Prime

He couldn't get the look on her face out of his mind. Max Skinner sat in his first class seat bound for New York City wondering once again if he was doing the right thing. This pattern of questioning every decision he made in his life was all too familiar.

There was very little dialog between them. He booked a one-way flight with a promise to return. She asked when, he said he didn't know and it’s why the flight was one way and she'd said okay. That was that.

It was dark by the time his plane landed at JFK but he went directly to the high rise office suite where he knew Bradley would be waiting for him. Max left his baggage at the security desk, didn't imagine it would be necessary to heave it upstairs anyway. He managed to look sharp and crisp when he strolled down the hall to the secretary’s office, or so he thought. She noticed the fatigue in his eyes, the weariness on his face.

"He's waiting for you, Mister Skinner."

"I'll go right in, Crystal, Thank you."

One tail of his shirt was not properly tucked, his tie was slightly crooked and his hairstyle was the result of a quick finger combing in the loo on the plane. Max looked as if he'd just rolled out of bed.

"Bradley, you're expecting me?"

The man turned in his chair and as his eyes fell on his top broker his mind said, what the fuck, but his expression didn't give his thoughts away.

"Are you done with your walkabout, Maxie? Get it out of your system?"

"I believe so. I'm ready to go back to work, sir."

Bradley huffed. He moved slowly, methodically, as he opened a small humidor on his desk and selected a cigar from the dozen or so in it. He sniffed it then began to work at piercing the end of it.

"You don't sound too sure of yourself. The Max Skinner who left here wouldn't have said ...I believe so ...he would have said...damn right I'm ready to work."

"Bradley, you know me. You know what I'm capable of."

"You're capable of making a lot of money for me, a lot more than you already have." Bradley looked down at the flame as he lit the cigar. He inhaled and held the smoke for a moment before letting go with the stream of blue aromatic exhaust. "Get yourself straightened out and get to work, Max."

Max left the boss's office and made his way to his own. He took a clean shirt from the bottom drawer of his desk. He was on the phone as he changed. It may have been evening in New York City but there was an active market somewhere in the world and he needed to get himself up to speed. The dollar was down, gold was up. Trading on the Asian markets was heavy and he sat at his desk to key up stats on his computer. Something in the corner of his office caught his eye. Maybe it had been there all along but he'd never noticed it before. With his phone attached to his ear he managed to make two calls as he grabbed every last bit of eucalyptus from the arrangement in the vase. Max deposited it all in the bin without a second thought.  

*********************

"I guess that's it, then." Mara looked at the paperwork on the table in front of her. She wanted to cry but what good would that do? Tears didn't irrigate the fields, nor did they pay for mortgages. "I've used every last penny that Max gave me and we're still in the red. I don't know how much longer we'll be able to hold out."

Hector sat across from her with his hat in his hands. She'd refused to take money from him before and he knew her stupid pride would make her do it again but he'd offer anyway.

"Miss Mackenzie, you know I've got..."

"Stop right there, Hector. I won't take money from you. I'll work this out somehow."

"You have to understand this; I’m serving my own needs, too. If you lose this place I lose as well."

"No, my father has the acreage and your house deeded separately. There's no lien on it. You'll be able to carry on." She could tell that there was still worry in his eyes. Mara shoved the tea cup in front of her so she could lean on the table. "If you're lucky, whoever buys this place won't turn it into a shopping plaza."

"It's part of what I'm afraid of, but there's more'n that. Your dad, he took care of me. I don't reckon I could live with myself if I didn't show my respect. God rest his soul."  

"Something'll give, you'll see. Our first shipments are going to hit the markets in Sydney by the end of the week and who knows? Maybe we'll strike gold."

It wasn't likely and Hector knew it. Mara's father made money here and there but not on the crop and certainly not on the wine that was produced from it. He was savvy in a way that Mara wasn't when it came to making investments. He played in short term bonds and penny stocks which netted him enough to maintain the estate and his hobby with some comfort, but he never taught his daughter how to do this. She needed someone with a good business head to help her. The someone who would have fit the bill was now in New York inflating his fortune. It was one thing that exceeded his sense of self worth and ego by leaps and bounds, if it were at all possible.

*************

Glasses clanged together and cheers rang out shortly after the closing bells sounded on Wall Street. Quite a few of the employees at North, Bingham and North added a couple of extra zeros to their bank account balances today because of the precise buying and selling sense of one man by the name of Max Skinner. He hit the ground running again and the closest thing to catching him was his shadow. Every man wanted to be his shadow and every woman wanted to stand in it.

"You've done it again, my boy. I was worried you'd be sharing a cell with Martha S. for a while but it looks like you'll come out of this unscathed."

"As usual. I've got my finger on the pulse, Bradley. I felt ever single beat, found the rhythm and struck at the proper time."

Bradley chewed on his cigar, anxiously shifting it from one corner of his mouth to the other. His star broker was shining brighter than ever today and he couldn't be happier about it. "I hear you have a birthday coming up. How old are you going to be, son, thirty seven, eight?"

"I'll be forty one."

"Forty one? Christ's sake! You're rich, you're in the prime of your life and I think the new temp is trying to figure out how to get you in her bed tonight. She might make a good little trophy wife for a hot shot like you." Bradley nudged his head over toward a leggy brunette who was perched on the edge of a desk. She sipped at the rim of a champagne glass as she fixed her eyes on Max. "It's about time you thought about an heir for all of that money you've got."

Max looked her way and raised his glass. "What's her name? I'll send her a dozen roses and put her on my dance card. By the looks of things I should have an opening in a few months."

"I believe it's Lara."

"Mara?" Max nearly dropped his glass.

"I said Lara. Are you still thinking about that Australian woman, Max? I thought you'd put that all behind you," Bradley scoffed. "I saw that piddly-assed little vineyard and winery was on the block. It was in the classifieds of the Sydney Morning Herald a few days ago. Stumbled across it quite by accident. I was looking for a flat for my oldest daughter. She'll be going to college..."

Max heard nothing else that Bradley said. His mouth moved but all Max could get out of it was blah blah blah blah blah..... Le Griffon was on the block? Bloody hell! How the fuck did she let this happen?

"Max?" The woman from the desk now stood in front of him batting her lashes. "I've wanted to meet you since I started working here."

"I beg your pardon?" he replied as he snapped from his thoughts.

"Are you okay? What are you drinking?"

"Ah, its a G&T. Here, try it. You'll like it." He handed her the glass and without excusing himself he retreated. Max headed directly for his private office. He undid his tie as he slipped behind his desk and within minutes he had every copy of the Sydney Morning Herald for the past two weeks on his desk.

"Few days ago ..." he mumbled out loud as he licked the tips of his fingers and started leafing through classifieds. It didn't take him long to find it. Bradley was right. Le Griffon was on the auction block and it was for sale by the lender for non payment.

It was hard to say what Max felt just then. Had he let her down or did she let herself down? He'd paid her back what he borrowed plus interest. There was something else gnawing at him, though.

"You're going to be forty one years old. What have you got to show for it?"

"Talking to yourself, Maxie boy?" Bradley had followed him into his den and he carried a bottle of vodka and two glasses with him. "I knew I'd find you here. Guess I made a mistake by telling you about the vineyard. It's not your concern anymore, now is it?"

"No, its not."

Bradley poured him a drink and offered him a cigar from his breast pocket. The thick sweet wad of tobacco reminded Max of his other life and of how he'd neglected to live it, literally. Life imitates art which imitates life. It's a vicious circle sometimes but like any merry-go-round, there's always the option to either grab the brass ring or get the hell off when you can.

"Drink up. The market opens at nine AM. We'll be back to business as usual in the morning."

Max took the glass from Bradley and tipped it to his lips. He wasn't sure he liked vodka all that much anymore.

***************************

It wasn't just her stuff that she had to move, it was several generations of stuff. Mara had to pick and choose what she could keep and what she had to sell, throw out or give to charity. Her grandmother's table cloth was kept, her father’s collection of coins could be sold, no kept, no sold.

"Shit, shit, shit , shit, shit. shit. and ..shit." Funny how stress can limit ones vocabulary.

"Let me help you, Miss." Hector took the coins from her hands and put them in a box marked 'save'. "I don't reckon they'll take up too much space. Here now, don't be cryin. You'll get me going."

"I can't help it, Hector. The new buyers will be here today. I don't even know them and I feel like I hate them. I feel like they're taking everything I've ever known away from me. It's not their fault but I can't help how I feel." She was whinging, bawling off and on. It was just two days ago that she got notice of a high bidder taking possession of the property. She knew it was coming. She had plenty of time to start packing before but it didn't seem possible to lose something that had been in her family for so long with the drop of a gavel.

"C'mon. Let's have a cuppa, and then we'll get back to this. We'll take it out on the veranda."

Hector helped her up off the floor. She was reluctant but went along anyway. He led her out and sat her down, instructing her to stay put as he went back in to make the tea. Looking out over the vineyard didn't do much to ease her distress. They'd managed to turn a small profit with the last shipment but it wasn't enough to catch up. How the hell did her father manage for so many years? If she could concoct an answer it wouldn't be now. The sight of a car coming up the drive just served to sadden her more. It had to be the buyers. Damn it. Mara figured she'd better buck up and put on her best face.

She walked up to the car as it came to a stop and waited for the driver to get out. Hector had just come out on the veranda as the familiar looking green Lancer came to a halt. Mara's jaw dropped as the window came down.

"Max, what the fuck are you doing here?"

"Hello, love. I just bought some property in the area. I was wondering if you'd show me around."