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“I understand, and I respect that.”
He eyes me curiously.
“I’m not asking you to sell them to me.”
“Good, because I wouldn’t, even if I like your airline better.”
“Hm.” I tip my head in amusement. “Thank you.”
We walk again, following a path past some flowering bushes that leads alongside the edge of a large lake. The surface is covered in waterlilies.
“I know the deal you’ve signed is with James Callaghan at Skyline.”
Logan keeps his mouth closed, neither confirming nor denying.
“I also know that I’m likely to find him in one of three cities over the next few days.”
“He keeps a very precise schedule,” Logan says.
“He does. His time is precious. As is mine. As is yours.”
I pause, holding Logan’s eyes.
“I might have an idea where you’ll find him. Although talking him out of being the first to get his hands on our engine is not going to be an easy feat,” Logan says.
“I can handle Callaghan.”
“I’m not one for spilling hints over where my clients like to frequent on their travels, Mr. Grant.”
“No, of course not.” I shake my head as we continue strolling along the lakeside. “There was another thing I wanted to discuss with you while I’m here, though.”
“Go for it.”
“The gin we serve onboard and in our first-class lounges… it’sbitter. We need to replace the entire stock. It’s just a question of with what. I’ve always liked Aunt Iris’s blend myself. Nothing compares to it.”
His lips twist. “You’re right. Nothing does. The Silvers and the family who began it all are the only ones who know the secret recipe. This is the only place that makes it.”
“Isn’t that interesting now,” I muse.
“Indeed,” he agrees.
I let the silence stretch on as my offer settles. The next words between the two of us will be figures. I’ll let Logan name his price first. He’ll come in high, as he should, and we’ll meet somewhere lower.
If he knew how desperate I really am, then he’d know I’d happily pay his first figure.
I scan the lake, wondering how many thousands of waterlilies are floating on its surface as I wait.
I don’t hear whatever Logan says because my attention is fixed on the bank further ahead of us. Fixed on the auburn hair bent over a notepad as she writes.
She lifts her head, gazing across the water as she drops her pen between the open pages and then wipes beneath both eyes with her fingertips, completely unaware she’s no longer alone.
I turn, giving Logan a polite smile. “Maybe we could discuss this over one of those sessions you have running by the house.”
“Sure. Let’s do that.”
We turn and head back in the direction we came from.
“What do we have?” I bark as I open the fridge, scanning the contents.
