Olin's Island Adventure

Varan stood in Olin’s closet, making last minute selections for his business trip. Part of her job as a handler was making sure he was prepared, and sometimes that meant packing for him to make sure nothing was overlooked. “I’ll let you decide,” she called. “Beige Suit, or would you prefer separates, though I recommend light colors.”

“It’s an island, Suit’s are stifling on islands.” Olin called back pacing on his phone to his ear. “You would think a person calling you would not put you on hold but here we are.” He muttered fighting the urge to hang up and let his father call him back when he remembered whatever it was he wanted to talk about. “Can we add color or is it bland mandatory?” He asked realizing Varan had said the word beige.

“You can add a pop of color, I was thinking pastel green or maybe salmon,” Varan replied, holding up a few ties to various dress shirts for color matching. “Likely you won’t need it, but it’s better to have and not need than need and not have. I’ve packed a few bathing suits, one for swimming, one for surfing and water sports, one for the hot tub, which I beg of you to shower immediately upon exiting.”

“Green.” Olin said before speaking Norwegian on the phone. He pulled away from the phone for a second. “Agreed. Hot tubs are disgusting. I much prefer the Japanese Onsens.” He added before speaking back into the phone.

Varan chose an earthy brown tie with a checked pattern and matching pocket square to go with the pale green shirt, checking everything off a list on her tablet. Waterproof diving watch, Jade ring for accessories, shoes, sandals, casual shorts, dressier shorts, everything he could need for a week of tropical paradise living, including several pricy pairs of sunglasses, should a few get lost.

“While you’re away, I’m going to try and close the Fineman account, one less thing for you to deal with….” she said, rolling his sizable hardbound suitcase from the closet.

“Ja, greit, jeg forstår. Ok jeg skjønner det! Kan jeg gå, jeg må pakke ferdig.” Olin said finally hanging up and taking a deep breath. “I swear my father is going to drive me to drink more than I already do. So what was that about Fineman?”

“I’m going to try and close the account while you’re away.” Varan said matter of fact. “It’s not making good business sense.”

“Sure, is Fineman the sweaty one or the gassy one?” Olin paused struggling to remember.

“Sweaty. Gassy one is Albrecht.” Varan clarified.

“Ah … yeah you should be fine. Just make sure there is air conditioning unless you’re letting him down, if you are outdoor cafe. It’ll make it go smoother and faster.” Olin said padding downstairs to the kitchen. “Coffee?” He asked letting the machine warm up.

Varan tapped her wrist to remind him to be mindful of the time. “I’m good thanks.”

“Yes yes I know … just a shot of espresso and this monkey will dance.” Olin snorted.

“Yes yes, your taskmaster handler is making you go to a tropical paradise for an hours worth of work and a week’s worth of play, such a hard ass. “ She joked.

“I know. There is no justice in this world.” Olin smirked downing his espresso. “No pressure. Only a potential billion credit deal.”

Varan held out the handle of his suitcase. “Car is downstairs. Turn on that Olin charm. Billion Credit Deal.”

“I will, I shall, and enjoy the silence when I’m gone. Ice cream is in the freezer. Try to miss me just a little.” Olin said take the suit case, sauntering out the door.

“Try not to be lost without me,” she called after him, waiting until the door closed before pouring herself a cup of coffee and deciding to have the penthouse deep cleaned while he was away.