Island for Two: Hawaii MagicFiji Fantasy Read online

  Silently, Connie sent him whatever strength she could, knowing that he was thinking about the upcoming meeting with his father. After all, it had been several months since the two had even seen each other, and as far as she knew they had never actually worked together.

  Here she was thinking about her little problems, forgetting Michael had his own fears to contend with. She knew that it would be okay. After all, unlike him, she had worked with his father every day and knew how much the man was looking forward to having his son back. She knew that Michael could turn out to be the worst airplane contractor in the history of the world and he would still succeed in his father’s eyes. But this would have to be something he discovered on his own.

  As they pulled up in front of the rectangular-shaped chrome-colored building, Michael leaned forward to get a better look.

  “Very nice.” He nodded, and glanced back at Connie. “I haven’t been back to Connecticut since the new headquarters were built.”

  Connie did a quick calculation in her head, the building was built over seven years ago, they had moved in over six years ago. She knew Michael and his father often met at their vacation home in the Hamptons, but she did not realize it had been so long since Michael had been back to his home state. Connie had wondered why in all the years she’d worked for Reginald Hillard, she’d never met his son, even in passing. Now she knew why.

  “We have a complete test facility right on-site now, so we no longer have to send out for prototyping. It makes the whole process much faster.”

  He glanced back at her and chuckled. “He’s come a long way from the first building in New London.” He smiled, and suddenly she was transported back to the island. Connie thought she would melt right there on the seat.

  Instead she held her emotions in check, and gave a small smile. “I’ve seen the pictures.”

  “Trust me, the pictures do not do it justice. It was like a rat resort, they were everywhere.” He laughed. “It was so bad, he wouldn’t even bring potential clients there. He had a small showroom set up on the other side of town and he would take them there.”

  “Everyone has to start somewhere.” She tried not to stare, but his good humor felt so warm and familiar, she had not realized how much she had missed his laughter until now.

  “Yes, you’re right. And if there is one thing my father has, it’s determination to succeed.”

  “You have that same quality.”

  He gave her a slightly confused look, and Connie realized her mistake. “At least that’s what your father told me.”

  She shrugged, and his smile faded. “I guess we will see, won’t we?”

  His lack of confidence was so apparent it was heartbreaking, but Connie did not know what to say without sounding like a complete idiot.

  “The first order of business is I’m supposed to give you a complete tour of the facility,” Connie said, as the car pulled to a stop and the chauffeur came around to open the door.

  Michael frowned. “Didn’t you say my father was anxious to see me?”

  She nodded. “Yes, but he’s in a meeting until three.”

  He glanced at his watch. “Maybe I should just head to the house.”

  Now she frowned. “You don’t want to see the facility?”

  He glanced out the window once more. “No, not now.” His eyes darted to hers. “Could you arrange a tour at another time? I’m just really tired coming off this trip.”

  Connie sensed something else was going on, but again she could not really ask without coming off as super-intrusive.

  “Would this time tomorrow be good for you?”

  “Perfect.” He reached over and placed his hand on her arm, and Connie felt the touch all the way to her toes. “I really appreciate your working with me.”

  She smiled and pushed up her glasses on her nose. “That’s what I’m here for.” As she climbed out of the car, she called back. “I’ll let your father know.”

  The door was closed and a few seconds later she watched the rear of the car as it turned off the drive and merged back into the business traffic of the main throughway. She stood there for a few minutes replaying the afternoon in her head.

  The good news was that Michael Hillard had no idea that she was his island lover and would therefore make no attempts to pick up where they had left off.

  The bad news was…that Michael Hillard had no idea she was his island lover and would therefore make no attempts to pick up where they had left off.

  Chapter 7

  As the limo pulled into the long gravel driveway leading to the colonial brick house that rose up before them, Michael leaned out the window. He had not been here since he was a teenager.

  It wasn’t that he had bad memories of the place. In fact, it was just the opposite. This was the place where his mother’s memory lived. This was the place where he had celebrated the happiest holidays of his life, experienced the most significant moments of a young man’s life. It was where he grew to be a man nestled in the bosom of loving parents. This was home.

  Now after years of bouncing between their family’s various other homes, he was back, and at first glance, time seemed to have stood still.

  The door to the car opened and he stood beside it, continuing to take in the perfectly manicured grounds and pristine house. He’d expected to feel a lot of things coming here, and a feeling of satisfaction was not supposed to top the list, but it did.

  Actually being here, he could now see that at some point over the years a sense of peace had settled around the loss of his mother. As the beloved only child of Madeline Hillard, Michael had bathed in her love and attention during his early life. Her sudden loss as the result of a heart attack had left him devastated and he’d grieved for a long time.

  But now, being in the home he’d shared with her and his father, the pain wasn’t nearly as sharp as he’d expected. He was healing, and now knew he could stay here without being haunted by a ghost of the past.

  As the driver took his bags from the trunk, Michael went up the steps and the front door swung open. The middle-aged man who answered the door smiled in greeting.

  Michael did not recognize him, but smiled in return anyway.

  “Welcome, Mr. Hillard. My name is Carl. I’m your father’s personal assistant.”

  Michael stopped himself from shaking his head. An assistant at the office, one at home. He was surprised his father didn’t have one just for the car.

  “Nice to meet you, Carl.”

  Carl closed the front door after the driver set Michael’s bags on the foyer floor inside the house. Michael had walked over to look up the stairs, at the walls lining the stairwell, still surprised by how little had changed over the years.

  Carl picked up the bags and climbed the stairs. “I’ll just carry these to your room.” And he disappeared, moving at a speed Michael wouldn’t have thought possible, based on the age of the man.

  Michael decided to take a few minutes to familiarize himself with his home. He wandered around the lower floor, from the dining room through the kitchen, the great room and finally out to the terrace that lined the back of the house. Even the little knickknacks scattered throughout the rooms had not changed, including childish odds and ends he’d created over the years, and handed out as gifts to his mother, still lined the shelves.

  He’d missed the place, more than he had realized. He should’ve come back sooner but a part of him feared what he would find here. But today, even not knowing how he would react to being back, he knew he had to come and face it. Contessa had taught him that.

  Leaning against the metal railing that lined the terrace, Michael stared out over the lawn, letting his mind wander back to the woman who had consumed his thoughts for the past few days. He’d made a conscious decision not to dwell on a woman that had abandoned him. But at that moment,
he desperately wanted her by his side.

  He wished he could talk to her about what he was feeling. He knew she would understand. She had a way of knowing what he was thinking and feeling even before he said it. She knew what he wanted even before he asked. A talent that was especially wonderful in a lover.

  But she wasn’t there. She knew who he was, she knew where to find him. Some part of him still hoped that she would come looking for him. Some part of him still hoped there was some explanation. He hadn’t received so much as a phone call.

  For all the evidence he had of their interlude, she could’ve been a figment of his imagination. And as much as he hated to admit it, he had finally begun to accept that maybe she had left because she was simply done with him. That what had been a life-altering experience for him, had just been a casual affair for her.

  The cynic in him thought maybe it was just karma. As a man who’d spent most of his adult life fighting off marriage-minded women, now when he finally found one he wanted to marry, she would disappear like mist. Was he just getting what he was owed?

  Not that it mattered. Not now. Not anymore. She didn’t want him, that was plain enough, and he would just have to find a way to get over that hurt and move on. He had to devote his mind and attention to learning the family business. His father was right. It was high time he take on some serious responsibility. He only hoped he could rise to the challenge.

  Although he’d only spoken to her a moment, it was obvious his father’s assistant, Connie, knew her stuff. She spoke with a kind of pride that came from someone invested in what she was doing, and he would probably do good to learn as much as he could from her. His father sung her praises, and that alone was a telling sign. Reginald Hillard was not a man who was easy to please, but he was willing to pay well for exceptional performance. The woman was the picture of competence in her mall-store business suit.

  His cell phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and answered. “Hello?”

  “Michael? Connie said you went straight home, everything okay?”

  “Hi, Dad. Yes, I’m fine, just a little wiped out.”

  “Any problems with the flight?”

  “No, no, everything was fine. Thanks for sending the jet for me.”

  “I’m just glad you’re finally home, son. Did you have any plans for later? I wanted to take you to dinner.”

  “No, no plans. Dinner sounds great.”

  “Good. I have a couple more things to do and then I’ll be right along. In the meantime, just let Carl know if you need anything.”

  “All right, I’ll be here.”

  “Son, it’s good to have you home.”

  “It’s good to be back home.” Michael was surprised to find, even as he said the words, that they were true.

  * * *

  As he hung up the phone, Reginald Hillard smiled up at his assistant.

  Connie smiled back. “See, I told you he was okay.”

  “Right as always, my dear. I just needed to hear his voice.” He patted her hand where it rested on his desk next to his. His face wrinkled in concern. “I just wish I didn’t have all these damn meetings over the next few days, but there was no way around it. And it’s really pointless to bring him into the meetings until he has a better understanding of the day-to-day functions.” He spun his swivel chair around to face her. “You’ll take care of him for me, won’t you, Connie? Take him around, show him the ropes?”

  Connie nodded and busied herself with the files scattered around his desk. “Of course, Mr. Hillard. I’ll bring him up to speed just as we discussed. Is there anything you want to add to the list?”

  He shook his head thoughtfully. “No, just the items we discussed. Don’t want to overwhelm him.” He sat back in his chair. “You know, I’m asking you to do this not just because you have such a proficient knowledge of the company, but there is another reason.”

  Connie’s hands stilled while holding a stack of papers from his desk. “Another reason?” she asked cautiously.

  He nodded firmly. “Yes. Connie, you love this company almost as much as I do—I want you to convey that sense of pride to him, if that is at all possible.”

  She smiled at the man who had become like a father or an uncle to her over the years. “I doubt if that is even necessary, Mr. Hillard. I’m sure your son already loves this company every bit as much as you do.” She finished organizing his desk and headed back to hers which sat just outside the larger suite.

  Connie loved her job. She’d been hired into the secretarial pool ten years ago, and through hard work and late hours—mostly done as a way to avoid going home to Nathan when she was married, and then Brian and Annie when she had moved in with them—she’d worked her way up to executive assistant to the president of the company.

  And no one could ask for a better boss than Reginald Hillard. He was demanding, but fair. And Connie had not been looking forward to the possibility that she would have to leave the company if things became awkward between her and Michael. But if his reaction today was any indication, she had nothing to worry about. There was nothing in his demeanor or speech to indicate that the past week had represented anything significant in his life. It had changed her world forever. Now, thanks to the confidence she had gained, she was ready to get her own place. What had seemed like enough was no longer. There was so much to life, so much living to do and she wanted to do it. She had conceded defeat too quickly before but, thanks to Michael, she knew what victory felt like—and she wanted more. What that meant exactly, or how she was to go about getting it, was still a mystery. But nonetheless, for her, the past week had changed her whole world and it was all thanks to Michael Hillard.

  As for him, he just looked like a man recovering from an island fling.

  Chapter 8

  As he stood at the large windows facing out of his expansive corner office, Michael could not shake the feeling that his life would forever be divided into two parts. Pre-Contessa and now post-Contessa.

  Before he had met the woman, he’d been a man perfectly content with his lot in life. Hell, more than content. He’d spent his youth living every playboy’s dreams, and in the company of some of the most beautiful women in the world. And now only one woman would do. And no matter how he tried to pick up the pieces and move on, it was impossible.

  At first he’d convinced himself that his current state of unhappiness was due to the way in which she’d ended their affair. Sneaking out without so much as a goodbye. But now, weeks later, he was left with nothing but the truth. When she had left the island, she had taken his heart with her.

  For the first time in his life, Michael Hillard was experiencing a broken heart—and it hurt like hell. But worse than the pain of never knowing what could’ve been, was not knowing why. Why she’d left him the way she did. He knew she felt something for him, maybe not love, but enough to, at the very least, exchange real phone numbers.

  At the soft knock at the door, he turned slightly to see Connie crossing the room with a manila folder extended toward him. “You father asked me to discuss this account with you. Do you have a moment?”

  Michael glanced at her bowed head, as she studied her every step, to the extended arm and back to her bowed head. It just occurred to him that he’d worked with the woman for almost a month now and had no idea what color her eyes were. She always walked with her head down as if fearing she would fall if she was not constantly vigilant.

  “Sure.” He took the file and opened it to find it contained information on a new design for one of their biggest clients.

  In the weeks he’d been there, he’d spent most of his time learning about the inner workings of the company itself. He’d been given a complete “how to” course of their finance department. Plus a guided tour of both their local plants and planned future tours of the various locations around the world. And although it
was not necessary, a complete rundown of the Hillard family history and how the company had come to be. All thanks to his father’s obsessively competent assistant. She might not be much for eye-to-eye contact, but she was one hell of a right-hand man.

  Despite the long hours and busy schedule, Michael had always known that was filler work until he found his footing. He’d always assumed his father did not bring him out of his quasi-hiatus just to count beans. And the file in his hands now confirmed his belief. This was a major project for one of their biggest contracts. Unlike most of what he’d done so far, this was important. And Michael understood it was also his father’s way of saying it was time to get down to business.

  True to the established pattern of the past few weeks, when a task was important, his father placed it into the hands of his most trusted employee. This explained why Connie Vaughn was standing in front of him counting carpet threads.

  With her hands at her sides, and her head downcast, she looked like a child about to be scolded. Michael pretended to review the file as he let his eyes roam over the petite woman, wondering why she dressed in such dowdy clothes when she obviously had a pretty decent figure underneath all those sweaters and high-collared blouses.

  And she always wore her auburn hair in that tight bun at the back of her head, which was a shame really because even in the dim light of the office, her golden highlights were noticeable. Michael thought it was kinda strange how some women like Contessa just had a natural sense of style as to what made them look best, and other women, like Connie, could barely match their socks. With the right coaching, it was obvious Connie had a lot of potential to be an attractive woman. Too bad she didn’t have someone like Contessa to show her how to accent her best features.

  “Are you familiar with the 160 Airbus?” A small finger came over the top of the file to point to a line. “It’s a new design, but we fully expect it to be one of our best sellers.”