Chapter Fifteen
Asher
I awoke with a slight pounding in my head. We'd definitely had far too much to drink the night before. Lilah was lying next to me, sleeping soundly. My eyes roamed appreciatively over her exquisite curves—those that were revealed outside of the sheets, at least. I leaned over and glanced at the clock on her bedside table. It was just after 5:00 in the morning: the time I usually woke up.
The last thing I wanted to do was leave, but I needed to get back to my place. Bryce would be waiting to begin our training session in an hour, and he would have no sympathy for me being late for any reason beyond one that involved a life and death situation.
I tried to ease out of Lilah's bed, not wanting to wake her. Memories of what we had done together the previous night were blasting through my mind. Certain parts of my anatomy began coming to life rather quickly, but I didn't want to disturb her from what looked like a very restful slumber.
I gathered my clothes, crept out of the room as quietly as I could, and pulled the door closed quietly behind me. I got dressed in the living room, where I'd left my wallet and keys the night before. I thought about leaving her a note, but couldn’t find anything to write on and I wasn’t about to start snooping through drawers. I slipped out of her apartment, making sure the door was locked behind me.
The streets were quiet and relatively empty at such an early hour, so I was able to drive fast. To try to clear my head of the thoughts of Lilah and our steamy encounter, I focused on the speed and thrill of pushing my Maserati to its limits, which demanded sheer and utter concentration. I reached home just before 6:00. I managed to get to my gym, where Bryce was already waiting with a scowl on his face, just after the top of the hour. In Bryce’s eyes, even a minute late was late. And, I paid for it.
During my post-workout shower, my phone rang. Everything in my home was connected to a central media system, so I simply leaned across the shower and hit the answer button. I was hoping that it would be Lilah's voice that came through the quadrophonic speakers installed across the bathroom, but it wasn't.
“Mr. Sinclair, it's Carlos Cerros.”
I arched an eyebrow, surprised by the fact I was getting a call from Carlos. Carlos was the manager of an eco-tourist wildlife sanctuary I'd set up in Costa Rica. My grandfather had always been a benevolent man with his wealth and seeing all the good he had done. I felt it was my duty to use at least some of my wealth for good causes, as well, such as saving virgin rainforest and preserving endangered species. I visited every few months when I needed to get away from city life and work.
“Hi, Carlos, how's everything down at the sanctuary?”
“We've got problems, Mr. Sinclair, big problems.”
From the tone of his voice I could tell it was serious.
“It's been raining for two days, and the river is rising. Things didn’t look critical until a few hours ago. Now, it's looking like the river is going to flood the visitor's center and possibly destroy some of the offices, probably within the next 12 to 15 hours. Some of the animals in rehab might drown, too. We don't have enough manpower to sandbag everything in time and move them to higher ground as well.”
“Oh no.”
“We need help, Mr. Sinclair, and we need it desperately. If you've got any connections here—”
“No, I can’t say that I do. But this is an emergency, so I'm coming myself. I'll bring reinforcements with me. I'll call up some people I know, and we'll charter a flight immediately. Hang on, Carlos, do what you can. We'll be there as soon as possible.”
“Thank you, Mr. Sinclair. We'll do everything we can until you get here.”
I cut off the call and immediately brought up the contacts menu on the touch screen in the shower. I knew exactly who to call, and what to do. The only question would be whether we could get there in time.
There wasn’t a moment to waste. I had to get on this immediately. Calling Lilah, as much as I wanted to do that, would simply have to wait.
***
It was well after midnight when I finally got some rest. We'd been shoveling, digging, and hauling things around in the mud all day and night. The river had overflowed its banks but, thankfully, the floods hadn’t been as severe as anticipated. We'd managed over the course of the afternoon and evening to get all of the injured animals to safety and to sandbag the buildings on the lower-lying areas to protect them against damage from the rising waters. It had been an incredibly strenuous day, and I found myself whispering a silent thank you to Bryce for keeping me in peak physical condition. Without my fitness and strength, I would have collapsed hours ago.
Sitting there in the aftermath, though, I was on the verge of collapse as were all of the other members of the team I'd brought with me on my private jet. I had no idea how Carlos and the local workers were still conscious. They'd been doing it since the early hours of the morning and were still up, smiling and joking in Spanish as they mopped the sweat from their brows and brushed the mud from their coveralls and boots.
Carlos walked up to me with two bottles of beer in his hands. He offered me one with a grin on his face.
“Cerveza, Mr. Sinclair? You have earned it today, my friend!”
“I'll take that, thanks!”
He popped the cap off and handed me the ice-cold bottle. I wrapped my fingers around the beads of condensation. I could almost taste the refreshment just by looking at it. It would be just the thing I needed to knock the edge off of the jungle humidity that was combined with the sweat from all of the physical exertion of the day.
“Salud!” exclaimed Carlos as he clinked his bottle against mine.
“Salud!” I replied with a grin and drank a mouthful of the cold, refreshing liquid.
“You and your team really saved the day here, Mr. Sinclair,” Carlos said after he downed a mouthful of his beer. “We're grateful that you came here yourself to help.”
“I wouldn't have had it any other way, Carlos. And, don't give us all the credit. You and your team have been working since before sunrise. You guys put in far more effort, with far less manpower, for far longer. I think we all know who the real heroes are here.”
He smiled and drank another swig of his beer.
“Thank you, Mr. Sinclair. I appreciate that,” he said humbly.
“I appreciate everything you guys are doing down here. The ownership papers of this place might be in my name, but it's you guys who run things who have made this place the success it is—and don't you forget that.”
“Thank you, Mr. Sinclair. I'll tell the team.”
“And, tell them they can drink whatever they want tonight: it's on me. They've earned it, many times over.”
“I'll tell them, Mr. Sinclair. Thank you.”
“Just relax and have a good time. Make sure nobody overdoes it, though. We're going to have a lot of work to do tomorrow, on top of what we've already done. I think my team and I will have to stay here until Tuesday to get the cleanup operations done.”
“Should I get the staff to prepare the presidential suite for you then, Mr. Sinclair?”
“No, don't worry about that. I'll just sleep in the regular cabins.”
“All right. See you tomorrow, Mr. Sinclair, bright and early.”
“See you then, Carlos.”
I watched him walk out into the darkness of the jungle, took the last swallow of my beer, crawled into the nearest cot, and practically died.