[color=OrangeRed][h1][center][b][u]Bobby T.[/u][/b][/center][/h1][/color]



[color=OrangeRed]“--few more days, and we'll get negotiations back on track,"[/color] Bobby said into his iPhone, pacing back and forth around the rooftop pool of La Casa Del Sol Nasciento. [color=OrangeRed]“I've [i]told[/i] you this, Terry. It's just a hiccup, nothing to get worried about."[/color]

The early evening sun was beginning to turn the sky a gorgeous orange, the thin wisps of clouds turning shades of pastel pink and violet. A few stories below, the streets of Isla Zafrio were starting to come alive as people left work to take in the night-life. Salt air came in on a refreshing breeze from the ocean, and the view from the top of the hotel let him see waves lapping at the beach a leisurely stroll from where he was staying.

On the outside, Bob Townsend Jr. was every bit the picture of serene paradise as the view he looked down on. On the inside, he was ready to start screaming.

[color=OrangeRed]“Look, you know how these family things can be,"[/color] he said with a dismissive chuckle. [color=OrangeRed]“One person says the wrong thing to the wrong relative, someone takes it the wrong way, then it's all Hatfields and McCoys and Montagues and Capulets. They've all got their dander up, but once things simmer down, I'll pick right back up where we left off. These Azul Days that are coming up? [i]Everyone[/i] here goes nuts for them. It'll put them in the right mood to talk. I'll bring you something from the festival. Something with dolphins on it, they love dolphins here. You like dolphins?"[/color]

At the far end of the pool, a thirty-something-year-old Japanese woman lounged in one of the poolside deck chairs, busily tapping away at her tablet even as she tried to relax. Behind her sunglasses, Machiko Chigusa rolled her eyes at Bobby's smooth-talk.

[color=OrangeRed]“All right, I'll let you go,"[/color] Bobby said, [color=OrangeRed]“And hey, like I said, these Cardenas guys are just a little touchy right now. A few days of partying, a few rounds of drinks, and we'll get the winery deal and more. You know me, Terry, just trust in Bobby T's golden touch, okay? All right, talk to you later, give Linda my love. Bobby T, out!"[/color]

Bobby ended the call, and as soon as he saw the disconnect, he shouted [color=OrangeRed]“[i]Asshole![/i] You call me up, start questioning [i]me?[/i] Try to kick me while I'm down? I've seen what you've been bringing in the last three quarters, and you're not in any position to question [i]shit![/i] You start poking your nose around here, I'll bury your ass alive!"[/color]

Machiko looked over the rim of her sunglasses, raising an eyebrow. [color=Goldenrod]“Are you done, Bobby?"[/color] she said, not a hint of accent in her perfect English.

[color=OrangeRed]“Oh, don't you start, Chiko,"[/color] Bobby snapped at her. [color=OrangeRed]“I've been doing all the heavy lifting since we've got here. I was the one who was sweet-talking the Cardenas, I was the one who got us the rights to this hotel. All you've been doing is playing tattle-tale for your cousins back in Osaka."[/color]

[color=Goldenrod]“[i]I've[/i] been keeping track of the funds and spending on this little venture,"[/color] she said, [color=Goldenrod]“making sure you don't blow through all of your family [i]and[/i] my family's money."[/color]

Bobby had gotten a reputation as a rock-star in his father's business, throwing wild parties and spending lavishly, but making up for it by landing huge real-estate deals. After the merger that turned Townsend Holdings into Townsend-Chigusa Holdings International, his new partners from the other side of the Pacific had become a thorn in his side, sending bean-counters and penny-pinchers along with him to rein him in.

Machiko, one of the younger cousins of the Chigusa family, was basically a machine that always managed to somehow turn fun into work. She had all the warmth and softness of a block of brushed steel, and he was convinced she had at some point replaced her soul with accounting software. Honestly, the fact that she looked incredible in a bikini was the only reason Bobby hadn't found a way to ditch her back on the mainland.

Bobby looked out on the horizon with annoyance. [color=OrangeRed]“Is that peckerwood with the airplane still flying around? Some goddamn local yokel, thinking he's hot shit because he can handle a Cessna."[/color]

Machiko grinned. It annoyed Bobby to no end that she had begun calculating fuel expenditures for his private helicopter as "entertainment expenses," unless if it was directly related to an upcoming deal. This meant he could only use it to shuttle himself and members of the Cardenas family between the islands, and he had to take the most direct route possible. And because the Cardenas family had put their dealings with him on hold, he was grounded for the foreseeable future.

[color=Goldenrod]“I saw them set down while you were talking with Terry,"[/color] Machiko said with a grin; if there was anything that made her feel any kind of joy, it was seeing Bobby annoyed. [color=Goldenrod]“I believe the pilot does tours, if you’d like me to book you for one.”[/color]

Bob was about to make some pithy remark dismissing the idea, but he caught himself, and in the seconds he took to find his composure, had a bit of inspiration.

[color=OrangeRed]“Actually, that’s not a bad idea,”[/color] he said, grinning as the facade of ‘Bobby T’ settled back into place. [color=OrangeRed]“Sure, it’s not as nice as my chopper, but flying’s flying, right? And hey, seeing what the locals think passes for a thrill ride will give us some ideas on how to improve on the concept once we buy this hotel and start doing our own airplane tours as part of an ‘island adventure’ package.”[/color]

Bobby had already spoken with Ramon Gutierrez, the proprietor of La Casa Del Sol Nasciento, about purchasing the hotel, and while the old man was hesitant about turning over his life’s work, Bobby knew he was less than a week away from flipping him. The hotel was old, and while it was still profitable, it was nowhere near as successful as newer hotels like the Casa de la Contessa. Once La Casa was his (or rather, was Townsend-Chigusa’s), he’d bulldoze the old building and replace it with a brand-new top-of-the-line facility, maybe keep a few bits like the original awning or cornerstone as “historical preservation.” From there, it’d be easy to spin it into an underdog story, the old underperforming establishment given new life and dominating the island. Combined with the developments he was planning with the Cardenas winery, he’d make Townsend-Chigusa a tidy little profit on these islands when all was said and done.

Of course, that was just the opening act. Bobby could’ve bought some land or flipped an old hotel anywhere on the planet and made money off of it. But he’d come to Azul for something much bigger than that…

[color=OrangeRed]“Well, I don’t know about you,”[/color] Bobby said as he stretched, [color=OrangeRed]“but I could use a drink. And not one from the hotel bar– Marta doesn’t seem to grasp the concept of ‘no coconut, por favor.’ Ronaldo, you know anywhere nice to get some refreshments?”[/color]

Ronaldo Cortez, a local man that Bobby had hired to be his private security, cleared his throat. While he’d done his best to remain professional, given long enough, his gaze always seemed to wander back to Ms. Chigusa’s legs.

[color=CadetBlue]“I, erm, I know a few places,”[/color] Ronaldo said, now making an effort to stare straight forward. [color=CadetBlue]“Do you want somewhere nice, or a, er, a hole in the wall?”[/color]

Bobby gave a shrug, perfectly practiced to show how casual and flippant he was. [color=OrangeRed]“Surprise me. Let’s hit the town.”[/color]