Page 15 of Alluring Adventure

“How unprofessional,” she teases, but her words trigger the hesitations that linger, so I take a step back.

“How are we getting up there?” she asks before taking a bite of her bar.

“Kurt is leading a climb today not far from our take off point, so we’ll hitch a lift with them.”

“Oh cool. I can’t believe I’m going paragliding,” she squeals again and her face lights up with joy. Yes, definitely the best idea I’ve ever had.

Chapter 9

Keeley

Istop again andwipe the sweat from my forehead.

“Fucking hell, how much further?” I shout to Oliver who is a few metres ahead of me.

“Ten more minutes,” he replies. He is carrying most of the equipment, yet he seems daisy-fresh whilst I look like I’ve run a marathon.

“You should have told me that paragliding requires mountaineering.”

“Hardly, it’s a casual stroll. And how do you think we’d fly down if we don’t walk up?” he chuckles. I didn’t think that far ahead, to be honest. When he said Kurt would give us a lift I thought he’d drop us at the take-off spot. But of course, the roads can only get you so close.

I clench my teeth and push on. True to his word, we get to the top in just over ten minutes. I drop into the grass and try to catch my breath. I need to do something about my fitness because this is just pathetic. Oliver holds out a bottle of water as a shadow falls over me.

“Look who we have here. Hey,Ollie,” a stocky looking guy with a greasy comb over approaches us. I can see a young woman nervously fidgeting near a glider laid out on the ground behind him.

“Keeley, this is Stephen. He runs the other adventure company in town. This is Keeley, one of my clients.”

“Call me Stocky, my friends do.” He holds out his hand to me. When I place mine in his he pulls me up instead of just shaking it. I free myself from his grasp and take a step back.

“And client–are you sure theremate?” He is using the word very loosely because going by his smirk and the frown on Oliver’s face, they are anything but friends.

“I saw you last night on the dance floor. Didn’t look that much like a professional relationship to me. And if you think I don’t know who she is, you’re mistaken. I’ve been trying to get someone to come out from Thrill Seekers Diary for ages toreview my company. Didn’t know it requires a good shag to get a blog post,” he sneers.

Oliver stiffens. “You bast—” But I hold him back with a hand on his chest.

“Now listen, Stocky,” I square up to the little twerp. “Because I’m a reasonable person I will pretend you did not just call me a whore who gives away blog posts for a good, hard fuck.” He gasps. I don’t think he expected me to confront him like that, but I’m not having it.

“I take it very personally when someone questions my integrity. If Oliver’s company was subpar I would say so in my review. As it happens, his company was the only one recommended to me at the Greenview Manor Hotel. I assume that is because Oliver was clever enough to build a strong business relationship with the hotel, not because of the rather dodgy reviews your company has. If I were to believe those reviews, it is you who has some questionable morals when it comes to clients.”

“Every review I write is based on personal experience as well as feedback from other clients, like the group who went canyoning with me.” Oliver’s eyes widen at this. I rarely share my methods. “I also consider reviews I find online. If you read my blog next week when it gets published, you’ll see a footnote explaining that Oliver and I are friends and therefore, the majority of my review is based on direct quotes from other clients. My opinion will be shared as well, but it will be clear to the reader that I have a connection with the owner.”

“I—” Stocky stutters

“No, I’m not finished. I’m a professional and so is Oliver. If we’re friends, lovers or an old married couple it’s none of your business. And if you question our integrity one more time there will be consequences. And now, I think you should take care of your client because she looks like she’s about to puke.” I point towards the young woman. Stocky gives me one last glance before walking away without another word.

“Remind me to never piss you off,” Oliver chuckles.

“Right, are we doing this or did I trek up here for no reason?” I grin at him. I love it when I surprise people.

I watch as Oliver painstakingly lays out the paraglider on the grassy hillside.

“It’s a bit like setting up a tent,” he explains. “If you don’t do it right it all goes wrong.”

I nod, pretending to understand but I’m too focused on my nerves to concentrate on anything else. The wind ruffles my hair and sends a shiver down my spine.

“You still want to go ahead with this?” Oliver asks. He’s looking at me closely, searching for any signs of doubt.

“Definitely,” I reply with more confidence than I feel. It looked so amazing in the videos I watched when researching Ols’ company. But now I’m acutely aware that in a few moments I will be flying through the air, and not in the safety of a plane.

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