Dudes Down Under

ISBN
             
1475220715

EAN
             
978-1475220711

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

'Dudes Down Under' is published by Taylor Street Publishing LLC, who can be found at:

http://www.taylorstreetbooks.com

http://ninwriters.ning.com

'Dudes Down Under' is the copyright of the author, Suzannah Burke, 2012. All rights are reserved.

All characters are fictional, and any resemblance to anyone living or dead is accidental.

Dudes Down Under
, The most luxurious resort ever built. It sits on a privately owned Island on the Great Barrier Reef, off the northernmost region of Australia.

No cell-phones, no computers, no paparazzi

The Menu:

The world’s most famous talk show hostess and the owner of the island sign a deal. The result: Hollywood's 'A'-listers all vying for a chance to be the first guests.

The Method:

They pay half a million dollars for the privilege of being randomly chosen from a barrel of names on her programme.

The Ingredients:

The winners include Hollywood’s foremost golden couple and his very unforgiving ex-wife. the young hotel heiress with a habit of driving while drunk and with little else to commend her. Blend in a couple of famous expatriate actors. Add the tower owning king of power with an unfortunate hairstyle and attitude. The television hostess and her film crew.

Add To The Mixture:

The most politically incorrect bunch of Australian staff you are likely to meet ... anywhere.

The Dessert:

Cyril, who has impeccable dress sense, adores Al Pacino and Marlon Brando, drinks to excess, and has a fascinating attitude about, well, everything! Well ... yes. he is a crocodile, but he's family.

Blend the ingredients carefully then stand well back!

Dudes Down Under
is waiting for you to arrive.

Chapter 1

Lucy shook back her waist-length hair. It clung in wet strands to her olive-skinned shoulders as she emerged from the lagoon. This was her island, her home. Twenty-four hours from now people ready to criticize and find fault with everything and anything would invade it.

Her stomach clenched in a tight knot. Nerves were her biggest enemy. They often blew the hell out of her attempts to present herself as cool, collected, and unaffected.
Well, Daddy, wherever you are … this is it. I have done what I promised you I would do. I’ve built it. It’s real, Daddy, I can see it from here. I wish you could see it. Can you? I hope so. It was your dream and mine, I hope to hell it works.

She gave herself a quick brush down, gently flicking the silver sand onto the pathway leading through the rainforest to her private dwelling.

Tomorrow was D Day …
Dudes Day
. Today was the last chance to change anything.

Lucy looked out from her wide veranda at the sparkling newness of the resort.
Dudes Down Under
curved around the lagoon, seeming to blend into the crystal water. The separate bungalows at varying levels half-hidden from view by the rain forest nestled around them. It was her baby, her pride in it a tangible thing. She had poured her heart and her entire inheritance into her dream, her father’s dream. Daddy was gone, their dream resort was here, real at last, and waiting.

Every bungalow was individually created to reflect a part of her Australia. The Great Barrier Reef lent itself to every imaginable color combination. The feeling of being in the water heightened by the floor-to-ceiling aquariums in every bungalow, leading through corridors of terrariums and out to a private pool and spa ceilinged with rain forest vines, and a glass archway that could be soundlessly closed over by remote control.

The pool in each began inside the lower level of the bungalow; the guests could swim from the wet bar area inside and arrive outside without leaving the water. Surround-sound systems unobtrusively allowed music of the guests' choice to be played in any of the eight rooms decorated to the absolute comfort of any individual.

Quality, not quantity, was apparent in every room.

Furnishings lovingly hand-crafted by the best of the best … every accessory original and exquisite.

Lucy hugged herself and smiled as the memory of her father and his laughter at her youthful exuberance invaded again. This dream had begun with him. She had been raised with his vision of a classic place where people could come and find Nirvana, peace of mind, in absolute luxury. Each bungalow was unique. Beautiful stationery lay on the desks inside the library off the master bedroom, handwritten letters replacing the urgency of email. Time was in abundance here. The urgency of the world outside would disappear for the duration of the stay.

Lucy took a last glance down at
Dudes
. She dressed in a white cotton sarong, wound her ebony mass of hair into a chignon, and headed down to the main reception area.

* * *

Skeet was perched on a fallen tree, having a quiet smoke and coffee. The air was still damp and cool in these moments just after sunrise. He caught sight of Lucy walking down the winding pathway through the vines and ferns. She looked wonderful as always. He gave himself a shake.
Steady on, stupid! Lucy is way outta your league. The voice on his other shoulder was shouting, Shut up, angel puss. Go for it, boyo. What have ya got to lose?

He told both voices to shut their cake-holes.

Lucy smiled with relief when she spotted Skeet. He was her friend and absolutely the most dedicated employee anyone could wish for.

He stood up to welcome her and she glanced at his 6 ft 3 inch frame. As a friend he was the best, as a man … whoo-ee! The nicest thing was he had no idea just how devastating he was to look at. Dark curls above a pair of deep blue eyes, and a killer smile. The most wonderful thing about Skeet was just … Skeet.

“
G’mornin’, me lovely. Did ya get any sleep?” he asked.

“
Not much, but it’s okay. I was kind of expecting to toss and turn a bit.”

“
Ya wanna have a coffee before we do the meeting thing?”

“
Yes, oh yes, please, Skeet. Even my butterflies have butterflies.”

“
She’ll be right, mate. Can’t do a thing about it now anyway. So relax a bit, enjoy a coffee and a smoke. What time do ya want me to call ‘em in for the session?"

“
Half an hour?”

“
Yeah, sounds good. Sit yourself down. You’re as twitchy as a cow in a bull yard.”

“
That bad, huh?”

“
Yup.”

“
Make it a bloody strong coffee.”

“
You got it.”

They relaxed together, sipping on hot coffee and smoking, each aware of how very important the next twenty-four hours would be.

Lucy flicked a look at her Rolex, gave Skeet a nod, and they both headed into the Grand Ballroom to ready themselves for the staff meeting.

*  *  *

“
Testing, testing, 1-2-3. Attention, attention, all staff. There will be a full staff meeting in ten minutes in the Grand Ballroom. Bluey! That means you too, mate. So put ya smoke out, drink down ya coffee, and get your arse in here quick smart, ya drongo!”

“
Is that what ya wanted, darlin’?” Skeet asked as he turned from the public address system.

“
Thanks, I wouldn’t know what to do without you. You’re wonderful.” Lucy reached across the desk and gave him a quick hug.

“
Geez, mate, knock off the flattery. You’ll give me a swelled bloody head.”

“
Skeet, can you please, please, stop calling me mate? I feel like a man every time you say it.”

“
Well, now, Lucy, me little darlin’, you don’t know how often I wished to hear you say that. But you’re the boss and I’m just a croc handler. Sad, isn’t it?

“
Well - no. I ... I don’t mean I feel like a man. Well I do, but not like really feel. Aw hell! You, cheeky bugger, you know what I mean.”

“
Wouldn’t have a clue, ma … er, chooky! No bloody idea. If ya believe that malarkey, I got an island ya might be interested in buyin'. Strewth, you’re a real corker when ya go that blood red color, Lucy.”

“
What? Oh, um, thanks, Skeet ... I think.”

“
Look, Lucy, I’ve known ya since you started this project and I admire you a lot, you know that. But, mate, bloody hell, are ya sure it’s a smart move not tellin' the others that you own this joint?”

“
I don’t know for sure if it’s smart or not, but, it’s the way I want it. These people are a good bunch. You and I both know just how damned hard they’ve worked to have this place ready in time. I don’t want to have them watching their manners with me. I’ll get to hear a lot more about, well, everything, if they think I’m just working here as the manager. Please, Skeet!”

“
Yep, all right. I understand. Mum’s the word.”

Lucy leaned over and gave her friend another kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Skeet. Oh, and Skeet, that’s a nice color red on you, too.”

“
Females. Bloody females.” Skeet headed in to the Grand Ballroom with a huge smile on his handsome face. Lucy was a real little corker. Her dad would be so proud of her. Bloody shame he had to go and get himself eaten. Bloody crocs are such unpredictable bastards. Well, except for Cyril - but Cyril was family.

*  *  *

The staff gathered in the Grand Ballroom, waiting for Lucy to come in. She glanced around and noted without surprise that Bluey was not amongst them. She looked across at Skeet. He hurried off to the P.A system.

“
Bluey, ya lazy bastard. Smoko’s finished. Get ya arse in here now or you will be in deep shit, mate. Now, Bluey!”

Everyone was laughing when Skeet returned. He gave them a shrug and rolled his eyes.

Bluey wandered in, swaggering as always. His tall, lean frame and his shock of red hair came as an unusually attractive package. Not freckled like many redheads, his skin was clear and his eyes an electric green.

“
Thanks for gracing us with your presence, Bluey,” said Lucy.

“
Anything for you, Lucy, anything at all.”

Lucy ignored the comment. Bluey was a problem. She kept hoping he would pick up his act and pull his weight. No luck so far. She dreaded having to fire anyone but he was a definite liability at the moment. She ignored that thought for now, needing to focus clearly on the meeting.

“
Okay, everyone,” she said and clapped her hands together, “One more day till the opening. I want to run through everything once more. Not as formally as we usually do. We have a hectic and nerve-racking time ahead of us. Our first and most important guests will be here in just under twenty-four hours. I want to thank all of you for the amazing amount of work and dedication you have shown. I have been advised that each and every staff member will be receiving a bonus in their next pay.”