I laugh. “Do you want me to buy in?”
“Can do,” he says carelessly. “We can talk about that later. I’m more interested in bringing in someone who can help me build the business. We need a new management structure for a start.” Rhys has two salons—this one on Ibiza, which is his main one, and the one on Mull that he bought off his uncle last year. Both of them are booked months in advance, especially this one. Celebrities, actors, musicians and the very wealthy make the trek to Ibiza because Rhys is a world-class artist.
He winks at me. “You deserve the partnership just from the sheer amount of glamour you bring in.”
“Oh, shut up.”
“You can’t shake a stick in here now without hitting a supermodel. The cafe over the road has become like a paparazzi HQ.”
“I can’t help having more connections than Great Western Rail. You could be the same if you smiled more.”
“I don’t like smiling. It makes people talk to you.”
Excitement stirs. “Oh, my god. A partnership could actually be a good idea, Rhys.”
“I know. I am filled with them.”
“Yeah, tell that to Klaus. He’s still doing community service for the stripping incident.” He laughs. “Can I discuss this with Reuben? I don’t do anything big unless I talk to him first.”
“I wouldn’t expect it any other way. We can talk about it over dinner.”
He leaves after promising to bring a bottle, and after calling goodbye to Zara the receptionist, I leave too.
Loud voices attract my attention, and I see a group of people sitting outside the bar on the corner. They’re all dressed up, so they’re obviously going to one of the clubs. Even as I watch, I spy a small bag exchanging hands. It’s a common sight. Once upon a time, that might have been me. It’s hard to picture that boy now. I haven’t touched any shit since the incident with Robbie, and I hope I never do. Modelling and the incessant spotlight weren’t good for me. The laidback lifestyle I have now with Reuben is so much better for me.
My jeep is parked down a side street, and I lower the top. Within a few minutes, I’m out on the open road leading to the villa we rented. I remove my bandanna, feeling the wind play in my hair and the sweat cool on my neck.
I love this island. The clubs and yachts make it glitzy, but it also has a low-key, lazy, bohemian atmosphere that really appeals to me. It’s dusty lanes and the bright glint of swimming pools tucked away behind gates and trees. It’s a breeze that smells of flowers, and it’s the constant sound of the sea. The days are hot and sunny, the nights warm, and I feel like a plant that uncurls and stretches to the sun whenever we’re here.
It’s such a contrast to Mull, where we spend the autumn and winter. That’s cosy log fires, storm clouds, and the ceaseless whine of the wind. It’s walks along empty beaches where the wind feels like it could pick you up. It’s our cottage, the feel of familiar possessions around us, and the company of old friends.
I turn into the drive leading to our villa and get out to open the pale blue, wooden gate. Jumping back in, I motor along and then park in front of the villa. It’s a stone, ranch-style building that nestles in the trees as if it’s always been there.
I take the side gate and come out into the garden. It’s a wealth of colour and scents with a Bougainvillea rioting over the patio.
A low bark sounds, and I crouch to welcome Bernard, who promptly knocks me on my arse and smothers me with doggy kisses.
“Get off, you silly dog,” Reuben calls. “I want him operating with all his vital parts intact tonight.”
“You old sweet talker you.” I look over and grin at Reuben, who is swinging lazily in the hammock. He’s wearing an old pair of swimming shorts that have faded to a pale blue, and he’s tanned a dark golden colour. His dark hair is loose, and he wears an old Panama hat pulled low over his face. “You okay there? Have you moved since I left this morning?”
He removes the hat and gives me a slow smile, his teeth white in his tanned face. “I’m becoming lazy.”
“Why the becoming? You attained that state last month. I’ve seen limes move at a faster pace than you.”
“I’m sure you have if they’re making their way into Pip’s tequila glass.”
“So many little fruits sacrificed for the greater good.”
He laughs and lifts his arm. “Come and lie down. You look tired.”
I pad over, stripping off my T-shirt that advertises the tattoo shop and dropping it on a lounger. The pool gleams azure-blue, its surface ruffled with small waves from the gentle breeze. Being high up, the villa benefits from the winds that blow off the sea.
His eyes track my body, and the familiar gleam twinkles. I’m sure it matches mine when I look at him.
I stop by the hammock. “Any room at the inn?”
“Provided you haven’t got a holy baby with you, yes.”
