Ten

As weird as it was for Liam to have randomly recorded her, Mackenzie was grateful. After he released his counter-video, the woman who’d claimed she was “crazy” quickly deleted her version of events and went back to posting long videos of herself picking outfits for the day.

Had Russell really asked Liam to make a documentary about Lottie? Mackenzie had a vague memory of Russell talking about wanting to do a documentary, but he’d never put any plans into place.

Then again, planning wasn’t Russell’s forte.

Mackenzie wasn’t going to concern herself with it. Whatever Liam decided to do was between him and Russell. He’d been helpful insofar as she could now move on from that debacle and focus on what she needed to do: keep the sea pen project afloat until Russell got back and hired someone else.

There were two main goals she had with a lot of little details underneath. First, she had to make sure construction stayed on schedule and the sea pen would be ready for Lottie when it was time to move her out to the island.

That was easy enough. It involved a lot of calls, nagging, and making sure everyone was aware of what needed to be done.

The harder goal was dealing with money. Why did it always come down to money? Why did it make the world go ‘round, even for killer whales?

It took Mackenzie two weeks to sort through the mess of invoices the old assistant had left behind. She was relieved to find out there was enough money in the Lottie account to cover invoices, but there wasn’t much left over.

That was the issue. They had large expenses coming up for the project and no real income for the project. It was all based on donations.

The Blackfish Ball would be more important than she’d realized. It would be their last chance to fundraise and make sure they had enough to get Lottie here in August.

Mackenzie would get it done. She had to. Once Lottie was here safely, Russell would return and find someone else to coordinate things. Her good deed would be done, and she could move on with her life.

Where she’d move on, she had no idea. When she wasn’t working on things for the sea pen, she applied to jobs. So far, she’d sent out thirty-six applications. Not a single one had responded.

The only lead she had was with Cameron at Opuluxe Escapes. He’d followed up after their meeting with an email asking her to come to the office.

At first, she hadn’t planned on answering, but after a fiery day arguing with the lumber supplier, she thought it might be wise to talk to the only company who might give her a new job after this one.

She wrote back. “I can stop by Monday.”

He answered a minute later. “Wonderful. See you then.”

The Opuluxe Escapes office was near Seattle. Joey had to take the plane in for maintenance in the city, and he graciously offered to give her a ride.

She caught a cab to Fremont. The building was tucked between a brewery and a glass high rise on the Lake Washington Ship Canal. Mackenzie checked in at the front desk and spent ten minutes gazing through the window at the ships floating by.

“It’s my favorite saleswoman!”

Mackenzie jumped when she heard him. “Hey!”

Cameron walked toward her, dressed in a cobalt blue suit, white shirt, and skinny black tie.

He had the style of someone working with high-end clients. Mackenzie could dress well, too. That could be a fun change from her old frumpy office clothes.

He stuck out his hand, grinning. “I hope you weren’t waiting too long.”

She accepted his handshake. Maybe she should’ve dressed up more? She didn’t want to look too eager. “Not at all. There’s a great view.”

“Thanks so much for coming out. I know you’re busy, so I won’t waste your time. I can give you the tour and we’ll talk about sales as we go.”

At least she’d worn comfortable heels. “Sounds good.”

The elevator stood waiting, its golden doors shining Mackenzie’s reflection back at her.

“We’re probably not as big as your last company, but we have a decent sales force and all the support you could want. Our team handles all the bookings and vendors. They’re available twenty-four hours a day to keep the clients happy – which means you don’t have to be on call.”

“That’s efficient.”

The elevator dinged with a light, metallic sound, and the doors opened. Cameron motioned for her to go first, and she walked into the wide space. The far wall was entirely made up of windows, boasting an even more impressive view of the canal, and desks stretched as far as she could see. People worked and chatted in bunches and pairs.

Cameron led the way. “That’s our booking department,” he said with a nod.

A woman smiled back. “Hey, Cam!”

He winked. “Sales staff are scattered all over the office. You’d have a desk, of course, but no one is going to keep tabs on you. If you need to meet with clients or want to work from home, you’ve got the freedom to do that.”

“Oh, nice.” Her old job had insisted they work in the office. It was impossible to get promoted without showing your face at least fifty hours a week.

If she worked here, she wouldn't have to leave the island. Not that she was sure she wanted to stay, but it was nice to have the option.

A woman with a headset waved at Cameron. He waved back.

“What did your top salesman make last year?” Mackenzie asked.

He stopped walking and leaned in close. “That’s an excellent question. I shouldn’t be telling you this, but our top salesman – not me, unfortunately – cleared half a million in commissions.”

Her mouth popped open. “Half a million selling boat rides?”

“It’s not just boat rides. Polar cruises are one kind of trip we curate. We also do safaris, archaeological digs, Australian outback tours. You name it, we make it happen. We’re dream makers, Mackenzie, and I can tell you’re one of us.”

She smiled, casting her eyes to a boat passing in the canal. “I’m not sure I’m much of a dream maker.”

“Fine, you don’t have to be. You’re a heck of a salesman, though, and you have something no one else here has.”

She turned back to him, eyebrow raised. “What’s that?”

“You have an in with Hollywood.”

She scoffed, but before she could respond, he added, “I’m sure you would never capitalize on knowing Mr. Westwood, but the thing is—you wouldn’t have to.”

“I don’t think I follow,” Mackenzie said.

He nodded toward a door. “Let’s talk in my office.”

She walked in. Cameron took a seat behind a handsome reclaimed timber desk. Mackenzie sat in a plush leather armchair, her eyes scanning the black and white photographs framed on the walls. Some were of beautiful scenes. Others were of smiling faces.

Was he married? No obvious pictures of a wife. No ring on his finger.

“Bailey Jo is recommending you to all her friends. I had to send them to my other salesman, and a few insisted they only wanted to work with you.”

“Uh huh.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I definitely believe you.”

He put his hands up. “I’m serious. I’m not trying to schmooze you here. I’ll even tell you the names when we get out of the building.” He glanced at his watch.

Mackenzie leaned in. It was a Rolex. Maybe a Daytona? That was a classic, but pricey. Twenty thousand? Maybe thirty thousand?

“I’ve got a reservation at the best sushi restaurant in town,” Cameron said. “Would you want to join me?”

She bit her lip. Joey might be done working on the plane. She didn’t want to keep him waiting…

He spoke again. “You’ve got to let me make my pitch. I think you could take this company to the next level, and I can’t just let you walk out of here without considering my offer.”

She tried not to smile, but who was she to argue with that? “Sure. Why not.”

“Excellent. We’ll take the company car.”

They waited in the lobby. Mackenzie texted Joey, and he assured her he was not in a hurry to get back to the islands.

After three minutes, a black Mercedes-Benz S-class pulled up to the building.

“After you,” Cameron said. “By the way, when you work for us, you’re free to use any car from our fleet when meeting clients or working with vendors.”

It was getting harder to pretend she wasn’t impressed. “That’s good to know.”

“I know you might think it’s pretentious,” he said, joining her in the backseat, “but when you’re dealing with people who expect the best, you have to present the best. I drive a Toyota, but if I showed up to meet some of our clients in that, they’d laugh me out of the room. I had a guy tell me he would think I wasn’t good at my job if I didn’t show up in a luxury car.”

Mackenzie tried not to let her face fall too much, but she didn’t like dealing with snobs. “That’s a whole different level than what I’m used to.”

No one at her old job even saw her car. Most of her effort was put into demonstrations and convincing companies the software she was selling would revolutionize their work. This was far more showmanship.

“You’ll get used to it. Believe me.”

They were dropped off outside of a black brick building with a single red door. A man rushed out to greet them, a white and red hat upon his head.

“Mr. Walters,” he said, holding the door open. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Thank you. It’s good to see you, too.”

He bowed slightly. “We have your table ready.”

The man escorted them past tables filled with diners to a small bar with two seats directly in front of the sushi chef.

“I always recommend the tasting menu,” Cameron said, pulling out her chair. “Is that okay with you?”

“Sure,” Mackenzie said, taking a seat. She scanned the menu. No prices.

Cameron smiled. “This is all on me, of course.”

“Oh, I—”

“Well, on Opuluxe,” he laughed, holding up a metallic credit card.

“Company card?” she asked.

He shrugged. “You love to see it, don’t you?”

She’d never gotten a company credit card. Truth be told, she would love to see it.

For the next hour, the conversation flowed.

“I stumbled into this,” Mackenzie confessed. “I’m only covering until Russell gets back.”

“You have a knack for it, though. I swear, I’m not blowing smoke here. You’re talented.”

She looked down at the slice of red fish sitting atop the perfect mound of rice on her plate. “Thank you.”

“And, after you’re done covering, you’re ready for a new job, right?”

“Yes. I’ll be on the market, so to speak.” She laughed.

He glanced over at her. The smile disappeared from his face. His eyes were so intense she had to look away, butterflies taking off in her stomach.

“On the market…” he repeated, smiling to himself.

She took a sip of sake. “Right now, I’m just trying to keep the sea pen’s construction on time and prepare for the fundraiser we have coming up.”

His eyes brightened. “A fundraiser?”

“We’re calling it The Blackfish Ball. It wasn’t supposed to be a big thing, but the last assistant stole a bunch of money, so…you know how that goes.”

“Ah, that’s unfortunate.” He grimaced, setting his chopsticks down. “What does a guy need to do to secure an invitation to this ball?”

She tried to stop the smile spreading across her face, but it was pointless. “I suppose a donation would help.”

“I suppose it would.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I hope you enjoyed talking today as much as I did.”

Mackenzie smiled. “It was certainly interesting.”

“I don’t blame you for playing hard to get.” He looked away, grinning. “Promise me you’ll at least think about it?”

He was exactly the sort of salesman she could never be. Mackenzie was too intense for it – the charm, the wit, the carefree conversation. It made any sale feel low stakes, even if it wasn’t. The perfect way to avoid stressing a valuable client.

She had her own tricks, but she had to admit. He was effective.

Mackenzie smiled at him. “I promise.”

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