Rihanna nominated for American Music Award

Bajan music sensation Rihanna has another major nomination under her belt. This time around she's up for the award of Best Female Artist in the category of Soul/Rhythm & Blues. Her competitors are two other big favourites, Fantasia and Beyonce. Rihanna is also scheduled to perform at the event, along with Fergie, Chris Daughtry and Celine Dion.

For the first time in American Music Awards history, winners will be determined by online voting at ama.abc.com (votes will be collected from Oct. 9 to Nov. 1). Winners will be announced at the 2007 American Music Awards ceremony, which will be broadcast live on ABC, SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 18 (8:00-11:00 pm ET/PT) from the NOKIA Theatre L.A. LIVE in downtown Los Angeles.


Click here to see the full list of nominees.

This is gonna be interesting. I love me some Fantasia but this should be a straight fight between Beyonce and Rihanna. And now that their fans can vote, the battle is going to even more interesting. Voting starts tonight so you know what to do.

Oh Marion....

Hi, peoples, got back earlier today from a peaceful few days in the countryside. I highly recommend it. I have a few pics I'll put up later; you all know I like to show off my beautiful country to the world.


I'm a bit out of the loop but one news item that jumped out at me was Marion Jones' admission that she took steroids, and the latest I read is that she's returned the five medals she won at the 2000 Sydney Olympic Games.

Double dang. I haven't been this disappointed since I found out Milli Vanilli were lip-synchers. Marion, girl, I glad you decided to come clean, but why you didn't do it ever since? Girlfriend gone and bankrupt herself trying to prove her "innocence" and I know she's going to get some jail time, 'cause she lied to federal investigators too about that cheque fraud business. And you know the relay teams she was a part of probably feel like throwing rocks at her right about now too.

Well, they say the truth will set you free, and her husband is a Christian after all. She really needs Jesus right now for sure....

Photo: www.people.com/Peter Foley/EPA/Corbis

Trading Hearts Pt. 7

Trading Hearts is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons in coincidental. Photo courtesy of www.islandhideaways.com.

Natasha pressed her forehead against the tiled wall of her shower stall, letting the warm water cascade down her body. Her tears of humiliation had long dried, to be replaced with acute self-loathing. She couldn’t believe she had been stupid enough to let her emotions run away with her, to make love to someone she barely knew, that she more or less worked with, and in such an open setting!

Michael. Despite her anger, she still became aroused when she remembered their passionate lovemaking. His skillful tongue, pliant lips, talented hands…. She pounded the tiles in anger. The sooner she forgot about that damn construction man, the better. Once she cut ties with King Properties she would no longer have a reason to see him.

Fifteen minutes later, she was drying her hair when the telephone rang. Her heart sank when she recognised the number on the caller id. She cleared her throat and picked up the receiver.

“I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time,” Brian Goddard started.

Not as bad as earlier today, Natasha thought, responding in the negative.

He paused before continuing. “I…um, wanted to let you know I don’t hold what happened today against you. It hasn’t changed my opinion of you.”

Unconvinced, Natasha interrupted. “That’s very kind of you, Mr. Goddard, but my behaviour was unacceptable. I don’t see any alternative but to resign.”

Brian rolled his eyes. Natasha and Alan really were two of the most stubborn people he had ever met; you tried to throw them a lifeline and they tossed it right back at you.

“I don’t want your resignation, Natasha. You’ve been doing an excellent job so far. Please, let’s put this incident behind us and move on.”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Does your benevolence have anything to do with the land deal?”

“No,” he replied bluntly, “I’m just too lazy to look for another property manager.”

Natasha couldn’t help but laugh, and Brian joined in. “I’m so sorry,” she added, “I should never have let things go so far.”

The developer chuckled. “Well, I guess I can see the how the ambience at Emerald Bay could affect a young couple like you two,” he replied.

Natasha blushed. “What about Michael? Did you…?”

He knew what she was asking. “No, I didn’t fire him. I just let him off with a warning.”

Relieved, she thanked Brian and replaced the receiver. She was about to turn away when the telephone rang again. She almost picked it up when she saw it was a call from Emerald Bay House.

The sooner I put some distance between us the better, she thought. With a heavy heart, she pulled out the phone’s jack and headed to bed.

******

Michael must have left 20 messages on her answering machine, but a week later Natasha still had not responded. She hadn’t told Kim about the way her surprise birthday lunch turned out either; instead she had simply said it was nice and avoided all further conversation about it.

Although she knew that Michael didn’t deserve to be frozen out of her life, it was the only way she could avoid the temptation of falling into his arms again. She easily lost her head when she was around him, and she didn’t like it one bit.

Inevitably, she had to pay a visit to the west coast property, this time to show it to the manager of a Hollywood actress who wanted to spend the winter in Barbados with her large family. Tense, she guided the woman through the house and out into the garden. Michael was nowhere to be seen. As the client basked in the late afternoon sunshine and excitedly inspected the gazebo and finished playpark, Natasha gazed around, wondering where he had gone.

Maybe his work here is finished, she thought. So why did she feel so disappointed?

Half-an-hour later, Natasha finally managed to drag the visitor away from the beach and back to the house to sign the lease agreement. She was in the process of locking up when she heard a piercing scream coming from the back of the house. She bolted through the French doors and out on to the ground floor terrace, and was terrified to see three small children struggling to stay afloat in the deep end of the pool.

Not wanting to waste time unlocking the terrace gate, she climbed over the balcony, dropping three feet to the crazy-paved area near the pool. Ignoring the scratches she received to her palms and knees, she kicked off her shoes and dove into the pool.

“I have you, sweetheart,” she reassured the scared little girl whom she reached first. “Hold on to me.”

The girl, who looked around seven, clung to Natasha’s neck for dear life, sobbing.

The woman made it back to the side of the pool and deposited the girl safely on dry ground before swimming quickly back to the two boys. Fear overcame Natasha when she didn’t see them, and she dove underwater. She spotted their flailing arms a few feet away, and gripped them both by the waist.

Once they burst to the surface, the two boys clung to Natasha like limpets, and their combined weight almost sent her back down to the bottom of the pool. She struggled to keep herself afloat, treading water furiously. Just as she was afraid she would go under again, she heard Michael yelling her name, followed by a splash.

A few seconds later, Michael was at her side, coaxing one of the boys to hold on to him. Relieved of the additional weight, she placed the other child in the rescue position and towed him safely to the side of the pool. Michael lifted his charge out of the pool before taking the other boy. He then turned back to Natasha and assisted her out of the water.

Coughing and her eyes irritated from the chlorine, Natasha moved to check on the children, who were coughing up water but were otherwise alright. Saying a silent prayer, she sank to her knees, trembling. She looked around for Michael, and looked up to see him racing back with a cordless phone in hand and several blankets.

She grabbed them and started to wrap the soaked children, while Michael called a nearby hospital for assistance. The children taken care of, she lifted a blanket around her shoulders, exhausted.

“Let me help you.” Michael gently folded the blanket around her, hugging her close. She rested her head on his shoulder, her body racking with sobs.

“They could have died,” she cried, looking at the three youngsters lying nearby.

“But they didn’t. You saved them, baby,” Michael whispered, pushing her wet hair away from her face. He kissed her forehead tenderly, rocking her from side to side. She relaxed, feeling warm and safe in his arms.

The next hour was a blur: wailing sirens, the cries of concerned parents, police questioning her about the incident, an EMT crew checking her over. Natasha vaguely remembered seeing a television camera crew poolside before they were escorted to the gate by the Police.

Realising that she was not in a frame of mind to handle the ordeal, Michael scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the guest cottage. She was too tired to protest as he stripped the wet clothes from her body and wrapped her in a terry-cloth robe. She murmured her thanks, and as soon as her head hit the pillow, she went out like a light.


More next week, si dieu veux. Take care until then.

Trading Hearts Pt. 6

Trading Hearts is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons in coincidental. Photo courtesy of www.islandhideaways.com.

Grumbling in annoyance, Natasha climbed out of her SUV in front of Emerald Bay House. She hadn’t planned to visit the West coast property that day, not with several south coast properties requiring her attention. She had groaned when Kim called her on her cell to inform her that a group of local businessmen wanted to urgently view the property. Since Emerald Bay was her most prized listing, she had reassigned her other tasks to Kim and other employees.

Glancing impatiently at her watch, she ran up the steps of the house and let herself in. No matter how many times she visited the property, she was always in awe of the sheer luxury exuding from the villa. Light bounced off the natural coral stone walls of the grand foyer, the high ceilings and large windows giving Natasha the impression of entering a cathedral.

She passed the elegant, coral stone stairway that lead to the upper level of the house and headed to her favourite spot, the seaside terrace that ran the length of the villa. Below, water shimmered and danced in the hot August sunlight as it flowed five feet down a tiled wall into a kidney-shaped swimming pool. Beyond the property, she sighted a pleasure boat filled with tourists slowly making its way down the coast.

She closed her eyes for a few seconds, sighing in contentment as the fresh sea breeze enveloped her. Suddenly, she heard footsteps approaching, and her eyes widened in surprise when Michael joined her on the balcony. He was dressed in a clean pair of jeans and a white cotton shirt, the sleeves rolled back to reveal his tanned, muscular arms. The jet-black hair of his moustache and goatee stood out against his sun-kissed skin. Natasha thought fleetingly that he looked good enough to eat.

“Waiting for me?” he joked.

She recovered quickly from the shock of seeing him free of sawdust. “Sure, if you can afford US$6,000 a night,” she quipped.

He made an impressed-looking face. “That much, huh? I think I’ll pass. We builders live on a fixed budget.”

She laughed. “Don’t we all. I think I just might be able to afford the gazebo around here.”

He chuckled. “Speaking of which, you haven't had a tour of the finshed product yet. Come and have a look.”

She was about to decline but decided a walk in the garden with this brown sugar hottie was better than waiting alone in the main house.

She locked the front door and followed Michael to the back of the property. She glanced over at the area designated for the park and saw that Michael had already constructed several swings and a seesaw.

When she reached the gazebo, she pulled up suddenly, gasping in astonishment at the sight that greeted her. The beautifully crafted, wooden building had a blanket several cushions spread on its floor. Several baskets of goodies were laid out, and a bottle of Chardonnay and two wine glasses chilled nearby in a large bucket of ice.

“Happy birthday, Tasha,” Michael laughed, as she stared at him speechlessly. “I guess by now you realise that you don’t have an appointment.”

“How..,” she started, then realisation struck. “Wait till I see that sister of mine!”

“I can’t reveal my sources. Anyway, you still owe me a date away from here, don’t think you’re off the hook,” he laughed, leading her by the hand into the gazebo.

She removed her jacket and kicked off her high heels before taking a seat. “Well, consider this a trial run and we’ll see if you get to move on to the second phase,” she teased.

He poured out two glasses of wine. Handing one to her, he clinked their glasses together in a toast. “May all your dreams come true, Tasha. Today and always.”

Touched, she thanked him and took a sip of the mellow wine. The next hour was spent digging into the sumptuous lunch of chicken, potatoes and Caesar salad, and talking about their families. Michael revealed that his parents were now living in upstate New York, and that he had a younger brother in the United States Army, and an older sister who was a doctor at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore.

At ease in his presence, she related some of her childhood escapades, and filled him in on some of the recent happenings in her life, including the deal King Properties offered her father. The offer for the Taylors’ property was growing every day, and currently stood at $5 million.

“He can do a lot with $5 million. He can buy a house if he doesn’t want the hassle of rebuilding,” he suggested.

Natasha shook head. “My father’s a simple man. To him, money isn’t everything.”

She waved her arm towards the house. “He wouldn’t want to live in a house this size. He would say that he could enjoy the beach front just as well if he lived in the board and shingle house next door.”

Almost on cue, Michael and Natasha heard the children who lived at the tiny dwelling next door squeal in delight as they ran down the small track between the two properties to the beach. They smiled at each other, and Natasha lowered her gaze before he saw her cheeks redden. She was suddenly aware of how close they were seated to each other, their backs propped against the gazebo’s banister, their thighs touching.

“And what about you? What do you want out of life?” he queried suddenly.

She smiled softly. ‘If you’re asking if I would want to live the high society life, no. That’s not what I’m aspiring to. Don’t get me wrong, I love this house, but I’ve seen personally how the lust for money and position can change people, make them forget what’s important.”

He detected a wistful note in her voice and pressed her. “And what’s important to you?”

She turned her face towards his. “Love, honesty and trust,” she replied frankly.

He stared into her brown eyes for a few seconds, before letting his gaze fall to her lush lips. Natasha held her breath, her heart beating a wild tattoo in her chest. He traced the outline of her face with his fingers before drawing her to him.

Natasha returned his kiss hesitantly, savouring the sweet taste of wine and fruit on his breath. He pulled his lips away from hers briefly to place butterfly kisses on her eyes, nose and neck, before reclaiming her mouth.

Natasha moaned softly as his tongue delved between her lips. Her body was a minefield of sensations that were all heading south. As the kiss deepened, he pulled her on to his lap, and Natasha wrapped her arms around his neck.

“You have no idea how long I wanted to do this,” he groaned, trailing hot kisses down her neck. Natasha could only nod as she shivered with pleasure, increasingly aware of his hardness pressing against her hip.

Without breaking their kiss, Michael flipped her on to her back, supporting his weight on his elbows. She ran her hands tentatively under his shirt, raking her nails against his hard abs. He groaned in frustration, his fingers fumbling with the buttons of her blouse.

She clung to him, arching her back with pleasure as he buried his face in her bared bosom, gasping his name as he pleasured her with his lips and hands. Michael placed searing kisses on her taut stomach and was about to unfasten the waistband of her pants when a voice broke into their lust-filled daze.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

Uttering a startled curse, Michael rolled off Natasha’s body, and the mortified woman clutched her blouse to her chest. Brian Goddard stood outside the gazebo, hands on hips, his face red with anger. Scrambling to her feet, Natasha hastily refastened her bra and blouse.

“Tasha, wait…,” Michael began, touching her shoulder but she shrugged off his hand and brushed past him. He heard her mumble an apology to Goddard before running barefoot across the grass, shoes and jacket in hand.

Dejected, Michael slumped down on the step of the gazebo and buried his face in his hands.

“Have you lost your mind, young man?” Goddard railed, “Having sex with the woman wasn’t part of the plan!”

Michael raised his head, an agonised expression on his face. “Give me a break, Brian. I feel bad enough as it is!”

Brian pressed on. “I didn’t mind you trying to convince her to take the deal, but you‘ve gone way too far, Alan.”

Alan Michael Austin King shot him a sour look. “Thanks for pointing that out, Brian, but I don’t give a damn about business right now. You saw the look on her face. She’s never going to speak to me again!”

Sighing, Brian came over and sat with his friend. “Well, her embarrassment’s going to turn to anger if she finds out that you haven’t been totally honest with her,” he said matter-of-factly.

Alan rubbed his shaved head in frustration. He had planned a quiet summer working on his property, incognito. He didn’t expect to find himself caught in an emotional maelstrom with a certain beautiful property manager. Meeting Natasha Taylor was a wonderful surprise, but even though he knew she could complicate his life in ways he didn’t even want to think about, he was damned if he could control his desire for her.

Brian sighed. “I’m sorry for interrupting your…lunch, but it had to be done. The more involved you become with that girl, the angrier she’s going to be when she finds out who you really are. I’m just trying to protect you both from getting hurt.”

Alan’s eyes flashed in anger. “And you think I would deliberately try to hurt Natasha? I care about her, Brian! I wasn’t looking for any of this to happen. I should never have started this whole damn charade in the first place. I should just tell her the truth and get it over with.”

His business partner shook his head vehemently. “No matter which way you look at it, she’s going to think you tried to seduce her to get her family’s land. And when women get angry, they do some crazy things. As much as I want you to patch things up with Natasha, we have the company to think about, Alan.”

The younger man got to his feet. “I’ll worry about the company later. If I know Natasha, she’s probably thinking about resigning. I need to call her!”

Brian held up a hand. “I think you’re the last person she wants to hear right now. You go back to work and let me deal with Natasha.”

After a few more minutes of arguing, Brian finally convinced Alan to resume work, and watched as his disconsolate friend trudged across the lawn.

Yup, Brian thought, he’s in real deep trouble.

Trading Hearts Pt. 5

Hi folks, thanks for all your encouraging comments on the story. Barbados Free Press crew, a special thanks to you. I'm going to double up on installments today and tomorrow because I won't be able to blog after Wednesday until the middle of next week. Blessings.

Trading Hearts is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons in coincidental. Photo courtesy of www.islandhideaways.com.

“Tasha, got a minute?”

Natasha looked up from her laptop to see her father standing in the doorway of her office. He was still dressed in his overalls, having just returned from servicing the pool of a south coast hotel.

Despite his daughter’s insistence that he oversee the pool cleaning aspect of the company’s operations and take a break from active duties, Frank still enjoyed driving out to the various properties. He had made many good friends at hotels, villas and private residences all over the island and through such valuable contacts had been able to assist Natasha in expanding the business.

Natasha noted the concerned look on his face and quickly minimised the spread sheet she was unsuccessfully working on. She was having a hard time concentrating, and she blamed it on a certain sexy builder. Although she made a point of avoiding Michael during her recent visits to Emerald Bay, she found roses waiting for her on the bonnet of her vehicle, along with short notes from him wishing her a good day. She hated to admit it, but he was beginning to get under her skin.

Frank dropped into the chair opposite her desk and rubbed a hand through his salt and pepper hair. “Your mother just called. Apparently we’re invited to some town hall meeting tonight on proposed developments for our neighbourhood. I get frightened when I hear that word these days.”

Natasha frowned. “What type of development? And who’s the developer?”

“According to what she heard in the gap, some big company wants our land, and is willing to pay top dollar to convince us to move!”

Natasha’s family lived in a quiet, working class suburb about 10 minutes out of Bridgetown. Formerly tenanted lands on which residents had set up their chattel houses, the community had developed into a patchwork of stone and timber dwellings interspersed with Government housing units. In recent years, its proximity to the busy Warrens area made it a haven for commercial activity.

She sank back in her leather executive chair, contemplating his news. She then sat up abruptly and grabbed her phone. “Let me make a call to Barbara at Town and Country Planning. If plans are in the works, her department should have them by now.”

After several attempts, she was finally put through to her friend. Ten minutes later, she found out what she needed to know. Frank looked at her expectantly as she hung up.

“Barbara found the file. Apparently King Properties already owns some land in our area and wants to expand it into a mega shopping mall. Obviously, to make that work, we have to be relocated.”

“King Properties!” he exclaimed. “Well, you better tell that man Goddard to forget it ‘cause no matter what they offering I don’t want it. We just finished remodeling the house last year. You think at my age I’m thinking about starting over?”

“Calm down, Daddy. We’ll go see what they have to say tonight and take it from there,” she reassured him, but her mind was working furiously. Natasha didn’t believe in coincidences, and she hoped there was no correlation between her commission with King Properties and the land deal.

Since taking on Emerald Bay several weeks earlier, Brian Goddard had complimented her on her work and had outsourced the property management of two more properties to her company. She had been overwhelmed by his generosity, but now she wondered if the King Properties manager had ulterior motives.

Later that evening, the Taylor family filed into the hall of the community centre where the meeting was being held. The large room was packed with scores of concerned residents. Members of the media jostled for the best vantage point, anticipating a battle between “the big developer” and “the small homeowner”.

Natasha spotted the parliamentary representative for the area at the head table, along with other government officials. The MP mopped his brow nervously, glancing several times at the growing crowd. Natasha snorted. She generally didn’t have much sympathy for politicians, but she knew the man was probably caught between a rock and a hard place. Although most types of development were desirable in the eyes of politicians, the relocation of residents was always a touchy issue on the island, and could lead to the downfall of an elected official.

“What the hell’s he doing here?” Kim exclaimed suddenly, and Natasha turned to see Matthew Sealy entering the hall, accompanied by Brian Goddard.

Five years had elapsed since Natasha had last seen her former boyfriend. He had called several times to scream at her over the champagne incident, but kept his distance. Despite the pain he had inflicted on her, there was a time when she hoped he would change his mind and come back to her. The photos of Matthew and his beaming bride in the social pages had changed all that, and later, announcements of the births of his children had closed that chapter for good.

Natasha noted with twisted pleasure that his once trim body had developed a paunch and his hair was starting to prematurely gray. Retribution sure is a b*tch, she thought cattily.

The meeting started a few minutes later, and the next three hours were filled with attempts by King Properties to explain how the mall would benefit residents, demands from concerned residents to know what was in it for them and peacemaking attempts by the politician. At the end of the evening, Frank Taylor and five other homeowners were the only hold outs, refusing to sell their land to King Properties despite promises of new homes and/or millions of dollars.

As the family prepared to leave, Natasha heard Matthew calling her name.

Kim was the first to react. “Wait, what you saying now, George Jefferson? How’s life on the east side?" she asked mockingly.

Matthew ignored Kim as well the cold stares aimed at him by Frank and Marie. “I need to talk to you, Tasha.”

Natasha looked him up and down. “What could you possibly want me for, Mr. Sealy?” she asked hostilely.

His jaw tightened. “Is it a crime to ask how an old friend’s doing?”

“Depends on who’s asking,” she retorted sarcastically.

He smiled tightly. “I’m still enough of a friend to tell you that King Properties isn’t going to be too happy that your father is holding up its land deal.”

Natasha held back her father as he made a move to confront Matthew. She beckoned to her mother and sister to take him outside. When they were out of earshot, she whirled around to face Matthew.

“Let me tell you something,” she hissed. “The same way that it’s the right of those residents to take your offer, my father has a right to hold on to his land and not sell. Your millions don’t attract a man like him. I’ll be happy to tell that to Brian Goddard personally.”

Matthew shrugged. “Fair enough. Just as long as you remember that you owe a lot of your business to King Properties. I wouldn’t want your company to suffer,” he added with a malicious sneer.

“Screw you, Matthew. You don’t scare me. I have a two-year contract with King Properties, and if they try to get out of it before then they better be prepared for a lawsuit,” she said defiantly.

At that moment, Brian Goddard walked up. He took in the furious glare Natasha was aiming at Matthew. “Is there a problem, Mr. Sealy?”

Natasha interrupted before Matthew could speak. “You tell me, Mr. Goddard. Matthew is under the impression that my commission with your company will be compromised because my father hasn’t accepted your deal. Your contract is lucrative to my company, but if it’s going to be used as leverage against him…”

Livid, Goddard gave Matthew an icy glare and the lawyer appeared to wilt under the onslaught. “I’m not sure what Mr. Sealy’s been telling you, but nothing is further from the truth. Of course we’re disappointed that Mr. Taylor hasn’t accepted the deal but that’s his prerogative. Your position is secure with us, Natasha.”

She tried not to show her relief. “Thank you, Mr. Goddard. I hope we can get through this without any further unpleasantness,” she replied, tossing a hard look in Matthew’s direction.

Natasha took her leave of the two men, and as she walked away she was pleased to hear Goddard continue to berate Matthew further.


*****

As soon as he got home, Brian Goddard called Alan King to fill him in on the public meeting. His business partner listened without interrupting as Goddard outlined what transpired at the community centre.

“Things went better than I thought they would. Six hold outs are far fewer than I bargained for,” Alan said, pleased.

“True,” his friend conceded, “but Frank Taylor wields a fair amount of influence in that part of the community. If we don’t get him on board we may not get the other five to sign on either.”

On the other end of the line, Alan gave a lopsided grin. “Well, I guess we better make him an offer he can’t refuse.”

Brian grunted. “So much for hoping our connection to his daughter’s company would sway him. I believe she would break the contract first before going against her father.”

Brian filled Alan in on the spat between the property manager and her former boyfriend. Alan uttered an expletive.

“You better rein in that son-of-a-b*tch, Brian. One more stupid move from him and I want you to call Stanley Whittaker and have him taken off our account!”

The two men wrapped up their discussion a few minutes later, with Brian promising to sweeten the deal offered to Frank Taylor.

Trading Hearts Pt. 4

Trading Hearts is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons in coincidental. Photo courtesy of www.islandhideaways.com.


Michael looked up from studying his designs for the garden gazebo to see Natasha Taylor striding purposefully across the grounds of Emerald Bay, a crew of four in tow. He watched as she gave instructions to the three men and one woman, who dispersed in different directions.

Michael was suddenly conscious of his sweat-stained t-shirt and sawdust covered jeans. Although Natasha had traded her designer suit of the previous week for jeans and a polo shirt with her company’s logo, she still exuded an air of elegance that made him feel like a shabby vagrant.

She turned and their eyes met, and she hesitated briefly before coming over. “Good morning. I was just about to say you’re here early, until I remembered that you live on site,” she said with a smile.

“Yup. Mr. Goddard was kind enough to let me stay here till I finish up. He probably thinks I’ll finish faster that way,” he joked. He preferred the way he wore her hair today, her natural waves pulled back into a ponytail. She looked more like a carefree college student than the polished business woman he first met.

Natasha peered around him at the half-completed gazebo. Michael had already built its frame and deck floor, and was in the process of assembling the walls.

“Wow, it’s really coming along! It’s going to be beautiful when it’s finished.”

Not as beautiful as you, Michael wanted to say but thought better of it. Natasha Taylor didn’t look like the type of woman to fall for such cheesy sounding lines.

He thanked her. “I hear that a group is moving in soon?”

She nodded. “Next week. A family of six from Pennsylvania. They’ll be staying for two weeks. My people are here making sure everything’s spruced up.”

“Good. By the time they leave I should be nearly finished the gazebo and on to the play park.”

He beckoned to her to take a closer look at the structure, and as she brushed past him she caught a whiff of purple heart wood mixed with a light cologne. She gazed in admiration at the hexagonal design of the gazebo’s deck floor.

“I’m amazed at how you’re building this all by yourself. You have some serious talent, Michael.”

He smiled modestly, surprised at how pleased he was to receive a compliment from this woman.

“I had a good teacher,” he explained. “My father was a master carpenter and although he wasn’t very keen on me following in his footsteps, he taught me everything he knew. When I was about 10 he was offered a job with a firm in New York, and our family relocated there. I worked with him as an apprentice during the summer holidays.”

“I’m impressed. You left at such a young age and not a trace of a Yankee accent,” she teased.

Michael laughed. “Trust me, my parents made sure we didn’t forget where we came from.”

Natasha grinned back. “So, you got into construction just like your father?” she asked, rubbing her hands over the deck’s smooth wood.

He gave an ironic chuckle. “Actually, I ended up working in another field for a while. I guess 25 years later I’ve come full circle.”

She detected a strange note in his voice, and was about to question him about it when he reached over to brush some flower petals from her hair. She held her breath as his fingers lingered on the nape of her neck.

“Would you like to go out some time?” he asked huskily, reluctantly dropping his hand back to his side.

Natasha swallowed hard, trying to dampen the wave of lust that threatened to engulf her.

“I…um, I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” she responded, flustered.

A sardonic glint appeared in his brown eyes. “Let me guess, you don’t believe in fraternising with the help?”

Natasha held up a hand. “Please, don’t play the class card,” she retorted. “I’m the product of working class parents and damn proud of it. It’s just that I met you two weeks ago. I don’t know you from Adam!”

He smiled suddenly, clasping one hand over his heart and raising the other. “I swear on all that’s good and holy that I’m not a serial killer, gay, bisexual or currently in a relationship.”

Natasha gave a derisive snort. “Talk is cheap.”

Michael threw back his head and roared with laughter and Natasha was suddenly overcome with an urge to press a kiss against his strong neck. Damn, this is what happens when you’ve gone without for too long, she thought to herself.

“Anyway,” she continued after he had caught his breath, “it wouldn’t look very professional for me to date someone I work with.”

“So it’s settled, then. I’ll take you out when I’m finished my work here,” he stated firmly.

Before she could protest, Michael reached over and traced his thumb along her jaw line. “Have a good day, Tasha,” was all he said before turning back to his designs.

Throwing her hands up in exasperation, Natasha stalked back to the main house. Michael grinned to himself. If ever he needed an incentive to finish this job, a date with the sexy Natasha Taylor was it. As he continued to assemble the upper baluster sections of the gazebo, he thought fleetingly, Brian Goddard’s gonna be pissed.

Trading Hearts Pt. 3

Trading Hearts is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons in coincidental. Photo courtesy of www.islandhideaways.com.


Later that evening, Brian Goddard strolled through the gardens of Emerald Bay House with his business partner and longtime friend Alan King. Realising his companion was in a pensive mood, Brian left him alone with his thoughts and enjoyed the panoramic view spread out before him.

At the end of the fenced-in garden, lush grass gave way to sandy beach and coconut trees. Two wave runners and a dinghy belonging to the property were tied up on the beach, and a few yards away children from a neighbouring property squealed happily as they played in the crystal clear water.

“So, what’s your take on Natasha Taylor?” Alan asked suddenly.

Brian ran a hand through his blond hair. “She seems professional enough, eager to get started. I think she’ll do fine.”

King glanced sideways at his friend. “But?”

Brian smiled wryly. “I can’t hide anything from you. I may be wrong, but I think I sensed something between Ms. Taylor and Michael earlier. What do the romantics call it? Chemistry?”

Alan King laughed heartily. “You’ve been a bachelor for too long, Brian.”
He sobered up after a few seconds. “But seriously, you think a professional woman like Natasha Taylor would be interested in a lowly construction worker?” he asked sceptically.

Brian shrugged. “Stranger things have happened. Opposites attract and all that. Is it going to be a problem?”

Alan rubbed his jaw. “No, I don’t think so. Actually, it might work to our benefit. Once we get started it wouldn’t hurt to have a Taylor on our side.”

Brian nodded. “It certainly was a nice coincidence when I realised the connection. And I also discovered something else Ms. Taylor and ourselves have in common. She used to go out with Matthew Sealy, from our legal firm Whittaker Mason Sealy.”

Alan sucked his teeth. “That brown nosing idiot? Didn’t he dump his longtime girlfriend to marry Stanley Whittaker’s daughter?”

“That would be Natasha Taylor. From what I’ve seen of both women Sealy made the wrong choice,” Brian sniffed reprovingly.

Alan King nodded grimly, taking one more look at the lovely scenery before moving back to the house. “If things go according to plan, Natasha Taylor and her family might be richer than the Whittakers could ever dream of. Seems like Sealy traded in the wrong woman.”


*****

“Dad, you should see this place. It’s something else!” Kim exclaimed as the Taylor family lounged in their living room after dinner. Although Natasha had moved into her own home just after her 30th birthday, she still had dinner with her parents and sister almost every evening.

Frank Taylor grunted, not bothering to look up from reading the newspaper. After 20 years of cleaning pools at luxury homes and hotels, it took a lot to impress him when it came to real estate.

“She’s right, Daddy. This is going to be a big one for us,” Natasha grinned happily. “We’re talking ten bedrooms with full bathrooms, and that’s only in the main house, ‘cause the guest cottage has two bed and baths as well. It’s got a swimming pool with a waterfall and a Jacuzzi spa.”

“And don’t forget the indoor gymn and a theatre that can seat twenty,” Kim added smugly.

Their mother Marie laughed. “You all sound like kids in a candy store. It does sound very posh.”

Natasha sighed blissfully. “Eighteen thousand square feet of heaven. I can see why King Properties moved into the luxury villa market, with all those expats out there wanting a taste of paradise.”

“Speaking of which,” Kim chuckled devilishly, “I wouldn’t mind a taste of gazebo guy, although I think he prefers you, Tasha.”

Marie sat up attentively. “Who’s this?”

Natasha groaned. Since her breakup with Matthew, her mother was on the hunt to find a suitable replacement, much to Natasha’s horror.

Kim continued. “A guy who’s doing some construction work at the house. He’s fineness personified.”

“Ignore her, Mum. Remember, you always said never to let our eyes go shopping for our hearts.” Natasha aimed a dirty look at her sister, who feigned innocence.

Marie giggled like a school girl. “Well, if he’s as hot as Kim says try and whip out the credit card, girl!”

Natasha blushed furiously as Marie and Kim rolled around in hysterics. Frank decided to come to his elder daughter’s rescue.

“Don’t mind them, Tasha. Don’t bring no more men ‘round here till you’re ready. I still have an *ss whipping for that boy Matthew. He lucky I trying to walk right with Jesus,” he fumed.

At the mention of Matthew Sealy’s name Marie sobered up. “That reminds me,” she began, wiping her eyes, “I ran into Iris yesterday and she asked for you.”

Natasha smiled faintly at the mention of Matthew’s mother. “I need to give her and the others a call.”

Her mother nodded. “They miss you. She’s still upset about how Matthew treated you.”

“But she relies on him to keep the family afloat financially, so she has to toe the line,” Natasha added bluntly. “It’s all good though, Mum,” she added hastily when she saw the concerned look on Marie’s face. “That fool did me a favour. If we were still together I’d probably be barefoot and pregnant, depending on him to bring home the bacon instead of a running my own company. One thing he taught me is that I need to rely on myself, not a man.”

“And you are a highly successful business woman,” Marie conceded. “But child, you still need some romance in your life. All work and no play isn’t good at all.”

“Neither is mixing business with pleasure,” Natasha added firmly. “I’ll admit this Michael guy’s easy on the eyes, but I’m not about to appear unprofessional to Brian Goddard. Remember, if we can impress him by doing a good job with Emerald Bay, King Properties has over 100 more listings out there we might have access to.”

Marie sighed. “I hear you, daughter mine. Just remember, you only live once. Don’t let any chance for happiness pass you by.”

“Or at least some mind-blowing sex,” Kim said under her breath.

Struggling to keep a straight face, Natasha bade her family goodbye and headed home.