Chapter 6 Six

CALVIN

I was surrounded by people, fighting the urge to yawn in exhaustion. Cathy sat beside me, jotting down points I would have no use of. Some faces were familiar, some strange but we were all seated around the same table in my company boardroom. A man was attempting to pitch a new insurance idea to me. It had something to do with my shipping vehicles and the new naval policy put up by the government. It had to be something related to that because so far, I was bored and had stopped listening ages ago.

When he began to divert in another endless bout of circumlocution, I cut him short, striking my fist against the top of my desk. The talkative jumped, his shoulders flinching at my sudden interruption.

"Yes, Mr Walters?" he responded, deciding to pardon my crude methods.

"You have been talking for over an hour now yet I do not seem to grasp the basic idea of what you have been going on and on about. Perhaps someone else, some other envoy could do more justice to your explanation. Time is money, gents and you are wasting mine."

The young man blanched in embarrassment, his eyes glued to the ground. Maybe I had been a little bit harsh but it has been necessary. I had better things to do with my daylight beside listening to a tedious excuse of a business pitch.

Fortunately, another representative of Novad Insurance Company stood up to the challenge. He patted the previous speaker on the shoulder and politely nudged him aside and took his place. The latter begged to be excused and he took off, his tail between his legs. The new guy looked more assertive than the previous and he immediately got my attention with his air of togetherness. He carried nothing but a sheet of typed notes with him and he dropped even that aside but within ocular view.

"My name is Morris Smith and I am not here to tell you something you already know. Instead, I am here to intimate you on the latest insurance development on ground. All of us present here are definitely aware that the government has increased the taxes of high earners in the import business such as persons like Mr Walters here for instance. We, at Novad, have come up with an insurance strategy to allow Aquarium to pay such an exorbitant tax rate as 13% and still be undeterred by the outcome."

He stepped forward with the typed sheet he had come with and presented it to me. I glanced through it with a sweep of my lashes and saw a lot of numbers, diagrams and some graphs. I was not in the mood to actually read it immediately so I slipped it between my leather-bound journal. He went on:

"I could go on and on and on about the benefits of this new strategy, just like my colleague did but we all know that nobody forces Mr Walters into a deal so...."

The room broke up in cautious laughter, and he even managed to tug a tiny grin from the corner of my mouth. He was good at keeping the crowd's attention, the power of an orator, a trait I readily admire. Despite the seriousness of our gathering, he made out time to make the crowd relax.

"Jokes apart though, it is true. So I'm just gonna leave my proposal with you, sir for your lawyers to dissect and determine if it's worth believing in. That will be all for now, gents. Enjoy the rest of your day," he concluded beautifully and waited for my approval. Every eyes swept towards me and to be honest, I was enjoying the self-made suspense. I spun my chair a bit from side to side, waiting them out at the narrow rear end of the table. I could hear some of them breathing heavily and I almost burst in laughter. When I felt they had endured enough, I sat up and my eyes met Morris' halfway from opposite the room.

"I will get back to you as soon as I can. Meeting dismissed."

ARIA

"The plane is about to land. We are home at Manchester, England. Thank you for choosing Freedom Airlines and we look forward to surpassing your expectations in the future. Welcome to England," the excited air-hostess recited in cheer.

So soon? was all I could think about. I was enjoying the comfort ride and now, it would be over. I looked out the window. The clouds were fluffy like little balls of cotton candy. I tentatively sipped from my pineapple cocktail, piña colada, my favourite drink but without the rum.

Apparently, according to the Gospel of Madelyn Guerrero, models were not supposed to imbibe more than a few sips of white wine, unless impossible to avoid it, especially at an event. I had taken her words for it and had chosen a kind of middleman drink.

Besides, I was not sure I could stomach alcohol as best as I thought. I soon found myself relieving my earlier conversation with Mr Walters, where I had made a complete fool out of myself, stuttering and stammering like a defective robot. I was only thankful that he hadn't laughed at me.

In my defence, I was pretty sure many ladies, perhaps even successful women like Madelyn, not just me, turned to blubbering idiots at the sight of Calvin Walters. He was so confident, manly and his swimming in money was just a plus. He invaded my thoughts since I took my phone off my ear. He couldn't be interested in me, could he? Of course not, I scoffed at the idea. But would it be that bad? my mind sympathized with me. I was young and single just as he was.

Besides, I knew my father would be pleased if I captured the heart of someone like Calvin Walters. I had to know him properlu I soon found myself relieving my earlier conversation with Mr Walters, where I had made a complete fool out of myself, stuttering and stammering like a defective robot. I was only thankful that he hadn't laughed at me.

In my defence, I was pretty sure many ladies, perhaps even successful women like Madelyn, not just me, turned to blubbering idiots at the sight of Calvin Walters. He was so confident, manly and his swimming in money was just a plus. He invaded my thoughts since I took my phone off my ear. He couldn't be interested in me, could he? Of course not, I scoffed at the idea. But would it be that bad? my mind sympathized with me. I was young and single just as he was.

Besides, I knew my father would be pleased if I captured the heart of someone like Calvin Walters. He would think it a wonderful alliance, a bond built through marriage. Marriage?! When I had gone from thinking about Mr Walters to contemplating marriage was beyond me entirely. What was I thinking? Mr Walters was probably dating some hot Italian vixen who was wanton with her desires and didn't break up into syllables when her head turned to bubbles. He had merely done me a favour by lending his jet, no feelings attached whatsoever.

I felt the plane wheels hit the ground before the mammoth vehicle glided to a stop. I inhaled a deep breath of sanity and silently recited a benediction.

"Welcome to England, the land of dreams," the pilot acclaimed.