Chapter 7

Sasha worked until late into the night. The telephone calls were long and some of the conversations got a little bit heated. It was well after midnight when she left the hotel to return to the peace and quiet of her berth on the boat.

Earlier in the day, after they had worked in the coffee shop for several hours, she and Peggy had gone to the spa to check on the progress of the works there. To their surprise and delight, they found that the office space was not only in a quite habitable state, but was actually quiet despite the works going on in the surrounding space, and very comfortable. So, they had set up two tables and some chairs borrowed from the hotel and created themselves a very workable office. It was to this space that she returned after drinks with Lionel. Fishing the keys from her bag, she opened the door and entered ahead of him.

“Things are looking good,” he exclaimed, when she had walked through the outer section and entered the room that would become her office. “You’re almost there. It looks nice already. Are you importing desks for the office or having them made?”

“We’re having some tables made here,” she told him, “not desks, as such. We want to keep it light, like a club, you know? We want an atmosphere like a private members club. We don’t want a corporate feel at all. So, no desks, at least, not in the areas where our guests would have any reason to enter.” She put her bag on one of the tables, next to a laptop and a pile of file folders and magazine.

“Sounds good,” he said.

“We’re bringing in the chairs and couches,” she continued, “and some benches. From China. Hmm! Let’s hope they do get here!”

“They will,” he sought to reassure her. “They will. I will leave you now. You sure you’re going to be okay?”

“Yes, Yes,” she answered. “I’ll just make these few calls and then head home.”

“I could wait with you, if you want. Just to make sure you get to your car safely and so on.”

“Thank you,” she said, looking sideways at him and smiling slightly. “I won’t be long, and my car is parked right in front of the hotel, near the entrance, so I’ll be safe. It’ll be alright.”

“Ok,” he said. “if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” she said.

“See you tomorrow, then,” he said, turning to walk to the door. Sasha followed him out so she could lock the doors behind him. He hesitated on the threshold and looked back at her.

“Call me when you’re finished and let me know how things worked out,” he said.

“Well, depending on what time I get done here,” she said. “I’ll call you if it’s not too late by the time I get through.”

“Call me anytime,” he told her. She wrinkled her forehead and smiled.

“I’ll let you know.”

“If I don’t hear from you, I will call you in the morning,” he told her.

“That sounds better,” she said, “More convenient. I’d hate to wake you just to tell you that everything went well.”

“You can call me any time,” he repeated, “to tell me anything.”

She smiled again. To herself. To him, she said, “Thank you.”

“Good night. Don’t work too late.”

“Good night. I won’t.”

Sasha closed the door and locked it, then stood for a moment, thinking. She had quite enjoyed the evening, she acknowledged, still amazed, however, at the ease with which she had been able to talk to this man. She still could not understand what had made her open up and speak so freely to him. It was very different to those conversations they had had on the phone those months ago. Back then, he had seemed to her to be just flat out annoying. Even then, she had not been able to say quite how, or in what way he had grated on her nerves, and tonight was even worse. And then this evening, she had chatted away to him as if they were friends, as if they had been friends for a long time. She just couldn’t understand it.

She had never really spoken to anyone about her work in such detail, not even to the women she considered her closest friends. She had gone to meet him expecting stilted conversation and a short stay. How different things had turned out. How different he had turned out to be, she thought. Could she have been wrong about him all along? Why? What had changed? Who had changed? Sasha shrugged at the futility of trying to answer any of these questions, gave the doorknob one last turn and tug just to make sure it was indeed, safely locked, turned around and went back into her new office.

She kicked off her shoes, sat down at her table and picked up the telephone.

Lionel was as good as his word. The next morning, he called. He waited until it was a reasonable hour, however, but he called as early as he thought was courteous. He remembered that she had said she normally got up early in the mornings. She had also said that she runs every morning, so he factored in all of that and called her at seven minutes past seven o’clock in the morning. She answered on the third or fourth ring. He caught his reflection in a mirror on the wall of the room and realised that he was grinning all over his face. For reasons that were not apparent to him.

“Good morning, Sasha,” he greeted her, still watching himself in the mirror and still unable to bring his face into repose. “How are things with you?”

“Good morning, Lionel,” she replied, noticing with interest and amusement that she had called him Lionel instead of using his surname, Errivo, as she had been doing before, so much so, that Peggy had noticed and said something to her about it. “I’m good, thanks. You?”

“I’m good,” he told her. “How did things go with your shipment? Did you get it all resolved?”

She heaved a deep sigh. “No,” she told him. “Nope. I still do not know where my container is, and so now, I am wondering if I even have a container at all, in the first place. I am beginning to think that there was no shipment at all. A forty-foot container packed full of merchandise couldn’t just disappear, just like that. Somebody has to know where it is, if it is. Somebody has to know what happened to it. Shanghai sent me copies of their delivering the container to the shippers, and I called every number I have. I spoke to several different people in several different offices, and still nothing. It has gone lost somewhere, and no-one seems to be able to come up with a workable theory as to where it might be at this point.”

“Is there anything I can do?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged and threw up her hands in a gesture of uncertainty and frustration. “Some people are checking – in fact, all over the world, people are checking to see if they can find this thing, and – they assure me – they will call me as soon as they find out something.”

“And they sent you tracking numbers and everything. That’s strange.”

“Yes. Tracking numbers, bills o’ lading, everything. Remember I told you that the tracking numbers are valid, except that when I try to see where the container is right now, I get a message that says “Location unknown”. Which doesn’t make sense.”

“I’ve been thinking about this all night,” he said to her. “You should be able to track the shipment all the way to Miami, seeing it arrive into and leave from every transhipment point along the way.”

“Well, they said it would take six to eight weeks to get to Miami. In my head, I factored in an extra week or so, you know, to account for any delays – bad weather or whatever – and then, I knew that shipping from there to the islands could get messy, so I factored in another month! I had all my stuff ready and shipped three months ago! I shouldn’t be having these problems now!”

“Yeah! I know. Most of the time, these things go pretty smoothly, but sometimes everything just goes wrong, and it can be a real frustration.”

“I don’t know what else to do at this point. There doesn’t seem to be anything I can do, right now, actually, except wait. So, I wait.”

“I know you must have gone over the papers a million times, but it could be something either you’re missing or a step that somebody else missed somewhere along the chain.”

“Man! I have looked at these documents every which way,” she sighed. “I am beginning to get seriously concerned. We have less than two months to opening day! We have five-and-half weeks to be exact. I have to have those things now, so we can set up the space properly. I cannot afford to have it be that we postpone the opening.”

“I understand how you feel,” he reassured her, “but look at it this way and see if it helps. I know this is your first big opening, and I know that it is really important to you that you get it right, but bear in mind that huge, mega companies have postponed important launches from time to time, too, so don’t get stressed about that. At least, not yet. I know you’re maybe not feeling this right now, but it really is not the end of the world, if you have to postpone. In general, people understand these kinds of issues. It happens all the time. Restaurants and designer shops have to do it all the time. I can’t think of one restaurant that opened on the date the owners had planned. I personally know quite a few who have had to put off the opening because they couldn’t get ready in time. Stuff happens and you work around it. Generally, the world works with you when you do.

“Sometimes, it actually works to build anticipation, and almost always, you can spin it so it does. I understand your frustration, but seriously, I would begin right now to look at options for a new date, just in case, and figure out how to play it so it works for you. Besides,” he continued after a brief pause, “this is a huge, international hotel chain that you’re working with. Their image and their clientele can certainly buffer much – if not all – of that.”

She listened and was a little reassured by what he was saying, but something in her was also resisting what was clearly an attempt to support her and help her figure this problem out. She wondered why it bothered her at all, to hear him say the things he was saying. She knew he was right and she knew she could use the moral support.

“I know,” she said. “But I want this to go well. I don’t want any hiccups.”

“There always are hiccups when you’re doing business,” he said with a chuckle at the end, “especially at these levels. And we get through them. Believe me. I know. You will sort this out and everything will be okay.”

“I hope you’re right,” she allowed.

“Oh! I am,” he asserted. “I have lots of experience with hiccups – these kinds of hiccups – fortunately or unfortunately!” She sensed a little bitterness in the low chuckle she heard from him after he said this.

Some instinct made her want to lighten up the conversation. “So, you’re a good resource for these kinds of problems?” she asked with laughter deliberately in her voice.

“I am, Sasha. I am. If you only knew.”

“Tell me!” she heard herself say.

He laughed. “How much time do you have?”

She laughed in response. “How much time do you need?”

“Let’s begin with one dinner time,” he said. “I will check in with you later in the day, today, and see if you have made any progress with this, and if you haven’t, I will come see what I can do to help you, given my mountain of experience. You’ll be in your office, right?”

“Yes,” she answered. “I’ll be at the spa. I’m heading there as soon as I can get ready here. It’s probably going to be another very long day.”

“I will help you figure this out,” he said, “and then, after we’ve fixed this, we can go to dinner, and I’ll tell you how I come by my great store of experience. How’s that sound?”

“Hopefully, my brain will still be intact by then!” she said.

“It will. This is par for the course. It is annoying and troublesome, yes, but it’s all in the nature of the business. I’ll see you later.”

“Thanks. Talk later.”

“Cool. Bye.”

“Bye.” She didn’t click to end her call. Neither did he.

After a few seconds, they both laughed and said goodbye again. She tapped the red spot on the screen of her phone. Hurriedly. She put the phone down onto the table and turned to make some coffee.

“What the hell was that?” she asked herself out loud. “Why didn’t I end the call? Well, he didn’t either. So!...Oh, damn! What is this?” The sound of her phone ringing snapped her out of her bemusement.

“Hi, Peggy,” she answered. “Good morning. No. I have no news. Today, will be the same as yesterday, if we don’t locate this damn container. I’m heading out to the hotel in about five minutes. Getting an early start. I didn’t get much sleep last night, because by the time I was through with Shanghai – I think I must have spoken with the entire population of that city, last night. When I did get through, one person put me through to another, who handed me off to another, who told me I needed to go back and talk to the person before that, and on and on and back and forth until I was getting really exasperated! It was the same with the people I spoke to in the US. There was always somebody else that I should have been talking to. The same back and forth everywhere. So, today, we do it again. Are you ready for work? Will you come down early?”

“Phew!!” Peggy exclaimed. “Aww man!! So, we’re stuck? Yes, I’m already dressed and ready. Let’s go do this. I’ll meet you at the spa.”

“Ok. See you in a bit.”

“Ok.” They both tapped the red buttons on their cell phone screens. Sasha poured coffee into her portable cup, picked up her bags and went off to work.

Just after eleven o’clock, Lionel Errivo called Sasha to ask how she was getting along. She had no news. Nothing had changed. She was going to focus on other things for the rest of the day, she told him. There were staffing matters to attend to, the promotional schedule to be worked on, local carpenters to talk to, she told him. There were a thousand other things to do, she told him, so she would focus on those for the time being and make sure those were all moving along well and not having any problems.

“Are we still on for dinner?” he asked, after a few minutes of conversation.

“If you’re sure you won’t mind being interrupted by me making or receiving telephone calls,” she said, after an almost unnoticeable pause. “Well, hopefully receiving, and only one that will say that my container is safe and sound. And maybe even already offloaded at the port in Providenciales!”

“No problem,” he reassured her. “I’d be happy to have my dinner be interrupted for that. What time do you say? Seven? Eight?”

“Eight,” she said, first, then added, “Well! That depends on where we will have dinner.”

“Have you been to Pino’s yet?”

“No. I haven’t even heard of it. I haven’t been out anywhere yet, really. I’ve only been going from the boat to here and back.”

“So, you could do with a change of scenery, then. It’ll do you good. We’ll go to Pino’s. It’s a very nice Italian restaurant just a short distance from this hotel. I went there with Antonella and we loved it.”

“Well, eight o’clock, then. I can find my way, there, I think.”

“Oh, no. No! No-o-o. I’ll drive you there. Where will you be? At the spa or on the boat?”

Sasha thought quickly. This had not crossed her mind. It was beginning to sound like a date – a real date, now – not just two people getting together to chat. She’d have to go back to the boat and change. She had decided on the outfit she was wearing today in the same way she had done yesterday – as an easy change to go from work to a casual evening meeting with a friend. Friend? She was thinking of Lionel as a friend, now, was she? Her mind was beginning to spin around a little bit. Ok, she told herself. Slow down. Think. Go home and change and drive back to the hotel. Have him meet you at the hotel. Ok. Yes. That’s it. That’s what she would do.

“Oh, I’ll be back at the boat, by then,” she said, and then hurried to add, “but I can drive back here and meet you. That’ll save you having to drive all the way out to the marina.”

“I don’t mind driving out to the marina,” he said. “Let’s say seven forty-five?”

“Yes, that’s good,” she told him. And herself.

“See you later, then,” he said. “I hope you get the phone call you want. Talk later. Bye.”

“Bye,” she said.

“Later,” she added, after she put the phone very slowly and carefully down onto the desk, tapping it slightly as she did so. She sat and looked quizzically at it for a moment, then shook her head once, stood up, walked across the room, came back, sat down again and got back to work.

Later in the afternoon, she put a call through to Dandan, in New York. They spoke for a few minutes, but Dandan was unable to help her other than to suggest that she keep calling the shippers and the brokers. The manufacturers were all fully paid up, and had all submitted all the necessary paperwork that proved they had delivered the merchandise to the shippers. Some had used their own delivery trucks, others had used commercial transportation, but each company had delivered, it seemed. She had documentation from the packers that showed they had received the merchandise. A container had indeed been packed and shipped. She had tracked it, en route for almost two months, and now, nothing!

“Oh! You know who would be very likely be able to help you?” Dandan offered, “You remember Lionel Errivo? I had introduced you to him in the morning group. Remember?”

“Yes, I remember him,” Sasha replied.

“Yes. I think you had spoken to him a few times. Call him! I am sure he’ll be able to help you. He knows this stuff like no-one else I know. I can send you his contact information if you do not have it still.”

“I have it. I have it. He is here in Providenciales, actually. The new manager of the hotel, who arrived just weeks ago, is his sister. He’s here visiting her, I suppose. He came with her to the party on the yacht the other day.”

“Oh! That’s amazing. See how things work? That’s good. So, talk to him and let me know how it goes. I am sure he can help you. His father’s company has been shipping out of China to the US and Italy – and other places – for a long time now. I think that is the area he works in at his father’s company, too. Call him right away! I’m sure he would love to help you.”

For some reason, she omitted to tell Dandan that he had already offered.