Free Hawaiian Affair (Part 1 of 4) (Hawaiian Affair - 30 days to sign the deal - and stay out of love) by Debbie Flint

was only because he couldn’t give a monkey’s
about anyone but himself. But thank the lord she’d got her girls.
    Unlike
her Hot Boat Guy, who didn’t seem to be bothered about his looks at all. He
hadn’t even shaved for tonight.
    Unlike
Sadie.
    Unusually,
Sadie didn’t mind his stubble - she liked it – a lot. She liked him – a
lot.
    As
she listened to another one of his funny ‘life at sea’ anecdotes, she wondered
who else had felt the same about Mac through the years. There must have been a
broken heart somewhere down the line, perhaps that’s when he stopped making
‘those plans’.
    No,
he really didn’t seem like a player.
    Right
now, he wasn’t even making any attempt to ‘play her’. It was simple, honest
attraction, with no holding back and no games. No deception, just the way she
liked it – ‘honesty’ wasn’t tattooed in Chinese on her lower back for nothing.
Well, apart from the little white lie about her name.
    But
he’d never know, would he.
    She
smiled as they spoke, aware that he couldn’t take his eyes off her mouth, or
his arm off her shoulder. He’d even angled himself completely away from the
rest of the room - everyone else could only see his back – he was giving her
his total attention. In fact, much of the night, his gaze never left her face,
apart from the occasional look over his shoulder and a scan of the crowd in a
way Sadie found curious. Maybe he expected to see someone…
     
     
     
    Mac
was on the lookout. Old habit. Just in case anyone saw him - anyone he had to
avoid. Usually female. There was a close call when a group of glamorous
model-types stumbled past on their way to the VIP area on the other side of the
bar, just as Mac turned round, and one of them in a tight red dress did a
double-take.  Mac dipped his head quickly, but not before she’d taken a step
closer.  When she spotted Sadie, however, she halted, looked quizzical then
walked on with her friends, her quip in French, just audible to Mac’s straining
ears,
    ‘Can’t
be, not dressed like that. Anyway, he usually has a young cover-girl on his
arm, not someone like her. Probably just looks a bit like him, that’s all.’
     Mac
froze. How dare they insult his companion like that. If he wasn’t ‘under
cover’, he’d have taken great pleasure in telling them that she was more
beautiful than any cover girl.
      Then he realised with a jolt that the
insult was really for him. He felt shallow, superficial.  Was he really that
clichéd?
    Suddenly
a sledgehammer blow caught him in the gut, bringing with it the sad realisation
that that was precisely what he was.
    He’d
never been amidst public opinion before, in this way, hearing sheer honesty,
rather than the sanitised, filtered version the Über-rich usually heard. How
sad that this playboy persona was all he boiled down to in their eyes. And
they’d been right – his arm candy was usually a carefully groomed size
Zero – with a personality to match. No wonder he’d stopped finding them
attractive.
    And
as for his playboy image?
    Well
let’s see if the new plans would finally change all that.
    His
companion was regaling him with some information about a health food product
she’d recently discovered, animated and enthusiastic, and he watched her red
lips pouting and pursing as she spoke. He wasn’t really listening.
    Would she care about what other people thought? Probably not.
    The
topic of discussion had got to the stage where those red lips were adamantly
advocating that the scientific press should ‘grow some’. She was enchanting. 
    Later,
when the music slowed down, he asked Sadie if she danced.
    ‘You
mean, am I capable of it? Or would I like to?’ she chuckled.
    ‘Come
on, come dance with me. I’m not very good but let’s give it a go.’ Hmm,
still the self-doubt creeping in.   Why was it so important to him to make a
good impression on her?   She certainly was unlike any of the others he’d been
with – ever. But