspaper she had been reading and scanned the headlines, though it was pretty much the same each day. He didn’t know why he bothered with it anymore anyway; the up-to-date news was online as he’d said to Jordan last night. Still, kids needed a job to get started with and if no one bought papers, none would need delivering.
Five minutes later, she placed a plate of steaming scrambled eggs on hot buttered toast in front of him and he tucked in, surprised at how hungry he was. Even though his head was filled with worry, he felt a little better once he’d had his fill.
“Thanks for that. Your old mum is right. I feel better already.”
“Imagine if you’d had the tea as well!” She winked at him and he got the message.
“Right. I’d better go and get dressed and get going. Problems won’t solve themselves sat here,” he said, and he smiled at her wise face as he left the room to finish dressing.
An hour later, and he was hard at work, a packed schedule keeping his mind on other things which was probably a good thing. He spent the rest of the day visiting clients, a part of his role he so enjoyed and didn’t really class as work he loved it so much. By 4.30 pm, he was headed back to the office when his phone rang. It was his assistant, Jo Jo.
“Jason! Are you nearly back yet? Whereabouts are you?”
“Ten minutes out. Why? What’s up?”
“In that case if you’re nearly back, I’ll wait and we can talk properly rather than while you’re driving.”
“Come on, Jo Jo. What is it?”
“No, get back here and we’ll talk. See you in ten.” She hung up.
That had Jason worried; Jo Jo had never hung up on him before, obviously didn’t want to be squeezed for the news. That could only mean one thing. Jason’s stomach dropped as anxiety enveloped him. When something bad happened at the end of the day, it was usually planned that way, leaving no time for those affected to do anything about it. And since today was Friday, it made it all the worse: he’d have to wait for the weekend to pass before doing anything about it. It was a mean move, and one that he’d experienced before. He pulled into his parking space, gathered his briefcase and entered the building. Jo Jo was there to greet him, and she wasn’t looking happy.
“What’s he gone and done now? How bad is it?”
She had no choice but to tell him, though she knew he’d be devastated at the news.
“He’s sold the main licence, leaving us and the others without any way to operate using his product. Liberty-Lite is now owned by Liberty Invest with no plans to let anyone have access to it. It’s over.”
Jason stopped moving while he digested what she had said. Jo Jo handed him the brief document she had received that afternoon, and he read it.
“The spiteful bastard!” Jason screamed at the sky. “You’ll not get away with this!”
Jo Jo stepped back fearfully, aware that heads were turning to see what the commotion was about. When Jason had finally stopped yelling, he turned on his heels and stormed from the building, with no clear idea of where he was going. Or what he was going to do.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“Welcome aboard, Mr. Stevens,” the hostess cooed, fluttering her eyelashes just enough to be flirty without being overly obvious with it.
Lowering his eyes to read her name badge, which was pinned conveniently over her pert left breast, he smiled warmly and replied, “Good morning, Amber. Nice to meet you,” he said, and gave her the once over in a little more detail. Solely for his own pleasure. He was used to women flirting with him, but that wasn’t the way he liked it. Not his game; too easy. No, Amber might be a good-looking woman and happy to flirt, but it was the tall dark-haired classy looking woman that stood just behind her that piqued his interest. It seemed she was not impressed with his devilish good looks and charm, nor the wealth that allowed him to travel first class. He glanced her way again to see if she’d meet his blue eyes but she didn’t. Sebastian smiled to himself. This flight was going to be such fun, and by the end of the thirteen-hour trip, she’d comply. No one ignored Sebastian Stevens. He was aware Amber was talking to him.
“I’m sorry, Amber,” he said, and smiled sweetly. “I was miles away.”
“That’s okay, Mr. Stevens. I was asking if you’d like a glass of champagne brought to your seat?”
“Perfect. Why not? I’m not on the clock today, or in fact for the next few days.”
Amber chimed in again not wanting to miss the opportunity. “Off on holiday?” she enquired.
“Yes, hunting. I won the bid on a couple of white rhino that were up for auction. Hope to get them for my trophy room back home.”
Amber’s pretty little perfectly made-up face dropped suddenly in alarm though she had the sense not to show her feelings any further. Still, he was the best-looking man on the plane and his hobby wasn’t going to stop her having her own fun. She realigned her smile and followed up with, “Enjoy your holiday, Mr. Stevens,” then turned and made eye contact with the gentleman behind Sebastian, greeting him warmly.
If Sebastian had noticed her slight recoil, he didn’t show it, wouldn’t have been bothered anyway. He headed off to his seat. It was the dark-haired hostess that brought him his champagne a few moments later, placing the tall-stemmed flute on his side table with a small bowl of nuts to accompany it. Though Sebastian smiled in thanks, she still hadn’t said a word to him other than ‘Thank you.’ Her name badge informed him she was Valerie, and when she’d left, he silently played with the sound of her name on his tongue. “Va-le-rie, Va-le-rie,” he murmured, rolling the ‘rie’ as he did so. He liked the feel of it.
Chapter Thirty-Six
As his flight touched down in Bulawayo, Sebastian mused to himself that Amber certainly had the hots for him, catching his eye occasionally and doing her best to appear submissive by the way she lowered her eyes at him, and had all but slipped him her number during the flight. Oh, those fluttering eyelashes. It seemed she wasn’t that upset with his hobby after all. The thought amused him somewhat. While he wasn’t interested in her particularly, he might just make an exception to his own rule and give in to her chase; she had earned it. While not his usual style, th
ere wouldn’t be any chance of much woman fun where he was going, and any females in the vicinity certainly wouldn’t look like Amber did. When the seatbelt signs were finally turned off, he got up to stretch his tall frame. Even travelling in first class had its limitations but he’d never felt the desire for his own jet, an extravagance he didn’t want or need. As the other passengers in his cabin filed off quietly, glad to be at their destination, he hung back a little, pretending to be looking for something in his carry-on bag. And that’s when Amber made her last-ditch attempt at Sebastian.
“I’m staying in town if you’re not busy tonight and fancy a drink after your long flight,” she whispered to his shoulder, pretending she wasn’t actually talking to him.
He smiled down at her, showing well-kept white teeth and an interest.
“I have a transfer waiting, unfortunately. How about sometime a bit sooner?” Now it was his turn to be direct. Two could play at that game.
It wasn’t quite the response she’d expected from him and took a second or two to decide. “Meet me right outside the main entrance when you’ve gone through customs. I’ll be waiting.” Then she slipped away to her station and the other passengers.
“Little minx,” he thought, smiling, “but what the hell.”
The terminal wasn’t much more than a single tin-roofed building with a landing strip in front of it, but there were armed police and security personnel scattered at regular intervals. They all appeared to be young men in oversized uniforms, but still, he wouldn’t want to upset one. After a quick passage through passport control and customs, he dropped his bags with his waiting guide and transport, putting them both on hold until he was ready to leave. He’d see their tip was worth the wait. He then made his exit to meet up with Amber. She was stood with her back to him as he approached and he bent down to her right ear with two words. “Where to?”
She turned, smiled flirtatiously, and beckoned him to follow her to a waiting taxi. They both got in, and Amber gave the driver directions to a hotel nearby. They settled back to relax, both knowing why they were going to her hotel room and what was coming next. To be fair, Amber didn’t really know what was coming to her, though she’d remember her mistake that day for the rest of her life.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
While his little rendezvous with the hostess had been a pleasant one, for him anyway, it had put him behind schedule somewhat and he half wished he hadn’t bothered. Still, it was done now and he was finally nearly at his destination. The trip from the airport had been long and tiring—three hours of rough roads and checkpoints with little comfort to rest in properly. But this was Zimbabwe, not Manchester, and luxury first-class travel didn’t run all the way through.
As they drove the last few metres towards the lodge complex, he recognised the ten-foot-tall fence running alongside the property, keeping the animals safe from poachers and contained for hunters. There was a certain irony in that, he thought: both sides wanted something from the animals, except one side wanted it for free. Either way, the animal died and by hunting it legitimately, he felt he was doing his bit for the local economy, as well as for sheer enjoyment. The van pulled up outside and he stepped down into the dirt and stretched. It had been a long journey and he was ready for a shower, dinner and bed.
“Welcome, Mr. Stevens, welcome!” the burly lodge manager called out. He jogged over and greeted Sebastian warmly. They shook hands like old friends.
“Good to see you again, Farai. How have you been keeping?’
“Good, good, Mr. Stevens. We thought perhaps you had got lost!” Farai laughed as if it was the funniest thing he’d heard in a while, throwing his head back dramatically, and Sebastian laughed along with him. His driver would have notified Farai that Sebastian had gone off on a digression, of course, but Farai was enjoying himself. They all knew him so well.
“I never get lost, and I never miss an opportunity when it arises,” he said. “And an opportunity arose!”
He threw his head back to match his friend’s exuberance. Farai continued to laugh with his guest as he summoned a young man to help to take his luggage for him. “You’re in your usual chalet, and I will have a nice cold drink brought over to you shortly. Dinner will be served in approximately one hour.” He handed Sebastian his key. “He will take your luggage for you,” he said, pointing to the young man. “See you shortly. And try not to be late!”
Sebastian could hear him laughing loudly to himself as he followed the young man, though he did indeed know where he was going. This had been ‘his chalet’ for the past few years.
Forty-five minutes later, Sebastian walked into the small bar area of the dining room and ordered himself a large whiskey. He took a long slug of it, put his glass down on the bar with a resounding ‘Ahhhh,’ and turned to see who else was there. Being somewhat of a regular, he knew a few of the others even though they didn’t keep in touch in between hunting expeditions. Still, it was always good to see a familiar face, and, spying one now, he took the glass back in hand and walked over to a man he recognised from a couple of years ago. As he got closer, he wracked his brain for the man’s name, and held his hand out to shake.
Recognition dawned on the man’s face instantly, and he smiled back furiously shaking Sebastian’s outstretched hand.
“Robert, isn’t it, if I remember correctly?”
“You have a good memory, my friend!” he said in a heavy Texan accent. “Yes, Robert Johns. But your memory is far better than mine, though I know we’ve spoken before.” If the older man was embarrassed for not remembering Sebastian’s name, he didn’t show it.
“Sebastian, Sebastian Stevens,” he said, filling him in. “We met here back in 2013, I recall. You wanted buffalo. Was it your lucky year, or are you back to try again?”
The older man threw his head back and laughed heartily. “No, it was a lucky year that one, and I’ve been back a couple of times since, though not for another buffalo. Too damn dangerous for me! And I’m taking things a bit easier these days. Getting old. You?”
“Well, I’m in for a slower day tomorrow first off, just playing on the plains, I think, but the following day, I’m up in the chopper. Bought myself a couple of white rhino at auction so I’ll try my hand at that. If you feel like coming along, I’m sure there will be room.”
“Sure. Are the animals tagged for tracking, do you know, or you just going to fly around and make a noise?”
“They’ll be tagged. I want to make sure I get them—I paid enough for them. I’ll probably ship them back home.” Sebastian sipped on his whiskey as he watched the man decide, his tanned and deeply wrinkled face showing his decision.
“Sounds like fun. I’d love to tag along.” Realising the pun, he threw his grey-haired head back again and laughed a deep Texan laugh at his own joke.
Just then, dinner was called and they both followed the handful of other guests to the dining room. Sebastian and Robert seated themselves side by side.
“Sure does smell good!” Robert said to one of the waiters, who was busy setting out trays of food on a big wooden table. It looked and smelled divine. “What’s been on the grill tonight?”
“Zebra, sir. Shot yesterday by the gentleman at the end,” he said, nodding to a youngish man who Sebastian noted looked as pleased as punch with himself. “Judging by that wonderful vein of fat running through it, it will be succulent indeed. And of course, well prepared by the chef.” The waiter smiled.
“I’m sure it will be. Far nicer than antelope in my view,” said Robert, picking up serving utensils and placing an array of vegetables on his plate before selecting a steak. Satisfied with his selection, he tucked into the meat first, nodding his appreciation to Sebastian as he chewed. “Wow, that really is good. Better than the steaks we get back home, and as a Texan ranch owner, I’ve had my share of good ones, I can tell you!” He took another bite. With a mouth half full of meat, he carried on, “Damn, that is good!”
As the others sampled their food, everyone nod
ded in agreement that it was in fact one of the best steaks they’d had. Quiet came over the table and, apart from the gentle scraping of cutlery on china, the room was silent as the group ate hungrily.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The following morning, Sebastian awoke just before dawn, showered and went back to the dining room in search of breakfast. Even though they’d all eaten heartily last night, he was famished. He was looking hugely forward to his first full day out hunting, and he needed to keep the fire stoked. Even at five am, the dining room was filling up fast as the other eager hunters emerged and prepared for their day with a big breakfast. Sebastian filled his plate from the buffet with a mixture of fresh fruits, porridge-like Bota, and generous slices of various cold meats, something there was always a plentiful supply of on a hunting trip. What the guests killed and couldn’t eat themselves, the locals made use of and welcomed the food into their homes for their families.
“Morning,” said a familiar voice.
Sebastian looked up from his breakfast feast and saw Robert at his shoulder. “And good morning to you. Did you sleep well?’ he enquired, putting a large slice of fresh orange into his mouth. A little juice dribbled down his chin.
“Like a baby, like a baby!” Robert confirmed. “That’s one reason I love coming to this place at my age. The facilities are just great. Sleeping in a damn tent is not my body’s idea of comfort, and without sleep, I can be quite cranky, let me tell you. No, I need a good bed for these old bones.”
Sebastian smiled at the older man. At the ripe old age of forty-five himself, he could empathise with that, never mind when you’re pushing eighty like his friend Robert.
“Well, I’ll leave you to your breakfast and go get a plate of my own. Think I’ll take it outside and watch the dawn break. No need to rush at my age.” And then he was gone, leaving Sebastian to his thoughts about the day ahead. This was the beauty about coming away when he had: there was no one from the office to bother him, and after dropping his bombshell on that greedy bastard Jason on Friday afternoon, he was glad he was out of it until he’d cooled off a little. He thought back to their lunchtime meeting as he ate, and his embarrassment at having a drink thrown in his face. While his skin was tough, it had annoyed him greatly—and in front of people he knew too. Why had the jerk made matters worse for himself by doing that? A waiter speaking to him brought him back to the dining room.