Fire in the Wind (37 page)

"Such as children's wear," Vanessa said, noticing the odd fact that being cornered was a real physical feeling, as though there were walls all around her. Could Jake Conrad really destroy her career like this, with one powerful stroke?

"What if I just wreck the company, force it into bankruptcy through bad management?" she asked.

"I'd go very carefully on that one," David said. "It might be difficult to prove, but he could certainly tie you up in some very ugly litigation. And it wouldn't do your future job prospects much good, I imagine."

No. "So my only hope is to get the new backing," she said slowly.

"Unless you want to stay where you are and call Conrad's bluff," David pointed out. "Once he forced you into bankruptcy, of course, he'd have no more power over you."

"Of course," she agreed distantly
.
Funny
, she thought,
he's got power over my integrity, too. I always thought no one could touch that except myself, but he's going to force me to do the one thing I've always refused to do. I've got to ask the Standishes for money. I wonder if he knew that?

* * *

Barney had decided to adopt Vanessa. He waited on the front step almost every day now for her to come home from work; and her bookish neighbour, coming in at the same time as she did one evening and watching Barney tear up the stairs when she unlocked her door, remarked with calm humour that he would be suing her for alienation of affection.

Vanessa was glad of the cat. She had never owned one, and she found that she had been missing something quite wonderful in her life. A cat was good company, and a soft purring body in your lap could be a great comfort.

The October days were growing shorter, she realized, coming home one evening to find Barney splayed out lazily on the wide top step to catch the last rays of the sun. She laughed at him, bending to caress his stomach as she mounted the front steps and then unlocking the door. Barney, wise in the ways of creative leisure, didn't move from his position until the door was open. Then, without even a glance to orient himself, he leaped up and dashed inside with her.

Immediately he was impatient for the second door to be opened, and he mewed demandingly for her to hurry with the key.

"You're a dreadful beast," Vanessa said caressingly as she followed his lithe body up the stairs. "Did anyone ever tell you you're a dreadful selfish beast?"

"Once or twice," said a voice as she reached the top, making her gasp and whirl, nearly losing her footing. A male figure stepped forward from the sitting-room door.

"How did you know I was here?" asked Jake Conrad.

"You!" Vanessa said harshly in a voice too loud. "What do
you
want?"

She was poised, ready for flight. Barney wreathed around her ankles on his tiptoes, head up, tail up, back arched, at his most appealing.

"What do you think I want?" Jake asked in a quiet voice.

In the silence Barney's purr sounded like a truck motor with one piston missing. Vanessa glanced down and tried to push his furry body away with her foot, because if she had to start running she didn't want to be tripped up. But Barney was feeling friendly as well as hungry; and he knew that once he had made it clear to the human's inferior intelligence that he would actually deign to be patted, she would be thrilled by the honour. Humans always were. So he came back and flung himself against her instep and gave one or two ecstatic little cries to encourage her.

"I really could not say," Vanessa said levelly. "Suppose you tell me."

"What would you say if I told you I—wanted to make an apology?" he asked in a matter-of-fact voice, and Vanessa's face lost all expression. She did not believe him for a minute. This was just another move in his game. She stared at him, her eyes cold, and almost eerily there was utter silence for a moment as Barney stopped purring.

"Get out," she said, contempt threading her cool low voice. What kind of a fool did the man take her for? "Get out of here."

His face darkened, and he shrugged. "I can oblige," he said, his voice going up on a warning note, "but it would be better for you to listen to what I have to say."

"Yes?" she said brightly. "Why?" Barney, purring again, was making encouraging little forays toward the kitchen and back again, trying to make her understand. He gazed up at her, radiating lovableness.

"Because you are in a vulnerable position and I hold all the cards."

"I don't think so," Vanessa replied coolly. She didn't move from her strategic position at the top of the stairs.

"Vanessa, I want to talk to you," Jake said doggedly. "If you'll listen to me now I won't bother you again."

"You don't bother me now," she said in level scornful tones. "Please get out of my house." It wasn't true that he didn't bother her. Her heart was beating in her ears. She realized that she was afraid of Jake.

He was wearing blue jeans and the navy bomber jacket he had loaned her the day he took her to the top of Grouse Mountain; the thought crossed her mind that that had been in the spring and now it was fall. How much had happened in between! She had lived a lifetime in four and a half months.

Taking his hands out of the pockets in a movement that caused her heart to thump, Jake said evenly, "If you don't listen to me, I'll phone the police."

"And tell them what?" she demanded. "I've had legal advice, Jake. I am not the employer of all those people you so painstakingly interviewed! So what are you planning on charging me with?"

He took that without a blink and said carelessly, "It might cause you inconvenience, nonetheless, to have the charges investigated."

She thought of David saying,
No one would be bothered with small potatoes like you,
and smiled.

"However," said Jake, "there's also a charge of illegal entry and theft—"

"There is, if you want to risk a counter-charge of blackmail!" Vanessa shot back triumphantly.

His eyebrows snapped together. "What?"

"You'll have to show them the file I stole, won't you? I'll tell the police you were using the contents of that file to get sexual favours from me, that you were blackmailing me with the fear of criminal prosecution! How will you like that?"

She couldn't imagine what corner of her mind that had surfaced from, but she felt exactly the same exhilaration that she sometimes felt when she came up with a new design. She began to laugh.

"But don't stop there, Jake! You've got lots more threats you can use against me, haven't you?" She sobered, and her face was suddenly grim. "Why don't you threaten to call the debenture tomorrow? That's what you want to do, isn't it? Or to crook your finger to bring Robert back to Concorp? Only I don't think that would work, Jake! I think Robert likes working with me. I think if I told him what you're doing he'd stay at Number 24 with me!"

Unexpectedly her voice cracked, and blinking, she dropped her eyes. Barney was on his hind legs, pawing delicately at her knee.

Jake's voice was wooden. "I wouldn't be at all surprised," he said, and Barney started in surprise as a tear fell on his handsome chest. "Don't forget, in your triumph, that Robert is a Catholic. He might not leave Maria for you as readily as he'd leave me!"

She gasped, the tears drying instantly. "How dare you!" she snapped, fiery outrage blazing at him from her eyes. "Get out of here before I call the police and charge
you
with breaking and entering!"

"I didn't break anything," replied Jake. "I own this building. I came in with a key."

"Well, it's my home!" Vanessa shrilled. "I doubt very much if the laws of the land allow you to walk in at any time!" She turned and marched down the stairs to fling the door open. "Now get out!" she commanded him. "Get out of my house!"

Barney thought she might be talking to him, but he had no intention of going anywhere. He sat down firmly at the top of the stairs and began to wash a paw.

Jake stepped over him to walk down the stairs toward her. His eyes were blazing, but she was too angry to be frightened. He reached past her and his hand closed over hers on the knob as he pulled the door shut. Then he put both hands on her shoulders and pulled her to face him.

"You goad me beyond endurance," he said roughly. "But this is the last time. There's nothing I want from you any more—except for you to keep away from me. Do you hear what I'm saying? I don't want to see you in future. Do you understand that?"

His hands burned her shoulders with a melting fire. In spite of all her anger his touch softened her. Vanessa bit her lip.

"That's fine with me!" she blazed, wishing that he would either take his hands away or—she put a brake on her thoughts. "Do I take it this is goodbye?"

"This is goodbye," repeated Jake grimly. She wondered if she should talk to Lou Standish in the morning, and stared up into his eyes for a long silent moment. She knew suddenly that she would have no heart to continue the company; if Jake wanted to put her into bankruptcy, she would let it happen and go home.

"Then kiss me goodbye, Jake," she begged involuntarily in a voice suddenly grown hoarse, and behind his eyes she saw the empty future that would be hers. "Kiss me one last time for goodbye."

He went white to the lips. "My God," he exclaimed hoarsely. "You never stop, do you?"

He brushed by her and was through the door in a moment. Vanessa stood motionless on the staircase, listening to him go, and the sound of each step was a knife in her heart.

It was over. Vanessa sank down on the steps, her face white, her eyes wide and unblinking. She gave a small incredulous laugh. All his machinations had been unnecessary after all. If he had only known it, Jake Conrad had got his revenge in one tiny moment.

She didn't care if Number 24 was blown into sawdust in the night, she saw with wonder. That had been nothing but a blind. It was Jake she wanted, nothing else. And Jake did not want her.

Chapter 18

During the next few days Vanessa worked as though Death were watching her again, making decisions, giving orders and executing designs with a speed and precision that seemed to be beyond her conscious control. She did not know where her energy came from.

In the evenings, it left her. When Vanessa walked out of the door of Number 24 at night she walked straight into an emotional and intellectual no-man's-land. To think or to feel would be to remember that Jake Conrad did not love her, that from now on she walked in darkness.

It was a blessing that she had her work to keep her going, she knew; otherwise she might have crawled into bed and stayed there. She seemed suddenly to have a dozen different things to do with her time, a dozen irons in the fire—all keeping her from the occupation of thinking.

Her summer designs were well in hand, and the round of fabric salesmen was just beginning. This time, she noticed, she felt calmer, more confident about her choices, more decided about what she wanted.

She fought long and hard with Robert over the designs for the signature fabric and emblem that Colin had sent her. In the end they both compromised—Vanessa agreeing to give up on using the fabric for the summer line and Robert agreeing that they would launch the new appliqué on several items and commission another company to manufacture a T-shirt under the Number 24 label.

She had seen David Latham socially a few times, but now she stopped. He was very intelligent, a nice man, and she enjoyed his company, but he was starting to wonder why she would not go to bed with him. She would have liked to be able to go to bed with him and forget Jake, but she remembered her years in Larry's bed while she was trying to forget Jace, and she knew it would be no good.

There might never be another man for her. The fact that she had destroyed his love for her didn't mean she could also destroy her own love for him, no matter how much she wished to.

In spite of her resolve to bankrupt Number 24 if Jake called the debenture, she hadn't, in the end, been able to face the possibility. So she had called Lou Standish. She had told him she wanted to buy up the debenture so she could own the company outright, nothing more; and she had asked him if the family would lend her the money. He had agreed to it instantly, without consulting them, and the Standishes were using this as an excuse to keep in touch with her: Lou phoned her with family news and messages while he was working out the details with David Latham. She wondered, not for the first time, how much of the family's fondness for her was guilt.