Following our talk on the rock, Ana leads me down yet another trail to a parking lot where our car and driver are waiting for us. During our hike, Ana arranged to have our bags packed and picked up by our driver. We head for Frankfurt. We arrive back to our city hotel in time to grab a quick bite, shower, and dress for the afternoon at GEH's German headquarters.
Ana is dead on with her prediction that the German team would have a full plan of action in place to right their listing ship. I am satisfied with the detailed strategies that they will be implementing going forward. I cannot remember a time when I arrived at a meeting with such disappointing data only to leave feeling this optimistic. And to think, I fired zero people throughout this ordeal. This is another first for me.
By dinner time, we are back at our hotel. Ana and I discuss whether we want to fly out for Seattle now versus waiting until morning. My selfish preference is to stay in Frankfurt for the evening. I can arrange for the hearts and flowers kind of evening that Ms. Steele deserves. Of course, I keep my devious reasoning to myself. Instead, I offer half-hearted concerns about my pilot Stefan having time to get transatlantic flight clearance and such. Unaware of my plotting, Ana lobbies for us to leave this evening citing reduced carbon usage, etc. Just as I prepare to fake call Stefan and pretend that a weather pattern is grounding us until morning, Taylor enters my suite baring unwelcome news.
"Sir, there is word from the French coast that one of the 672 prototypes had an incident at sea. First reports indicate there was an engine fire."
"Was anyone hurt?"
"No reports of injuries, sir, but the incident has been picked up by several news organizations. The press is really taking aim at GEH on this one."
"Where is the boat now?"
"It was towed to port in the French village Brinard. It's adjacent to Saint Malo."
I nod in recognition. I met my sister Mia once for a weekend in Saint Malo. I piggybacked the visit on a London business trip. The area is just south of the British Channel Islands off the English Channel.
"Get me all of the details that you can. I want to know where the 672 was when the fire broke out. I want to know who was at the helm as well as the extent of the damage. Call Brooks with our maritime insurance partner. Tell him that we will need his lead investigators to get boots on the ground ASAP. We need to get ahead of this story. See if Stefan can get clearance for us to land at the same airport we used when we met up with Mia. If not, advise him to get clearance as close as he can."
Taylor cleared his throat as though he had something more to say.
"Yes?"
"Sir, there will be no way to keep your arrival out of the press. I've already got Sawyer, Reynolds, and Ryan in the air to join us."
"Excellent, good thinking. Is there anything else?"
"Just the issue of your sister, sir."
"Mia? What has she got to do with all of this? Don't tell me that she was on the boat when it caught fire."
"No, sir. Mia is safe in your flat in Paris."
Taylor pauses as I process what this means. The last thing that a GEH scandal needs is the presence of the fabulous Mia Grey. Mia is the best sister ever had, but with Mia comes chaos and a bizarre propensity to attract attention without even trying. While my little sister's heart lies with furthering her French education in cookery, her personality makes her an international style icon. Mia has spent years getting the culinary world to take her seriously. Although she has studied under some of the world's foremost chefs, the press continues to paint her as a jet-setting party girl. If Mia goes to Rome for instruction, the tabloids create a story about her being in Milan for Fashion Week. When Mia was working ten hours days in the famous kitchens of Monsieur Floubert, the paparazzi would sneak pictures of her returning home and say she had a wild night of binge drinking. Mia Grey is my wonderful little sister, but I need guarantees that she will be kept as far from the boat disaster as possible.
"Inform our Paris security that Mia is not to be allowed out of the 4th arrondissement. Bring in extra men if you think this incident will increase her paparazzi coverage. Make sure that Mia stays in Paris. Do whatever is necessary."
"Yes, sir. I will take care of Mia as well as get up with Stefan and let you know when we have a flight plan."
I turn to an amused Ana. Knowing that whatever is happening is big, she has kindly poured each of us a glass of wine. She hands me mine and leads me to the sofa so that I can explain.
"The 672 is a luxury sailing vessel that GEH is looking to put into production. I own the first one ever built for my own personal use. We created five additional prototypes that are currently sailing the seven seas. We have our own captains and crew taking them through a variety of conditions to recommend improvements and design changes. Getting the project to this point has been very expensive. The boat serves to be a game changer in the luxury yachting world, but any bad press could kill this project before it even makes it to market."
Ana nods in understanding.
"So, it sounds like you want to go check out the boat in person and give the media some positive sound bites. Am I right?"
"Exactly. I also want to make sure that we can get our own people aboard the boat to investigate what happened. Having this happen in foreign waters means that we have less control over how the investigation is handled. I have always insisted that GEH is 100 percent transparent with all investigations.'
"But you can't guarantee transparency or even thoroughness if your people are not part of that process, right?" Ana takes a sip of her wine. It amazes me how well Ana gets me.
"I know that we were just making plans to head home. If you want, I can put you on a commercial flight back to Seattle tonight. You have been away long enough. You certainly didn't sign up for crisis control in France when you came on this trip."
"Would it be helpful to have your assistant with you in France?" She asks.
"Absolutely, but I do not want you to feel obligated to come with me. I can always have another member of the admin team come to replace you if you are ready to get back home."
Please say you'll come with me. Please say you'll come with me. Please say you'll come with me.
"I've already traveled this far with you. I might as well see this trip through to the end," she says with a cheeky grin that lets me know that business isn't the only reason that she is agreeing to travel on to France with me.
While we wait for word on our flight, Ana books us into a holiday rental home with adequate security and privacy. The gaited holiday rental is frequently used by international celebrities and boasts a full-time staff. The home is large enough for our security detail, too. It is nearly eleven o'clock before we get word that our plane is ready. We leave the hotel in a heavily tinted SUV which delivers us directly onto the tarmac. I sigh and rub the back of my neck. I hope that Ms. Steele is ready for security threat level black. This will be her first experience being front and center at what has the potential to be an international incident.
Our flight into the north of France takes an hour and a half. It is well past two in the morning when another blacked out SUV delivers us to the holiday rental. Even I am impressed with the accommodations that Ana arranged on such short notice. The home is a stone Victorian with a wall surrounding the property. The home sits on a perch over the water with several levels and a terrace in the back.
We head to find our rooms. Ana giggles when I pull her into the master suite.
"What will Taylor say bout us sharing a room?" she teases.
"Taylor is paid well enough to say nothing, ma'lady."
I wrap my arms around her waist and give her a long kiss that she answers with an approving hum. Ana declines my invitation to join me in the shower. When I exit the bathroom, she is wearing a cute-as-fuck set of Wonder Woman pajamas. The tight boy shorts and tank cling to her in such a sweet, unassuming way. She heads in to brush her teeth while I throw on pajama pants with no shirt. Try to resist these muscles, baby!
After a heavy make out session where I make it to first base, I can't help but notice how tired my beautiful angel is. Her warm, little body is a soothing balm for a good day that spiraled into a shit of a night. It seems like weeks ago and not just hours that we were lying together on the rock in the Black Forest.