One

Misha

Nothing felt better than lounging on a beach in Hawaii, drinking a Mai Tai and enjoying flaky white fish tacos. In a bikini. Yep, I could say without a doubt that nothing in life felt better than this. At least not in recent memory. I mean sure, my clients were still climbing to the top of the proverbial career ladder but that was on them. I just helped them unlock whatever blocked their success.

This trip was my treat for another successful contract. When Nick Leather lost his muse, he hadn’t been able to finish his first solo album after his boy band, Boys of Summer, disbanded. He and the record label were convinced he might end up as just a footnote in music history if the album wasn’t completed. So, I signed a six-month contract and worked with the twenty-one-year-old, after assuring him that fixing him would not extend to his poor neglected libido. Because of his young age, I tried something a little different and three months in, the album had been completed and the studio was grateful. They dismissed me with a smile and a check for the full six months as a show of gratitude.

With no other clients lined up I treated myself to ten days in paradise. Sun, surf and poolside cocktails had been my life for five days already and after that morning’s hour-long massage I felt like I was floating on air. No, not just floating but completely free and relaxed. I loved my job, loved that I could take someone who’d fallen off their predetermined path to success and help them get back on without missing a beat. As much as I loved my job it did take a lot out of me, emotionally and physically. It was draining to give a damn about people in that way. To give them everything and have them walk away. To make miracles happen when none seemed possible. I wouldn’t give it up for anything and these regular vacations made sure I was always refreshed and ready for the next client.

But with no clients on the horizon I could stay here as long as I wanted, or find another destination that appealed to me. But right now, all I wanted was sun, cocktails and food. Lots of food.

Before I left the islands, I thought about going cave diving, swimming with sharks and I really wanted to see an active volcano. And a luau, I had to attend a luau before I left Hawaii. Plans and schedules weren’t really my thing though, I liked to see where a day could take me.

Yesterday, it took me hang gliding with two honeymooning couples, the day before that, I went ziplining in a dense forested area and the day before that it had taken me to a coffee farm. But I had the time to do it all.

If I could ever move from this spot on the beach.

The low ring of my phone startled me out of my reverie and with a groan, I dug it out of my purse. I smiled at the screen and hit the button. “Jax Mahoney, what can I do for you?”

“How do you know I didn’t call just to say hi?” His deep voice sounded amused but I knew Jax well.

“Because your phone manners are worse than mine and you’d never waste time on small talk.”

He laughed and the sound was low and thick, like smooth scotch. “Fine. My brother Ethan needs your special brand of ass kicking.” Jax filled me in about Ethan’s problems since he’d given Samantha Stevens a piece of his mind on live television, though he didn’t need to because I’d seen it for myself. At least ten times. The man was gorgeous and he’d given it to her so good I couldn’t help but root for him. “Nothing has worked, hell it might have just made things worse. He needs you Misha, can you do it?”

“Why now?” Six months had passed since the interview was aired around the world.

“Stocks are falling and Ethan knows he needs to do something, but none of us knows what that is. You do.”

I sighed over the line, interested but reluctant to take on Ethan Mahoney. I would love to work with him as a case study. Since the man had become rich as hell with a healthy living brand I had doubts his problem was drugs or alcohol, but that only made things more interesting. Then again, handsome billionaires were already difficult to work with, and a guy like Ethan, who was an ex-model, surely expected to be adored and maybe even worshipped. That wasn’t how I worked, but if Jax thought I was needed then I probably was. “How soon does he need me and how long will my services be required?”

“As soon as possible,” he said, voice thick with relief. “The contract will end when Ethan has successfully completed five interviews ending with another sit down with Samantha Stevens.”

So, indefinite. Those jobs were the most exhausting.

“Money is no object here, Misha.”

Yeah, I knew that. I knew all about the billionaire Mahoney boys, three disgustingly rich brothers all successful in their own right. Every single one of them handsome and philanthropic. “Okay yes Jax, I’ll do it. I should be back in California to meet with Ethan by the beginning of next week. Give him my number and tell him to expect to hear from me in the next couple days.” I added his number to my phone as Jax rattled it off. “He’s on board with this, right Jax?”

“Mostly,” he admitted sheepishly.

Great. That meant I needed to make contact sooner rather than later to gauge his interest. Since he didn’t call me himself, I knew this would be a circumstance where we’d spend the first week or so convincing him that I knew my shit. Just great. “Okay.”

“Thank you, Misha. Good luck.”

“No problem. Thanks for throwing business my way.” Jax had been a steady source of referrals since I worked with Brady Adams a few years back.

“Your results speak for themselves. Enjoy wherever you are.”

“Hawaii, so if you’ll excuse me I have some sun and cocktails being neglected over here.” Jax laughed and we said our goodbyes before disconnecting the call.

With a sigh, I leaned back and watched the crash of the waves, clearing my mind of all thoughts work related.

Work would come soon enough.