Twist of Fate Page 12

  She might never see Gideon Cage again after this precious week in paradise. It was as she stood there, staring unseeingly at the dusty pink walls of the courtyard that she began to acknowledge the truth of her feelings for Gideon. Before she could put the feelings into words, a movement at the corner of her vision caught her attention.

  Automatically she glanced to the side and saw one of the artists, a thin man with a beard dressed in shorts, T-shirt and thongs, begin to pack up his paints and brushes. He nodded politely as she watched him. A little embarrassed, Hannah quickly looked away.

  The small distraction had broken the spell of her incipient brooding and Hannah told herself she would not let the mood return. This was, after all, only her third day with Gideon. She had four left. Buoyed by the thought, Hannah hurried toward the bookshop where Gideon was paying for a weekly business newsmagazine.

  “You’re supposed to be on vacation,” she reminded him as she saw his choice in reading material.

  He grimaced. “I know. I’ve been feeling a little out of touch.”

  “By the time you get back to Tucson everything in that magazine will be old news.”

  “I’m aware of that.” His long fingers clenched rather fiercely on the paper sack.

  It was the force of his grip on the sack along with the edge in his voice that convinced Hannah to change the subject. “There’s a duty-free jewelry shop up ahead. I want to see if they have any real bargains on watches.”

  But after careful perusal of the collection of Swiss and Japanese watches Hannah decided that she really didn’t need anything to replace the twenty-dollar functional quartz watch she already wore.

  “It does everything these fancy ones do,” she explained to Gideon. “Tells the time and date and what’s more, it uses real numbers. I don’t understand this trend toward designing elegant watches and then leaving off the numbers. What’s the point of a watch without numbers?”

  “Only someone who was not destined to be eternally trendy could ask that. It’s almost five o’clock. Let’s go have a drink and discuss the matter. Looks like it’s going to rain any minute.”

  He took her arm and led her out of the courtyard and back down the alley. By mutual consent they headed toward the main street of town, the one that overlooked the harbor and, after a little speculating, settled on an open-air, island-style bar shaded with a low-slung thatched roof. Under the thatched roof they found a pleasant collection of cane chairs and tables.

  The rain came just as they were seated near the bamboo railing that encircled the bar. Hannah was growing accustomed to the frequent, warm showers that poured briefly from the clouds that built up overhead during the hot afternoons.

  “I like the idea of warm rain. I think I could get used to it,” she told Gideon. “You don’t have to worry about getting wet because you dry out in a few minutes anyway. Seattle should consider switching to warm water instead of cold.”

  “The rain is like this in Tucson during the summers. Comes down like a waterfall in the afternoons. Cools things off for a while.” Gideon’s eyes were on the small boats bobbing in the marina that nestled in a corner of the harbor.

  The last thing Hannah had wanted to discuss was Tucson. In a firm voice she ordered a frothy rum and fruit juice concoction from the hovering waiter. When Gideon ordered his usual Scotch she berated him cheerfully.

  “You can drink Scotch anytime. Why don’t you try something new? Live dangerously.”

  “I’ve already got enough excitement in my life.”

  Hannah wasn’t certain how to take that. It was not, she felt sure, a compliment to her. Gideon seemed to have his mind on something else entirely. She was afraid she knew what it was. The dignified heading of the business news-magazine was visible over the edge of the paper sack that lay on the table beside him. Determinedly she sought for still another topic.

  “We should be able to finish packing my aunt’s books by tomorrow.”

  “If you can stop taking time out to read as you pack.”

  Hannah winced. “I’m not the only one who gets sidetracked. Every time you come across a new map you take a break, too.”

  “It doesn’t slow me down.”

  The drinks arrived before Hannah could seek still another conversational gambit. Gideon’s mood was making her nervous. As usual, her knee seemed to react to the tension. Unobtrusively she stretched out her leg under the table, trying to relieve the tightness. Gideon’s expression darkened.

  “What’s wrong? Leg hurting?”

  “It’s just a little stiff, that’s all.”

  “I told you that you were overdoing the long walks on the beach in the mornings. You should stick to swimming for exercise.”

  “Yes, Gideon, you’ve mentioned that more than once.”

  “For all the good it does.”

  Annoyance began to replace the uneasy feeling. Hannah stirred her rum drink with a swizzle stick that had a tiny paper umbrella on the tip. “I’m the one who’s in the professional advice business, remember?”

  “Does that mean you don’t take good advice, yourself?” There was clear challenge in Gideon’s narrowed gaze. He cradled the Scotch between his hands and watched Hannah broodingly.

  “Let’s just say I’m probably better at giving it than taking it.”

  “That’s not saying much, is it? The advice you give isn’t all that useful except maybe to some dumb kid in college who can’t decide whether to go into medicine or join the circus.”

  Hannah’s fingers trembled slightly. She wrapped them more tightly around her glass. “I’m not sure the quality of my advice matters as far as you’re concerned. You’ve made it clear you don’t intend to take it.”

  “You haven’t given me anything useful.”

  Just myself, wholeheartedly, for the past three nights. “You’re in a hell of a mood, Gideon. Mind telling me why you’re looking for an argument?”

  He closed his eyes in brief disgust. “I don’t know,” he admitted finally.

  Hannah took a breath and decided to try a tentative foray. “Is it because you’ve started worrying about your business and what’s going on back in Tucson?”

  “Just because I’m standing still on this island doesn’t mean Ballantine is waiting patiently somewhere else.”

  “So?”

  “So I’m out of touch. I don’t know what he’s doing. I started thinking about it this afternoon. If I know Ballantine, he’s moving.”

  “Moving on what?”

  Gideon moved a hand impatiently. “On a company called Surbrook. It’s an aerospace manufacturing firm. Very lucrative but very strung out financially. A ripe target.”

  “Are you going after the same company?”

  “I’ve told my clients we’re going to take over Surbrook, install our own management to straighten it out, and then unload it at a sizeable profit.”

  “And Ballantine?”

  “He’s told his clients the same thing.”

  “I see.” Hannah tried a sip of her rum drink, using the straw to siphon up the pineapple-and-guava flavored froth.

  “I doubt it.”

  “What’s so complicated that a simple guidance counselor couldn’t figure it out? You’re both going after the same firm. Only one of you will get it. The only question is which gunslinger goes down in the dust in front of the Bitter End saloon, the old pro or the new, young tough. The trouble with gunslingers is that they never figure out there’s another alternative.”

  Gideon’s face was set in harsh lines, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from asking, “What alternative?”

  “One of the gunmen could simply walk away from the fight.”

  “Jesus Christ, lady. If that’s your idea of advice, you’d better stick to handing it out to undergraduates.”

  “Well? Why can’t you just walk away?” she demanded.

  “Because in my business reputation is everything. If I start giving up on a project after promising my clients I’m going to make money fo
r them, I’ll very soon find myself without any clients. Is that simple enough for you?”

  “I can’t see why abandoning one takeover project should ruin your precious reputation.”

  “If Ballantine doesn’t get the showdown he wants over Surbrook, he’ll simply create another. If I don’t show up for the next fight, he’ll try again. And again. And with each new contest he’ll be a little stronger, a little wiser, a little harder to beat. By the time my back is against the wall, he’ll be a hell of a lot harder to deal with than he is right now. Sooner or later my back will be to the wall, Hannah. Don’t you understand? He’ll simply keep pushing, keep going after everything I want until he forces me to fight back. He can afford some losses. After all, he’s young and everyone knows he’s just starting to claw his way up to the top. People will expect a few losses from him enroute.”

  “But they won’t tolerate losses from you?”

  “I’m not supposed to make mistakes.”

  “You make the whole thing sound inevitable.”

  “It is,” he growled.

  “Then why keep pushing me for advice you can’t use and don’t want?”

  Gideon took another long sip of Scotch. “Damned if I know.”

  Hannah had a flash of intuition. “It’s because even though you say you have no alternatives, a part of you is still looking for a way out. You’re hoping against hope that I’ll come up with something really brilliant. Something that might give you an idea of how to handle Ballantine. Could anyone have stopped you nine years ago?”

  “No.”

  Hannah let that hang in the air for a moment. The rain began to slack off as the late afternoon thunderstorm disintegrated. Water ran quickly off the streets into the open gutters that lined the roads and alleys. Santa Inez had had its afternoon bath and was clean and sparkling once more.

  “Have you considered,” she asked cautiously, “abandoning the field even if it means giving up Cage & Associates entirely? Let Ballantine take whatever he wants.”

  Gideon stared at her as if she were out of her mind. “Are you crazy? I’ve spent nine years building that company. I created it out of nothing. I’ve spent every day for the past nine years making it what it is today.”

  “But you’re not enjoying it. From what I can tell, you’ve never particularly enjoyed it. You get a few adrenaline highs from the skirmishes but that’s about it. You know what your problem is? You’ve lived off power for so long you’re not sure you can live without it. But there are other things besides power out there, Gideon.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve been safely locked away in your liberal ivory tower, theorizing about the real world but never actually having to live in it.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “It is true,” he gritted. “You want proof? Only a fool who had no concept of the reality of the business world would have come down to Tucson and tried to beat me out of what I wanted with a deck of marked cards. And only an even bigger fool would have given me a lecture about changing my ways after she’d tried to cheat me.”

  Hannah had all she could do not to show how badly she was starting to bleed from the wounds he was inflicting. With all the dignity she could muster she reached for her cane and got to her feet.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

  “Back to the cottage,” she said quietly. “I didn’t invite you to Seattle and I didn’t invite you along on this trip. You have an incredible amount of nerve to sit there and chew me out for the quality of my advice. If you don’t want it, you shouldn’t keep hounding me for it.”

  Unsteadily she started across the plank floor. Her leg was throbbing now. Before she reached the door Gideon was at her side, taking her arm. In his hand he carried his own paper bag plus the package she had left behind.

  “You didn’t invite me to Seattle and you didn’t invite me to Santa Inez but you sure as hell invited me into your bed,” he muttered.

  “I don’t recall issuing the invitation.”

  “Then you’ve got a poor memory, lady.”

  Hannah was incensed. “Gideon, I think this relationship of ours has about run its course. It’s obvious you’re anxious to get back to the big showdown in Tucson. Don’t let me stop you.”

  “I’m not going anywhere for another four days.”

  They were out on the sidewalk now, heading toward the jeep. The dissolving thunderclouds were reflecting the light of the setting sun in a magnificent sweep of burnt gold and peach. The breathtaking sunsets were as common to Santa Inez as the afternoon showers. Beyond the harbor the sea heaved gently under the receding line of rain.

  “Gideon, I don’t see any reason to spend four more days together. Not if you’re going to spend them gnawing on me. This is my vacation and my cottage but this is not exactly my idea of a good time. I won’t let you ruin…” Her knee gave slightly as she swung herself into the front seat of the jeep.

  Automatically Gideon reached out to steady her. The package with the rolled map in it started to slip. He caught it just before it dropped into the swirling water of the gutter.

  “What the hell’s this?” He examined the curled sheet of paper.

  “A souvenir. Here, I’ll take it.” Hannah made a grab for it and missed.

  “Looks like a map.” Retaining his hold on it Gideon walked around the front of the little four-wheel drive vehicle and climbed into the driver’s seat. He sat behind the wheel and unrolled the chart. He spread it out carefully against the wheel and sat studying it for a long moment. Eventually he looked at Hannah. “You don’t collect charts and maps.”

  “Gideon…”

  “You bought this for me, didn’t you?”

  “Sometimes,” Hannah said dryly, “I tend to act impulsively.”

  “Regretting this impulse?”

  “Let’s just say I am now thinking of having the map laminated. I can use it on my kitchen table.”

  “Like hell.” Something flickered in his eyes as he leaned across the gearshift and caught her chin in his fingers. “Thank you, Hannah.”

  She said nothing, searching his face in silence.

  “You’re right about one thing,” Gideon said.

  “What’s that?”

  “I have no right to chew you into bits and pieces every time you offer some advice. The truth is, I want you to go on offering it.”

  Hannah shook her head. “Why?”

  “Because I haven’t got anyone else I can talk to the way I do to you.” He rerolled the gift with great care and stashed it safely behind the seat. Then he twisted the keys in the ignition. “I like it when you try to tell me what to do.”

  “I doubt that.” Hannah braced her hand on the side of the windshield as the jeep darted out into the disorganized traffic of Santa Inez’s main thoroughfare. Two taxis honked loudly as Gideon cut them off but there was no real malice in the sound. It was more an acknowledgement that the pink-fringed jeep had won the small contest.

  “It’s true, you know,” Gideon insisted above the noise of the traffic and the engine. “I do like it.”

  “There must be any number of people who would be quite happy to tell you what to do and where to go.”

  “Ah, but they all have axes to grind, preferably into my skull. I can’t trust their advice.” He grinned, his mood changing abruptly as he drove. The wind caught his hair, ruffling it.

  “What makes you think my advice is so damned altruistic?” Hannah challenged.

  “You’ve already learned the hard way that you can’t manipulate me. But you still let me into your bed and you still hand out the advice. Must be out of pure, altruistic motives. You’re sweet, Hannah. Gentle. Kind.”

  “Sweet, gentle, and kind are insults, coming from you. They make me sound weak, silly, and vulnerable.”

  “You are definitely not weak or silly. Just a little out of your depth when you start trying to tell me how to run my business.”

  “Do me a favor. The next time
you’re trying to come up with some compliments, keep them to yourself.”

  His grin broadened as he slanted a glance at her. “In addition to sweet, gentle, and kind you have the sexiest little ass I’ve ever seen.”

  “I can’t tell you what your admiration means to me.”

  He laughed, his good mood fully restored. “Thanks for the maps, Hannah,” he said again. “Both of them. I’ll take good care of them.”

  “Hey, where are we going?” she demanded as he turned off the main road and started inland. The narrow track that bisected the island was known, appropriately enough, as the mountain road. It crossed Santa Inez at the island’s highest point.

  “To dinner. Remember that old plantation we read about? The one up on the mountain that’s been turned into a hotel?”

  “I remember.”

  “It’s supposed to have great conch chowder.”

  “Is this a peace offering?”

  “Honey, we’re not at war.”

  Hannah thought about that. “I’d hate to be in the way if we were.”

  TWO HOURS LATER Hannah was forced to concede that the “peace offering” had worked. By the time she had dined on conch chowder, lobster, and a heavenly coconut-and-pineapple pie she was willing to let bygones be bygones.

  From the veranda of what had once been a plantation home back in the days when the island had been rich in cane and cotton, dinner guests could look out on the town and its harbor far below. Trickling down the hillside to the sea were scattered bits and pieces of gleaming gems, the lights of homes built along the mountain road. Many belonged to those living out their dream of retiring to an island as Elizabeth Nord had done. Most of those born on Santa Inez preferred to live in town where it was easier to participate in the casual round of community life. The locals took the breathtaking sea views for granted. Only the expatriates demanded beachfront or hillside property.

  On the drive back down the mountain after dinner, Gideon made a few of the short, pithy comments he reserved for other drivers on the narrow roads, but his general mood remained complacent. Hannah felt relaxed and happy once more. She could almost ignore the twists and turns of the route down the mountain. Gideon’s driving was smooth and competent. Whatever had been making him restless earlier in the day seemed to have faded into the background.