The Real Deal (16 page)

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Authors: Lucy Monroe

BOOK: The Real Deal
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She'd done all she could do.
If Simon wasn't convinced, maybe Daniel
should
consider sending another negotiator to Port Mulqueen. Her stomach cramped at the thought, but she was leaving. Today. This morning. She had every intention of being on the first ferry off Simon's island.
Fifteen minutes later, she went looking for Jacob to tell him she would be going. She found him in the kitchen.
He looked up when she entered, his wizened gaze taking in her perfectly pressed suit. “I'll have blue corn cakes ready in a few minutes. Did you want bacon or sausage with them?”
“Neither, thank you.”
“It's not a good idea to start the day without putting a bit of protein in you.”
“I'll stop for breakfast when I get back to Port Mulqueen.” It was a lie. She knew she wouldn't be eating any time soon, but the small deception didn't hurt anyone and it would keep Jacob from haranguing her.
“You going to the mainland today?”
“Yes.”
“Will you be back in time for dinner?”
“I won't be back at all. I came in to say thank you for your hospitality and let you know I was leaving.”
“Wasn't my hospitality, missy. The bed you slept in belongs to the boss. He bought the food you ate.”
“Then please pass my gratitude on to him.”
“Why don't you do it yourself? He'll probably be down for breakfast before too long.”
Just the prospect of seeing Simon again made her sensitive stomach twist with nausea. “I don't want to miss the ferry.” Good. Her voice was steady, professionally void of emotion. She even forced what she hoped was a credible smile to her lips. “Let's be honest, Jacob, there's no guarantee Simon will come down for breakfast at all.”
“Thought you were supposed to convince him about that merger Mr. Eric Brant wants.”
“Simon listened to the proposal last night.” And if Eric wanted the merger so darn bad, he could convince his cousin of its merits. Brant Computers stood to gain by the merger just as much as Extant Corporation did.
“And he agreed to it?” The incredulity in Jacob's voice left her in no doubt how unlikely he found such a scenario.
“No.”
“Then shouldn't you be staying to try to talk him into it?”
She didn't know why Jacob cared about her business, but she wished he didn't. “I've done what I could. I can't force Simon to my point of view.”
“Seems like a pretty sloppy way to do business to me.”
Her tolerance and patience dried up at the same time. “This may come as a debilitating shock to you, but what you think of the way I conduct my business is of no concern to me whatsoever.”
Jacob's eyes narrowed. “No need to get snippy with me, missy.”
She closed her eyes and counted to ten. It worked in all the books she read. Real life was less disciplined. “You're right, Jacob. I'm leaving now,” she said through gritted teeth, and then turned on her heel and did just that.
 
 
Simon walked into the kitchen, irritated by the anticipation he felt at the prospect of seeing Amanda.
“Good morning, Jacob.”
“Morning, sir.”
There was a pile of shiny fabric on the counter next to where Jacob stood putting blue corn cakes and bacon on a plate for Simon. The material was the same color as Amanda's pajamas. The pajamas responsible for a night filled with restless sleep interspersed with highly erotic dreams.
“Is Amanda up yet?”
“Up and gone.”
“Gone?” Was she walking along the water again? She seemed to really enjoy doing that.
Jacob laid Simon's plate of breakfast on the table. “Took the first ferry to the mainland.”
She'd probably gone to have a war council with Eric now that Simon had listened to her arguments. He wondered what her next step in her campaign to convince him would be. He should tell her now that he had listened to her proposal, there was no reason for her to stay on the island.
But what he should do and what he wanted to do were poles apart, especially after seeing her in that wet dream–producing nightwear.
“What time do we expect her back?”
“We don't.”
Simon paused with a loaded fork halfway to his mouth. “What?”
“She's not coming back, sir. Said to tell you she appreciated the hospitality.”
“The hell you say.”
Jacob just shrugged. “Thought she'd stay to do a little more convincing on that merger business. Told her so, but she pretty much told me to mind my own business.”
Amanda had left? Without saying goodbye? There was something about this situation that didn't feel right. Like Jacob said, it made no sense for her to leave without making at least one more effort to convince him about the merger.
“Was there some reason she had to go back to the mainland so early this morning?”
“Don't know, sir. She didn't say anything. Just that she didn't want to miss the ferry.”
Simon's gaze slid to the clock on the kitchen wall. The ferry had left the dock twenty minutes ago.
Amanda was gone. Telling himself that was exactly what he wanted did nothing to alleviate the hollow sensation inside him.
Why the hell hadn't she even bothered to say goodbye?
Jacob held up the pile of rich burgundy satin. “She left this behind.”
So it
was
her pajamas. “We'll have to get it back to her.” His spirits lifted at the thought of having an excuse to see her again.
“Don't know if she wants it. Found it in the garbage in the bathroom, sir.”
“You found Amanda's pajamas in the garbage?” That didn't make any sense. “Were they damaged in some way?” Maybe her woman's thing had started last night and she'd been surprised by it, ruining the silk bottoms to the nightwear.
“Not a thing wrong with them, sir.”
“Then they must have fallen into the garbage by accident.”
“Could be. Don't see how, but it could have happened.”
“Well, what do you think happened?”
“Think she threw them away, sir. She was meticulous in cleaning her other things from the room. Don't see how she could have overlooked these.”
Simon measured Jacob with his eyes. The older man had a studiously blank expression on his face. Why had he brought the pajamas to his attention, if he believed Amanda had tossed them on purpose? More worryingly, why had she thrown them away?
The ferry announcement had ended several minutes ago, but the words were still echoing in Amanda's head. Ferry service had been suspended until further notice. There had been an accident on one of the major routes and the single ferry that serviced Simon's sparsely populated island had been re-routed to the busier one. Ferries didn't have accidents, did they?
They were big. They traveled the same stretch of water over and over again. So, how had this happened?
More importantly, what was she going to do? The only public facility she knew of on the island was a small general store and deli—deli being a euphemism for a two-foot-long glass case with lunch-meats and potato salad on display. There was a single table with two chairs for customers to sit on. It was not somewhere she would be comfortable staying for several hours while waiting for ferry service to resume.
She could just stay where she was.
She grimaced. She'd been sitting in this poky little waiting room for two hours already. There wasn't even a vending machine where she could buy a bottle of water. According to the ferry officials, it could be hours before service resumed. Considering how much she wanted to get off the blasted island, it would be just her luck that the ferry wouldn't be available until the next morning.
Surely not. She tried to console herself with the thought that they had to have at least one trip to the mainland that day. She wasn't the only one who wanted to get off the island. Okay, maybe she'd been one of three cars that had been in line for the morning ferry and the other two had left after the first announcement of delay. Looking around the now empty waiting room, she had to accede it was possible she was the only passenger
desperate
to leave the small island.
“You might as well go back to wherever you've been visiting, ma'am. It's going to be a while before we get a ferry off the dock.”
She turned her head at the sound of the man's voice. He was wearing the bright orange vest that indicated ferry personnel.
“How did you know I was visiting?” she asked, apropos of nothing.
“It's a small island. Working the ferry, you get to know all the residents after a while, even the weekenders.”
“Oh.” What an intelligent response, Amanda. But she felt fresh out of intelligence at the moment.
“Who are you visiting?”
She thought about refusing to answer, but it wasn't a state secret after all. “Simon Brant.”
The sandy haired man's blue eyes widened. “He doesn't have a lot of visitors,
especially overnight ones
.”
She made a noncommittal sound, not liking the implication of his emphasis on “overnight visitors.”
“The security at his place is pretty tight,” the ferry official remarked, obviously fishing for more information on the elusive islander.
Remembering Jacob's insistence on making a visual identification the first time she visited, she had to agree. “I suppose he sees the need for it, being both an inventor and computer designer.”
It struck her that Simon had shown a lot of trust allowing her to stay in his home like he had. What if she had been a corporate spy for Extant, more interested in his designs than the merger? The thought brought forth a niggling memory. Daniel had commented on Simon's current project like he knew what it was. How could that be true?
Jacob was as loyal to Simon as any person could be. She would stake her life on that. So, how had Daniel found out anything about Simon's work? Or had he? Perhaps she had misunderstood what her boss had said. She'd been pretty hot about his suggestion she use her body for the cause.
“They say he's a genius.”
She nodded.
“And eccentric.”
Her lips tilted in a wry smile. “You could certainly describe him that way. You said,
they say
. Don't you know? Haven't you met him?”
The young man shook his head. “He keeps to himself. Him and that old man who lives there with him.”
“Jacob is the housekeeper.”
“A security expert too, according to gossip.”
She looked more closely at the sandy-haired man. He looked young, but his eyes were filled with the avid curiosity of an inveterate gossip. “For not knowing him, you certainly know a lot about Simon.”
“Not as much as you do, I bet.” His smile once again implied an intimacy between her and Simon.
She wouldn't let this one slide. “It's strictly a business relationship.” Still smarting from her humiliating mistake in the other direction the night before, she was sharper than she intended to be.
The ferry official's smile didn't dim. If anything, he contrived to look smug. “He doesn't bring business acquaintances to the island.”
“I suppose gossip said that too,” she said in scathing tones that once again went right over his head.
He shrugged. “Yep.”
“Well, he brought me and I can assure you there is nothing except business between Simon Brant and myself.”
“You'd say that wouldn't you? Not wanting gossip and all.” His knowing look indicated that gossip about Simon's houseguest would be rife on the island, regardless of what she might want.

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