Hot Shot (48 page)

"That's ridiculous, Susannah. He can't take you back unless you decide to go with him."

Susannah didn't look convinced. "I never expected him to show up here. Yank doesn't travel by himself. He can't manage things."

"He seems to have managed things just fine." Paige shook her head in amusement. "I can't believe that's the same man you and Mitch were telling me all those dopey stories about. Susannah, he's incredibly sexy."

Susannah seemed vaguely startled. "Well, he's changed a lot since we started the company. He's certainly a lot better looking than he was when I met him. AH the women he's had in his life these past few years have put him together. I guess it happened so gradually that those of us who are with him all the time barely noticed."

"What do you mean, 'put him together'?"

"They've done his clothes shopping for him and thrown out the awful stuff he used to wear. He had this terrible crew cut right out of the 1950s, and these ugly black glasses with Coke-bottle lenses. His girlfriends cleaned him up, organized his wardrobe, and made him get contacts—that sort of thing, But it's all surface cosmetics. Yank is still Yank. And—" She shivered slightly. "Sometimes he can be scary."

It was the first thing Susannah had said about Yank Yankowski that made any sense to Paige.

As she had done with Mitch, Paige invited Yank to stay the night and fed him a delicious dinner. To Yank's credit, he managed to keep up his end of the conversation throughout most of the meal and only faded out on them a time or two. After the dishes were cleared, he asked Susannah to show him the beach.

She made a great play out of pushing the cork back into a bottle of wine they hadn't quite finished. "Let's do it tomorrow. I'm a bit tired tonight."

"I'd very much like to see the beach now," he said quietly.

"It's late, Yank. And it's a steep climb."

"There's a full moon. We can see quite well."

Susannah shot Paige a pleading glance, and her sister's maternal instincts took over. She set down her dishrag and touched Yank's arm lightly. "Beach tours are my specialty. If you treat me right, I might even let you cop a feel behind the rocks."

Susannah's hands stilled on the cork as Yank's mouth curved in a slow sleepy smile that was almost mesmerizing. Paige was right. Yank had turned into an incredibly attractive man, and she had barely been aware of it.

Paige wove her fingers through his and pulled him toward the doorway. "Don't wait up for us," she called over her shoulder. "I'm not letting him back until I've had my way with him."

For all her bravado, Paige felt awkward the moment the cottage was behind them and they were alone. There was something spooky about him—as if he knew all sorts of things other people didn't. She didn't like being put at a disadvantage with Yank, but she wasn't quite certain how to take control.

The moon lit their way, shining silver on the harsh rocks as they headed down the path to the beach. The night was warm and still, and the waves lapped softly at the shore. She walked to the edge, pretending to be mesmerized by the water, while she tried to ignore the fact that Yank was studying her quite openly.

His scrutiny made her increasingly uncomfortable. She fell back on her old tricks. "Did anyone ever tell you that you're incredibly sexy?"

"Yes."

"Susannah thinks you're a nerd."

"I know."

"Doesn't that bother you?"

"Do you think it should?"

"How would I know? If you want to go through life having everyone think you're weird, I guess that's your problem."

He laughed softly.

His amusement irritated her. It suggested that he understood something she could not even begin to perceive. In retaliation, she reached for the tail of her T-shirt and began to pull it up over her bare breasts. "Let's go in for a swim."

He caught her hands, stilling her movement in a surprisingly firm grip. "No, I don't want you to take off your clothes in front of me."

"God, not another one. First Mitch and now you. What are you? A couple of Buddhists or something?"

"Maybe Mitch understands, too. Seducing either one of us isn't the right thing for you to do. Not now."

"Who made you God? How do you know what's right and wrong for me?"

"I just know, that's all. It occurred to me at dinner exactly how all this might turn out. If we're very, very lucky, of course."

"How what will turn out? What are you talking about?"

He brushed the side of her cheek with his hand in the gentlest gesture she could ever remember receiving from a man, and she looked into eyes that were as wise and compassionate as the eyes of a dime-store Jesus. "You mustn't give yourself to anyone for a while, Paige. Not sexually. It's quite important."

She slapped away his gentle touch with the flat of her hand. "I'll 'give myself to anybody I like! God, you really are a nerd! From now on, you mind your own goddamn business, do you hear me? Fuck you, mister. Just… fuck you."

He gave her a sweet sad smile and turned away to watch the waves.

Susannah made certain she was in bed before Yank and Paige returned from the beach.

She couldn't bear the thought of another discussion about leaving. As she plumped her pillow, she remembered Paige's astonishing reaction to Yank's appearance. Her sister's sexual sparring with Mitch hadn't been at all surprising—Mitch was an incredibly attractive man—but Paige had seemed just as captivated with Yank.

She shut her eyes and tried to relax so she could sleep, but her eyelids kept jumping open.

To distract herself, she began to imagine what it would be like to make love with Yank.

Try as she might, ail she could picture was Yank getting distracted at the crucial moment.

And then, to her utter shame, she felt a flash of desire. For the first time it occurred to her that sexual frustration was something she would have to learn to live with. She was a sensual woman, and that part of her wouldn't go away just because she no longer had a husband to satisfy her. At the same time, she was so bruised that she couldn't imagine ever again making the deep emotional commitment that she needed before she could go to bed with someone.

A picture of Sam hovering over her as they made love took shape in her mind. The pain that accompanied it was so sharp she bit down on her lip.
Don't think about it
, she told herself.
Think about someone else
.

She pondered the bleak sexless years ahead. Once again she tried to envision herself with Yank, but the picture wouldn't take hold. Another picture took its place, one of herself and Mitch. Fantasy was a harmless pursuit, so she gave herself permission to strip off the black trunks that he had worn on the beach. She imagined his shape and size, and her limbs began to feel pleasantly lax. She let him pick her up and lay her down on a blue silk sheet. She conjured up the scent that he carried with him of starched shirt and clean skin.

Her body felt heavy and languid.

She groaned and buried her face into the pillow. As her eyelids squeezed shut, Sam's mouth took shape in her mind. Sam's mouth—hard and determined—whispering a lifelong litany of traitorous love words.

She got up very early the next morning, still groggy from her awful night. Holding her sandals in her hand so she wouldn't make any noise, she slipped across the front room toward the door so she could get away before Yank awakened. Later she would be ready to face him, but not yet.

"Susannah?"

She moaned with frustration as Yank slipped out of his bedroom. His hair was tousled and he had pulled on the wrinkled chinos he had been wearing the night before. The rest of him was uncovered. She didn't realize until that moment that she had never seen Yank without a shirt. His chest was lean almost to the point of boniness, but there was a tautness about his flesh that made his thinness appealing.

"I'm going into town," she said, anxious to get away before he stopped her. "I thought I'd get some pastries for breakfast."

"We don't actually need any pastries." He walked over to the kitchen table, where he picked up a ripe peach from a bowl of fruit and bit into it. He chewed slowly, then looked down at the peach as if he had never seen one before. "It would be easiest on you, Susannah, if you simply resigned yourself to going back with me this afternoon."

"This afternoon? That's impossible."

"Would you prefer to wait until tomorrow morning?"

"No, I—"

"This afternoon, then." He made the statement with ominous finality.

"Yank, I don't want to go back. Not yet. Don't press me on this."

"Someone has to press you. I was very disappointed with Mitch. He should have brought you back last week."

"I'm not a piece of cargo! Listen to me, Yank. The thought of facing Sam—I just can't do it yet."

"Of course you can. You're quite strong, Susannah. You need to remind yourself of that."

She didn't feel at all strong. She felt like a little girl with a string of broken balloons woven through her fingers. "Being forced to face Sam a dozen times a day is a little more than I can handle right now."

"The company depends on you."

She threw down her sandals. They skidded across the floor and banged into the leg of a chair. "Forget about the company! I'm sick of hearing about it. If we believe the Gospel according to Gamble, SysVal is just as important as Christianity. I don't buy that anymore. We're making a computer, for God's sake. A machine. That's all." She waved her hand toward the ceiling. "See! The sky didn't fall. I spoke blasphemy and nothing happened."

Yank looked strained, as if being near such an outpouring of emotion had exhausted him.

He dropped the peach pit into the waste basket. "SysVal isn't three kids in a garage anymore. It's a company filled with people who have to pay their mortgages and support their families."

"I'm not responsible for that. All those people aren't my responsibility."

"Yes, they are. You're essential to SysVal."

"I'm the most replaceable of the partners, and you know it."

"You're the least replaceable. I'm surprised you don't realize that. From the very beginning, you're the only one of us who has always been able to see the whole picture.

The rest of us only see parts."

"That's ridiculous. Mitch sees it all."

"Better than I do. Better than Sam, maybe. But Mitch's business background has given him biases you don't have. And Mitch and Sam give each other energy, but they don't really understand each other. Without you interpreting for them, they can't even talk."

It was a long speech for him. He began to stare off into space, and she assumed that he had worn himself out. But he was merely taking a few moments to arrange the rest of his thoughts properly. "You're not a visionary like Sam or a marketing strategist like Mitch.

You can't design like I do. But you understand people, and you're the one who keeps us on track. If it weren't for you, SysVal would have been lost in chaos long ago. You have this way of keeping order."

The part of her that wasn't miserable was gratified that Yank thought so highly of what she did. Somehow, his praise meant more to her than any compliments she had ever received from either Sam or Mitch.

"Mitch wants you to come back when you're ready, Susannah. He told me quite explicitly that I was not to force you to return."

"I'm a free human being," she said with what she hoped passed for conviction. "You can't force me."

"That may be, but freedom is relative. I have information that Mitch has ordered me not to divulge. If you knew this information, you would immediately return."

Although she had known Mitch was keeping something back from her, for the first time she grew alarmed. "What information? What are you talking about?"

"It's quite disturbing, Susannah."

"Don't you dare do this to me! If you know something I should know, tell me. I don't care what Mitch says."

"Oh, I intend to tell you. I was quite surprised that Mitch thought he could bully me like that."

"What's happened, Yank? What's this all about?"

Yank wandered over to the window and looked out at the view for a few moments. Then he turned back to her. "A few days after you left, Sam began to lobby our Board of Directors."

"That's not unusual. Sam is always lobbying the board for something."

"This time his goal was quite different."

Susannah felt a chill of apprehension deep in the pit of her stomach. "What do you mean?

What's he done?"

"Susannah, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but Sam is trying to convince the board to sell SysVal."

Chapter 25

When Paige awakened, Susannah told her what had happened and tried to convince her sister to return to San Francisco with them. But Paige shrugged her off, insisting she had already made plans to go to Sardinia. She immediately began the business of closing up her cottage and arranged for a jeep to come and get all three of them. Their relationship was still so fragile that Susannah was reluctant to press her. At the same time, she felt so emotionally intertwined with her sister that she didn't want a lengthy separation. What if they fell back into their old antagonistic pattern?

Their parting at the airport wasn't as difficult as it might have been because Yank disappeared at the last moment and both of them had to set off after him. Paige found him with a group of passengers ready to board a flight to Marrakech. She took him back to the proper gate just as Susannah had given up all hope of locating him.

He absentmindedly passed his ticket and boarding pass over to Susannah, then turned back to Paige. "Please remember that request I made when we were on the beach. It's very important."

Susannah looked at them curiously, trying to figure out what Yank was talking about.

Paige ran her fingers along her purse strap. "What's it worth to you?"

"Worth?"

"Yeah. Are you willing to put your money where your mouth is?" Her eyes swept over him insolently. "And I'll just bet your mouth has been in some very interesting places."

Yank flushed. "You're suggesting I make the same agreement?"