Skinny Dipping (Skinny Sagas) Read online

  Eve shrugged. “He’s better, pulling himself together. Do you want to wait?”

  Sophie peered round the reception. “I guess I don’t have much choice. I can stay until eight-thirty.”

  “I’m terribly sorry about what happened. How much do you know about the pool chain?”

  “A bit.”

  “I’m helping Matthew out temporarily as his personal assistant, but I’m actually the resident swimming coach here. I'm happy to help explain anything or answer questions.”

  “Okay. Sounds great.”

  Eve clasped her hands together. “I have an idea. Do you like swimming? I can give you a pool tour.”

  Sophie grinned. Eve was the right person for the job; cooperative, available and friendly. She was obviously striving to remedy the strained situation with Matthew. There was one slight problem.

  “I’m not really good with water. I don’t want to go much closer.” She released a breath. “But I’m keen to hear more about the coaching here. More information could be useful for the campaign.”

  “Well, I’m the primary instructor in this centre. Matthew also coached when he was younger. I’m positive he’d rather teach than run a corporation. Before his sabbatical, when his father ran the empire, Matthew instructed when he probably should have been attending to other parts of the business. The fact is, he loves the water. Matthew was even a serious racer before everything happened. Then he kind of changed. It’s so sad….” Eve’s voice trailed off and her gaze dropped to the counter. She shifted papers. “He doesn’t swim much anymore.”

  “I see….” Sophie’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t know he raced.”

  “He doesn’t publicise it.” Eve waved her hand. “For a period after the accident, you’d be lucky to see him walk through those doors.” She gestured to the turnstiles which presumably led to the pool.

  “Accident?”

  Eve leaned conspiratorially over the counter. “Being his consultant I presume you’ve heard about the accident and Matthew vanishing afterward? He simply stopped working and withdrew from his duties. Of course everyone understood. But with his dad getting older and then becoming sick, Matthew had to come back. He really let go of the reigns for far too long. Now the hotel chain is in serious financial trouble and his dad’s too ill to help out. So lately Matthew’s constantly shooting off to Brighton to sort things out.”

  “I can see why he’s so busy at Brighton. He mustn’t have time anymore to swim. He must miss it.”

  “He’s consumed with the hotel chain. It was probably more to do with Rebecca.”

  “Rebecca?” Sophie probed, encouraging elaboration.

  “Come and look.” Eve skirted the reception desk, beckoning Sophie to a large, glass trophy cabinet. “These medals are all Matthew’s. He was pretty good. Really good. In fact, people were talking about the Olympics.”

  As Sophie inspected the medals Eve gave her a sidelong glance. “You know, Sophie,” Eve started. “I’m qualified to assist people who have a fear. If you just had one lesson with me we could sort some issues out.”

  Sophie shot her a look and hunched. “Am I that transparent?”

  “I noticed you standing outside the front door for an eternity. I could book you in for a lesson.”

  “Ah…nope. No, not really my thing. I just couldn’t get into the water.” Her voice trilled. “No chance of getting me even close to the edge. No way. No thank you.”

  “Really?” A shocked voice echoed round the reception room. “Why not?”

  Sophie spun round. Her hand flew to her chest. She gasped in shock as she recognised the man standing in reception. Astonished, she blinked, perhaps this was a hallucination. But regarding the tall frame, the slim physique and the blonde hair, there was no mistake. This newcomer was the same person from last night, the Porsche owner.

  “What on earth are you doing here?” she stammered. “This is quite a coincidence.”

  “I could ask you the same question.” His blue eyes danced. “I thought you adored water, being an avid surf lover and all. If I knew you better, I’d even think you owned a surf wallet. Velcro perhaps?”

  Sophie's heart beat wildly in her chest. “I never actually said I liked the surf. My niece thought I might like the purse.” Sophie darted a bewildered glance at Eve.

  “You’ve met.” Eve stalked behind the counter and sighed.

  Clarity shot through Sophie’s mind like a bullet train. This man, with the flaring temper and the outrageous propositions was the elusive Matthew Silver.

  She struggled to lift her jaw as Eve frowned at Sophie. “You conned me into believing he stood you up,” Eve remarked.

  “He did stand me up.” Sophie slanted her eyes toward the man. She diverted her gaze from hovering on the t-shirt, which clung to his athletic frame. His muscular shoulders and arms were now exposed without his tuxedo jacket. “You didn’t come to the gala,” Sophie insisted.

  “Ah.” He waggled his finger. “But I did. You saw me there. You even fixed my tie.”

  “But….” she stammered.

  He extended his hand. “I tried to tell you we weren’t strangers,” he remarked. “I'm pleased to meet you, Sophie Smart.”

  She stared at his face. “Matthew Silver.” She didn’t need a memory game to recall his name. Oh no. Last night’s events were stamped into her mind.

  Nearby, Eve rolled her eyes and busied herself with some papers.

  Sophie glared. “Was it all a game to you? Going all the way to the hotel, running into me and not bothering to introduce yourself?” She placed one hand on her hip and tapped her foot.

  “I’m surprised you haven’t looked me up on the internet?”

  “Do you want to be my Facebook friend?”

  “You should recognise your most important client.” His lip twitched, only slightly, but she saw the tremor. “Miss Smart, I recognised you.”

  “I don’t think you did, or you would have said something,” she challenged. “If we became Facebook friends I could check out your profile pictures and develop a deep connection. I could also keep up with your movements by reading your status updates. Then I’d be fully aware if you were leaving me in the lurch.”

  “I did meet you outside the hotel and I’ve gotten to know you quite well, don’t you think? After all, I can list the entire contents of your Mary Poppins bag.”

  Sophie reddened and inspected her handbag. “It’s my favourite.” Her gaze settled on his.

  “The colour matches your shoes perfectly,” he mocked. “There are a few steps around. Do be careful you don’t trip. There’s a step back there, and another one over there.”

  Sophie crossed her arms. “Do you realise that it took half a day of manically phoning around to get your gala ticket, especially since you accepted my invitation so late? If you’d changed your mind, you should have said. I have other clients who were dying to go with me.”

  “Dying, were they?” His voice was sugary.

  “Yes.” She realised he was almost laughing. “You’re enjoying this.”

  He widened his eyes in innocence. “Only in the same way that I look forward to your annoying daily messages.”

  “Annoying?” she barked. “I’d call my attitude proactive.”

  “I meant friendly. Now that you've found the centre, maybe we should have a daily meeting instead? You and me, here, at the pool.”

  A strong urge soared through her to cuff him behind the ears. “We had a scheduled meeting last night. I moved house right beforehand. You should have called.”

  “You make it sound like we’re married.” Matthew grinned, not looking even slightly shamefaced.

  “Is that all you’re going to say?” Sophie wiped her forehead in frustration. She inhaled deeply in an attempt to find her sense of calm.

  “Something came up.”

  She forced a smile. “I’m not happy.” Her lips were tense and tight. Think sales, think winner.

  “It won’t happen again. I am really trul
y sorry for not being more reliable.”

  “An apology, at last.” She started slow, keeping her voice even. “It would make me happier still if we could discuss ideas for your campaign so we can start on your project.”

  Dimples emerged on each of his cheeks. “Okay, well, I want to make you happy so I think we can do that.”

  She eyed him carefully, wondering whether she’d heard right. Matthew Silver had cooperated, with her. This must be some kind of breakthrough. “Great,” she said.

  “Ready?” He grinned. Matthew led Sophie away from the counter and gestured expansively. “Here goes. Welcome to the centre. As you know, this is the flagship pool for the swimming chain, and our head office. I hope you’ll enjoy being here. Is there a swimsuit in your Mary Poppins bag by any chance, Sophie?”

  “Um…no.” Why on earth would she bring a swimsuit to a business meeting? “I’m here to talk about your campaign, to complete the Ideas Generation Stage.”

  Matthew rubbed his chin. “My first idea is for you to get a pool membership.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “That way, we can see much more of each other and talk about the campaign. Eve, can you possibly create a complimentary membership for Sophie?”

  Eve glanced up from the reception counter and a curious expression crossed her face. “Sure, Matthew, I’ll make one up now,” she responded.

  Sophie wrung her hands. “Matthew, thanks,” she started, frantically searching her mind for the right phraseology. “I won’t need a membership. I’m here to discuss ideas. Strictly ideas. I won’t be swimming.”

  “But this is what the advertising campaign is all about. Did you know our membership doubled after your last campaign, ‘Swimming is for Living’?”

  “Fantastic,” she said. “Let’s double memberships again. This time we'll need a fresh, new campaign.”

  “Should we do something with surfing or the beach?”

  Sophie narrowed her eyes, was this about the surf wallet? “If you would like to. I can definitely sit with my team and whip up a campaign with a beach theme.”

  “Maybe something with a beach, though of course we'll need to show the pool, after all we are selling the idea of swimming at the pool chain. Have you been here before? If not, I’ll give you the pool tour.”

  “It’s okay, I’m fine,” Sophie dissembled. “We’re doing really well discussing the project right here. Let’s just continue this back and forth.”

  “I insist. We can continue while I show you the pool.” Matthew beckoned her to the turnstile.

  Sophie ambled to the gate and froze. Panic crawled up her spine and sweat formed on her brow. She was losing control of the situation, losing control of the client. “I’m not sure this is absolutely necessary,” she said.

  She was yet to push the turnstile and Matthew’s forehead creased as he observed her. He reached for her bag. “Let me take that for you. Eve can watch it while she prepares your membership.”

  There was almost a tug-of-war moment between the pair. The strap crushed between her fingers as she gripped the bag like a safety blanket. Matthew awkwardly released her bag, Sophie’s fingers refused to uncoil.

  “I’ve got it. It’s okay,” Sophie said. Her voice was shrill from her position at the turnstile; the pool was now in view. Eerie splashing sounds tinkered in her ears. She jumped as she heard a whistle blow.

  Sophie closed her eyes momentarily, blocking the sight of a handsome lifeguard. Think of the lifeguard’s six-pack. “I can do this,” Sophie whispered. She accelerated through the turnstile, heading for the large glass doors that led to the pool area.

  Sophie ignored the sight of rippling water. Instead she focused on Matthew’s tapering back, seeking security in the reassuring flex of his muscles. Her legs wobbled as she trudged. If she fell in, she could at least look forward to a dreamy rescue. No. No. She wasn’t getting close enough for that to happen. Not an option. Chlorine assaulted her nostrils, and she wrinkled her nose, stopping only a few strides from the turnstile.

  She scanned the area wildly. The dreaded pool had eight enormous lanes already trafficked with swimmers churning the water. People of all shapes and sizes swam back and forth. Sophie assessed the large concrete perimeter surrounding the pool. She was far enough from the water – just.

  “Nice place,” she called to Matthew who was standing at least ten paces ahead. Sophie lingered in her position of safety.

  Eventually Matthew turned back and strode to join her. She looked up and away from his gaze, squinting as sunlight streamed inside. The roof was constructed from glass panels, peaking into an apex to create an impressive vaulted canopy over the entire building.

  Matthew followed her gaze. “The pool is heated. We use a heat pump and up there you'll see solar panels are installed to assist energy consumption. They help us be more energy conscious….” He gestured around. “We’re really proud of the Highbury Aquatic Centre. As you know, the swimming chain is the least profitable part of the Silver group. But this centre in Highbury has an important function in the community, teaching children and adults how to swim.” Matthew indicated the kids diving into the water from starting blocks.

  Her heart thumped as she watched. She shuddered with terror yet she couldn’t look away. “Great,” Sophie replied, mustering effort to sound enthusiastic.

  “The pool’s fifty metres long and the water is deepest at the other side. You and I are now near the shallow end. Can you swim?” Matthew scrutinised her, waiting for a reaction.

  Sophie’s chest constricted. “It’s not important, is it?” She floundered for the appropriate answer.

  “Can you swim?” He reiterated his query.

  Sophie expelled a large breath. “I splash,” she admitted.

  Matthew folded his arms. “At no stage when you’ve been on my advertising account did you mention you couldn’t swim. I don’t usually miss a trick, especially one like that.”

  “I guess you were abroad for eighteen months so we haven’t had too many opportunities to talk.” Sophie talked rapidly now, barely pausing for a beat. “I reveal campaign strategies for your business, not my personal life experiences – my life is absolutely irrelevant to generating sales. So the question of whether I swim or like the water never really came up. Besides, I like the water. I just don’t like being in it; there’s a subtle difference.”

  “What do you like about the water?”

  “I like pictures and photographs. The sound of a flowing waterfall is relaxing. It’s mesmerising to hear waves crashing on the beach. My concern is more related to choking in the water.” Sophie drew a shaky breath. “Even a bathtub, in my mind, is enough to drown in.”

  Matthew shook his head. “What do you do in hot weather?” His blue eyes twinkled.

  “A shower’s perfectly acceptable – or a sprinkler sometimes helps me cool down.”

  Matthew ran his hand through his hair, his dimpled smile fading. “Your last campaign was so good. Your conviction about the campaign, so believable….”

  “I believed in the campaign.”

  “I see,” he sighed. “Tell me again, what’s the motto you came up with?”

  She stared at him. He knew the motto by heart. They both did. “‘Swimming is for Living’,” Sophie said slowly.

  “It doesn’t seem like you really believe that? Not truly.”

  “I do. I genuinely believe people should learn how to swim, at the very least so they don’t drown. That’s the campaign that worked to sell to your target market.”

  Matthew raised his finger, making a point. “Yet, since that campaign you haven’t started learning. So it wasn’t really effective. A zero percent success rate with someone who supposedly believes people should learn how to swim.”

  Sophie felt a surge of panic. Was he backing her into a corner? “I personally don’t fit into the same category as the average person. I can’t learn, you see. I’ve got a phobia. I have different circumstances from most ordinary people,�
�� she said, speaking quickly to smooth the conversation.

  “Well knowing how to swim is a pretty important professional requirement for me, considering what happened eighteen months ago.” Matthew's attitude jolted. His voice was now harsh.

  Sophie bit her lip. “What happened eighteen months ago?”

  He paused. “How old are you?” He didn’t answer the question, she noted.

  “Does it matter…? How old are you?”

  “Twenty-eight. Now you?” Matthew persisted.

  Sophie blew out a breath. “Twenty-five.”

  “When’s your birthday?”

  “Next June.”

  “So that’s our goal.” His voice was soft but filled with conviction. “You'll master swimming before you turn twenty six.”

  “Our goal?” Sophie squeaked. “Matthew, I don’t have the time to fit in swimming lessons. I can't do it.”

  “You can’t, or won’t?”

  Sophie folded her arms and constructed her next argument. “I’m very good at my job. Swimming is absolutely no reflection on my ability.”

  “You must have suffered from some kind of trauma to be so afraid of water….”

  She gulped and looked at the ground, Eve had guessed she had a fear of water and now Matthew Silver was right on the money. Sophie cursed herself for being so transparent. “I had an accident when I was young. I drowned. I was down so long I actually died. Fortunately, I was resuscitated and there was no brain damage. I’m lucky to be alive.” Regret formed in the pit of her stomach. What moment of madness had possessed her to visit the swimming centre?

  “I see.”

  “How long have you known how to swim?”

  “I can’t remember not swimming. I love everything about swimming and the feel of the water against my skin. It’s like I was born the wrong animal.”

  “So, you’re a natural. You've never had any kind of trauma or fear. You also said your favorite animal is a dolphin.” Sophie smiled. “Well my favorite animal is a lion. A lioness, if I’m going to get gender-specific.”

  “Man eater.”

  “Possibly,” she managed a smile. Her fear was absolutely real. People did have true phobias. Fear of spiders. Arachnophobia. Fear of small spaces. Claustrophobia. Fear of being tickled by feathers. Pteronophobia. Seriously, there were people out there scared of being tickled by feathers, yet Matthew and the rest of the swimming community thought she had problems? People became scared of all sorts of things. Drowning and choking to death in water was a real fear, her phobia.