Flash (6 page)

He had to fight the urge to watch every move she made. Something about her fascinated him. Probably the fact that she owned forty-nine percent of his new company, he thought grimly.
This is business, not sex. Get the right message to the hormones before they do something really, really stupid here
.

It had been sheer curiosity as much as his innate desire for information that had led him to stop at the Seattle Public Library before making his way to Light Fantastic today. He had found the year-old edition of
West Coast Neo
magazine and read the piece Crawford Lee Wilder had written about Logan Dane and his so-called Dark Muse.

Wilder had got it all wrong, Jasper decided. Olivia Chantry was not an arrogant, imperious, ball-busting Amazon with predatory marketing instincts. She was a
sharp, intelligent, vital woman who gave off sexual sparks.

He swiftly reviewed the facts in the magazine article and compared them with the flesh-and-blood woman in front of him. He concluded immediately that Crawford Lee Wilder had probably been secretly intimidated by Olivia. The strength in her had obviously been more of a challenge than Wilder could handle. The journalist had taken his revenge by turning her into a notorious part of the Logan Dane legend.

She was tall, Jasper noted. In a pair of heels she would look him straight in the eye.

Her height and slender figure did interesting things to the long lines of her fluidly draped menswear-style trousers. The pale lime green linen shirt fell elegantly over small, firm breasts.

The sculpted line of her shoulders and spine, together with the easy, energetic way she moved, hinted at the benefits of a regular physical fitness routine. She might be careless about her filing habits, he reflected, but she looked as though she was highly disciplined about her workout.

Goal-oriented
. Like himself, he thought.

Her interesting, fine-boned face was framed by glossy red-brown hair that she wore in a casual twist. The sleek designer frames of her glasses emphasized the perceptive awareness in her wide hazel-green eyes.

Jasper sighed. He knew only too well that it was his dangerous lot in life to be attracted to intelligent women. The older he got, the more pronounced the taste had become.

“Sorry about the greeting you got when you arrived.
We're a little busy at the moment.” Olivia waved a graceful hand to indicate the busy scene on the opposite side of the windowed wall. “We've got four major events coming up in quick succession. One of them is a reception for Camelot Blue investors and clients.”

He inclined his head. “That explains the giant glowing blue sword-in-the-stone and the fake cave.”

“Uh-huh.” She sprawled lightly in her chair. The casual pose belied the glint of wary assessment with which she watched Jasper.

“What else is on the schedule?” he asked politely.

“Let's see.” She held up one hand and ticked off items on her fingers. “We've got the annual Silver Galaxy Foods Night event, which will be an overnight cruise this year. A fund-raiser for Eleanor Lancaster—”

He raised his brows. “As in Eleanor Lancaster, the candidate for governor?”

“One and the same.”

That event had to have been a major coup for Light Fantastic, he thought. The conventional wisdom and virtually every newspaper pundit in the state were busy predicting that Eleanor Lancaster would easily win the election. The event firm that produced her fund-raisers would be in a very nice position when the client became Governor Lancaster.

“I'm impressed,” he said.

“Don't be.” Olivia gave him a cheerful, conspiratorial grin. “I've got an inside track. My brother, Todd, is her policy consultant and speechwriter.”

“Convenient.”

She raised one shoulder in an elegant shrug. “Business is business.”

He wondered how far she took that bit of philosophy. What exactly
had
she done with the fortune in Logan Dane paintings that Crawford Lee Wilder claimed she had inherited after Dane got run over by a bull?

“I think I've got invitations to every event you've mentioned so far,” he said.

“Planning to attend any of them?”

“No. I don't get out a lot.”

Olivia looked amused. “You'll probably be invited to the last big production on my list this summer, too.”

“What is it?”

“The annual Glow, Inc., company picnic.”

He smiled slightly. “You're right. I expect to be on the guest list. And I will definitely attend that event.”

He turned back to the view out the office window. There was a fair amount of purposeful activity taking place in the studio, he noticed. An array of tools, art supplies, and electrical equipment littered the floor. The young man who had been introduced as Bolivar Chantry was deep into the guts of the control panel that had recently gone awry.

Zara Chantry was busy at the drafting table. Her wealth of golden blond hair glowed in the light that filtered through the huge factory loft windows behind her. Jasper wondered why she looked vaguely familiar.

Two androgynous figures, both artistically thin and terribly trendy, were at work in one corner. They appeared to be constructing huge foil flowers for a large silver foil vase. Jasper recalled that the pair had been introduced as Bernie and Matty. He was not positive which name went with which person, though.
Maybe when he figured out which was the male and which was the female he'd get that part straight.

“Have a seat,” Olivia said behind him.

“Thank you.” Jasper turned to survey the one unoccupied chair in the office. It was heaped with a variety of vendors' catalogs.

Olivia followed his gaze. “Sorry about that.” She started to get to her feet. “I'll clear those off for you.”

“Never mind. I'll handle it.” He picked up the stack of catalogs and hesitated briefly while he considered his few available options. There was no place to set his burden.

“Just put them on the floor,” Olivia said carelessly. She held up her latte cup. “Coffee? This came from the café downstairs, but I can make some for you, if you like.”

He glanced at the gleaming black industrial-sized coffee machine in the corner as he sat down. “No thanks. I had some earlier.”

“So did I.” She took a deep swallow and set the cup down. “But I've been mainlining the stuff lately. The past few weeks have been murder.”

For some reason Jasper had a sudden vision of his battle for life on the Pelapili cliffs. “An interesting choice of words.”

“You know what I mean.”

He watched her lean back in her chair. She propped both feet on the edge of her desk and stacked her heels. The cuffed legs of her trousers fell gracefully away from her slender ankles. He hoped she would not light up a cigar.

“Yes,” he said. “I know what you mean.”

A cool, critical gleam lit her eyes. “Ever since we got the news about Uncle Rollie and Wilbur, I've been swamped.”

“I apologize for not getting back to Seattle more quickly. I only got word of your uncle's death a couple of days ago.”

“Your office said you were out of touch.”

“Sort of. I was supposed to be on an extended vacation.”

She did not appear to be appeased by that explanation, but she let it go. “It was a shock.”

“The deaths of your uncle and his friend? Yes, it was.”

“Rollie and Wilbur Holmes were more than friends. They were together for nearly forty years. Absolutely devoted to each other.”

“I believe your uncle once said something about Wilbur Holmes owning an art gallery?”

“That's right. Wilbur sold it last year, though.” Olivia sighed. “He and my uncle planned to do more traveling.”

“I see.”

“I'll miss them both.” She picked up her coffee cup and raised it in a small salute. “They were a couple of the good guys.”

“I never met Wilbur Holmes, but I got to know your uncle a little. I respected his business skills and his sense of the market. He was a valuable client.”

“Yes, I imagine he was.” She smiled a little too sweetly. “Glow's profits have started to climb again in recent months. But I suppose you already know that.”

“I'm aware of that fact, yes.”

“All that money Uncle Rollie poured into research and development a while back is finally starting to pay off. Glow is poised to move out of its regional niche. It's on the brink of becoming a major player in state-of-the-art light technology.”

Olivia's lecturing tone told him that she had decided to cast him in the role of the outsider who needed to be brought up to speed. The tactic was a not-so-subtle one designed to put him firmly in the role of the junior partner in this relationship.

He decided it was time to flex a little muscle.

“It was my money that good old Uncle Rollie used to finance Glow's R&D expansion.” He smiled slightly. “But I guess you already know that.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You mean, it was your company that lined up the investor financing for the expansion.”

“No,” Jasper said very deliberately. “That's usually the way I work, but in the case of Glow, I was the sole investor.”

“What do you mean?”

“It was my own, personal money that went into the R&D expansion.”

Her answering smile was as bright as a highly polished rapier. “Tell me, is it customary for a venture capitalist such as yourself to arrange to inherit half of the client's company in the event the client dies?”

“Venture capitalism is just what the name implies. Capital for high-risk projects. People come to us when they can't get funding from mainstream banks and lending institutions. Loan repayment arrangements vary. I try to be creative.”

She raised her brows. “Your arrangement with my uncle was certainly creative. You wound up owning half the company.”

“I should probably point out that I did not inherit
half
of the company,” he said very evenly. “I inherited fifty-one percent. Controlling interest. For all practical purposes, I own Glow.”

“So Winchmore said.” She drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair. Her jaw tightened. Her cool smile, however, did not waver. “Well,
partner
, you'll need a quick rundown on the status of the situation at Glow, Inc.”

He was amused by the new attempt to establish herself in the driver's seat. “Thanks, but that won't be necessary. I stopped by the Glow offices before I came here today. I told all of my managers that I'll want an initial status report by tomorrow morning.”

“I see.” She studied the toes of her stylish silvergray oxfords. “I realize you'll want to cash out as quickly as possible. No problem. I've already talked to Melwood Gill, the chief financial officer at Glow. He says we can put together a generous offer to repurchase your shares in Glow.”

“I've already spoken to Gill. I told him that it won't be necessary to waste any more time structuring a buyout offer.”

She went very still. “I beg your pardon?”

“I'm not open to an offer,” he said gently. “I don't want to sell my fifty-one percent of Glow to you or anyone else. I intend to take Rollie's place as president and CEO of the company.”

Her mouth opened, but no words came forth. She
closed it again. Briskly she removed her oxford-shod feet from the desk and sat up straight in her chair. She folded her hands in front of her. “I naturally assumed you'd want to be bought out.”

“You assumed wrong. Naturally. Don't worry about it. A lot of people make that mistake with me.”

“But you can't possibly be interested in running a company like Glow.”

“Why not?”

“Well, because—” She unclasped her hands and spread them wide. “Because it's not what you do. You're a venture capitalist. You don't run businesses, you arrange financing for them.”

“I've been doing venture capital for over a decade. I'm bored with it. I'm selling my company, Sloan & Associates, to my vice-president. I'm ready for something different.”

She stared at him. “You're telling me you want to take an active role in running Glow?”

“I'm telling you that I own controlling interest in Glow, and I will be calling the shots,” he said very patiently. “Is that clear enough for you?”

“But that doesn't make any sense.”

“It does to me.”

She glared at him. “Venture capitalists are all gamblers at heart. You get your kicks from taking risks on wild-card investments.”

“I'm ready for a change. On the plane trip back here to Seattle I had the opportunity to give the problem of Glow's future a lot of serious thought.”

She gave him a thin smile. “How nice for you.”

He ignored the sarcasm. “The company is at a very
vulnerable stage. It's in a different position now than it was two years ago because of the R&D commitment. But it has not yet carved out a new, stable market niche.”

“Glow is poised to do extremely well.”

“One misstep during the next two years and the company will implode. If that happens, you and I won't be sitting around discussing who's going to be in charge. We'll be hiring bankruptcy lawyers.”

She stiffened. “Things aren't that precarious. You're trying to scare me into agreeing to give you full control.”

“I'm not
asking
you for permission to take charge of Glow,” he said. “I'm telling you that I have already taken control of it.”

“Glow has been a family-held business for nearly fifty years. You have no right to just walk in and take over.”

“Correction. Glow was not a family-held business. It was owned by one man, Rollie Chantry. The fact that he employed most of his relatives at one time or another, is beside the point. None of them own any shares in the company.”

“Correction,” she retorted smoothly. “I now own half of Glow.”