Flash (22 page)

Everything glittered on board the
Private Island
last night, including the new partnership between Jasper Sloan and Olivia Chantry. Ms. Chantry is the proprietor of Light Fantastic, the event design and production company responsible for turning the
Private Island
into Foil Town.

Rumors have circulated to the effect that, once in control of Glow, Inc., venture capitalist Sloan would likely sell or merge the firm. Family members and longtime employees alike reportedly feared that he would take the money and run.

But those who witnessed the cozy working relationship between the twosome on Friday report that
Mr. Sloan is not running anywhere. At least, not alone….

“Foil Town?”
Olivia sputtered past a mouthful of coffee. “Where does Andrews get off calling my Silver Galaxy Foods Night production Foil Town?”

“Olivia …”

“Mrs. Silverthorne wanted a silver motif, and that's exactly what she got. I always give the client what she wants.”

“Olivia, I don't give a damn about Andrews calling your event Foil Town,” Todd said sharply. “I want to know if it's true?”

“Okay, so maybe Silver Galaxy Foods Night wasn't the most elegant, sophisticated production Light Fantastic has ever done.” She pushed the newsletter aside. “It sure as heck didn't deserve to be called Foil Town.”

“For the last time, I'm not talking about your event.” Exasperation simmered in Todd's voice. “Is the rest of the article true? Do you and Sloan have something personal going?”

Something personal? She took another slug of coffee. Something personal?

Only the best sex she'd ever had.

Granted, she might not be a great judge, she reminded herself. Her experience had been limited to some early minor adventures and a husband who had never loved her.

But she was very sure that the event that she and Jasper had staged in her cabin in the wee hours of Saturday morning rivaled anything Light Fantastic had ever produced.

She was not about to discuss it with her younger brother or anyone else, however.

“Don't worry, Todd,” she said in the tone of voice she reserved for difficult suppliers. “Andrews read a bit too much into what he saw. The truth is, Jasper and I have decided that the only way to squelch the rumors of a sale or merger is for the two of us to present a united front.”

“It was all for show?”

“Sort of.” Mercifully, the call-interrupt beeped in her ear. “Hang on a second, that's my other line.” She switched quickly to pick up the incoming call. “This is Olivia.”

“Ms. Chantry, this is Hamilton down in the lobby. There's a Mr. Sloan here to see you.”

A curious sense of panic swept through her. She hadn't yet made up her mind how much to confide in Jasper. “Tell him—” Her mind blanked. “Tell him I'm not here, Hamilton.”

“Sorry, Ms. Chantry,” Hamilton said apologetically. “He's already in the elevator. Want me to follow him on up?”

“No, never mind. It's all right, Hamilton. Thanks.” She switched back to the other line. “Todd? There's someone at the door. Or there will be in a few seconds. I've got to run. I'll see you and Dixon tomorrow at the pier. We'll go over the entire Lancaster fund-raiser program.”

“Wait, Olivia, I want to talk to you some more about this situation between you and Sloan.”

“Don't worry, everything's under control. I keep telling you, I can handle Jasper Sloan.”

The doorbell chimed. Olivia flinched. Now she was jumping at the sound of a simple doorbell, she thought, disgusted. Maybe she had been drinking a little too much coffee.

“Bye, Todd.”

The bell bonged again as she hung up the phone. She took a deep breath, pasted a polite smile on her face, and went to open the door.

Jasper stood in the hall. He had a white paper sack in one hand. The smell of something hot out of an oven wafted through the air.

She realized that she had not yet ingested anything except caffeine since getting out of bed. She eyed the sack and grudgingly held the door open.

“A little early for a Sunday morning, isn't it?” she asked.

“We've got a lot to talk about.” He held up the paper bag. “I brought something to sop up the coffee.”

“That was very clever of you.” She closed the door and led the way down into the living room. “I woke up this morning and realized I had no food in the house. I've got to do some grocery shopping.”

Jasper went straight into the kitchen and made himself at home. He opened a cupboard door, found a plate for the scones, and then checked the refrigerator.

“We're in luck,” he said. “You've got some butter and marmalade.”

“And coffee.”

“All the basic food groups.” He eyed the copy of
Hard Currency
lying on the counter. “I take it you've read Andy Andrews's report on Silver Galaxy Foods Night?”

“I certainly did.” Fresh outrage swept through her. “He had the nerve to say that Light Fantastic turned the
Private Island
into Foil Town. After all that gushing I did over his stupid newsletter, too. Little twit.”

“It wasn't the, uh, Foil Town reference that caught my attention,” Jasper said dryly. “It was the mention of our cozy relationship.”

“Oh, that.” She did not look at him as she picked up the coffeepot.

“Yes, that.”

“My brother called about it.” She busied herself pouring two mugs full of the strong, dark-roast brew. “I told him it was all part of your united front plan.”

Jasper gave her an enigmatic look as he opened the marmalade jar. “Very good. That was the right answer.”

She focused her attention on the task of getting two knives out of the silverware drawer and onto the counter.

She did not understand the edgy feeling that gripped her. It was just one very short night of sex, she reminded herself, not proof that cold fusion actually worked.

There was something disturbingly intimate about the sight of Jasper moving comfortably around her kitchen. Memories of how it had felt to lie beneath him while she experienced the orgasm of the century did weird things to her concentration this morning. She had to think carefully in order to remember how to arrange the knives beside the plates.

Jasper put the platter of warm scones down on the counter between the coffee cups. He sat down on one of the stools.

Olivia slid onto the stool next to his and picked up a scone. She inhaled with deep appreciation. It really did smell wonderful. She lathered butter on it.

“Ready to talk about the blackmailer?” Jasper asked. “Yes.” She sighed around a mouthful of scone.

There really was no choice, she thought. She had awakened this morning with the knowledge that Jasper was right. Once she had started to think clearly, the necessity of telling him the whole story had been obvious. After all, he was involved in this mess. He had already been threatened once. There was no telling what the blackmailer would do next.

“I'm listening.”

“Later,” she said. “We'll go to the Kesgrove Museum as soon as it opens. It's easier to talk about Logan when you're standing in front of his art.”

He watched her. “This is about your husband?”

“Yes. It's all about Logan. Many of the truly depressing things in my life have been about him.”

It was early. They had the museum to themselves. Their footsteps echoed on the marble tile floor of the Contemporary Northwest Artists wing. Olivia came to a halt in front of one of the dark, murky canvases.

Jasper studied the picture. “Sort of like standing inside a thunderstorm.”

“That was Logan. His work is a good illustration of the forces that were at war inside him. Eventually the storm overwhelmed him.”

“You said you were only married for a few months?”

Olivia nodded. “It was a mistake, of course. I think I knew it all along deep inside.”

“I see.”

“We met when he wandered into my office to ask for part-time work. He needed money to keep himself in paint and supplies. Light Fantastic was a very tiny business in those days, but I was able to give him some freelance assignments.”

“What happened?”

She smiled slightly. “I was stunned by his work. And that was just the commercial art that he did for me. When I saw some of his personal work, I knew that I had to introduce him to Wilbur.”

“Wilbur Holmes?” Jasper raised his brows. “Your uncle's close friend?”

She nodded. “Wilbur owned and operated one of the most exclusive galleries in Seattle at the time. He took one look at Logan's work and knew it for the brilliant art that it is.”

Jasper glanced at her. “So that part of Crawford Lee Wilder's article in
West Coast Neo
was true? You were responsible for launching Logan Dane's career?”

“Wilbur was the one who got it off the ground. All I did was introduce Logan to him.” Olivia shrugged. “And I made a couple of suggestions about marketing Logan's art that worked.”

“When did marriage come up?”

“Logan and I became friends. Good friends.” She hesitated. “Looking back, I think he was grateful to me.”

“Looking back,” Jasper said, “I think he figured he could use you to further his career.”

She shot him a quick, sidelong glance. She wanted to argue, but she knew that he was right. Logan had used her. “For my part, I thought that the friendship between Logan and myself would make a solid foundation
for a lasting relationship. I thought I loved him.”

“Don't feel bad,” Jasper said. “I once made the mistake of thinking that a mutual interest in business would make a good foundation for marriage.”

“It only goes to show, I guess.”

“What does it show?”

She gave him a rueful smile. “Darned if I know.”

“Go on with your story.”

“Logan was easy to like. He was charismatic and capable of great charm. He played the role of the passionate, intense artist to the hilt.” She hesitated. “Logan's family was thrilled when we got married.”

“Because you did so much for his career?”

“No.” She sighed. “Because they thought that I could save him from himself.”

“Hell of a job, saving someone from himself. Not real do-able.”

“No. I realize now that Logan's brother, Sean, and his parents must have understood intuitively that Logan was the kind of person who could easily selfdestruct. They hoped my practical, businesslike nature would help stabilize him. But I failed.”

“Saving Logan Dane was Logan Dane's job,” Jasper said. “Not yours.”

She turned her head quickly at that, but Jasper was gazing at the painting on the wall.

“At any rate,” she continued after a moment, “it didn't take me long to realize that I had made a horrific mistake in marrying Logan.”

“Friendship wasn't enough.”

“No.” Olivia swept out a hand to indicate the ominous canvases that surrounded them. “I found out too
late that the only thing Logan could love was his art. He would do anything for it. He needed recognition and success the way some people need drugs.”

“So he turned the business side of his career over to you.” Jasper went to stand in front of another bleak canvas. “And you created the legend of Logan Dane.”

“Logan created his own legend,” she said. “All I did was help market it.”

“And you did it brilliantly.” Jasper turned to face her. “What does this have to do with blackmail?”

She exhaled deeply. “Unfortunately, while I don't think that Logan ever loved anyone or anything except his own talent, he was quite capable of short-term obsessions. He developed one for the young woman who modeled for him.”

“What happened?”

“Logan convinced himself that he was desperately in love at last. A great, tragic, romantic love. He recorded everything in a journal that I found after his death.” Olivia grimaced. “Knowing Logan, I'm sure he wanted me to find it. He was obsessed with his own legend, and I'm sure he considered the journal part of it.”

“Who was the object of this great, tragic, romantic love?”

“My cousin Nina. She was still in college at the time. Logan was larger-than-life. He was already being hailed as a magnificent talent.” Olivia shrugged. “He overwhelmed her for a few weeks.”

Jasper's gaze was very steady. “They had an affair?”

“Yes. I found out about it almost immediately, thanks to Uncle Rollie.”

Jasper frowned. “How did Rollie find out about it?”

She smiled. “My uncle always seemed to know stuff before anyone else. It was one of the things that made him a good businessman. He always claimed that information was power.”

“I see.” Jasper's voice was suddenly very neutral in tone.

“When I confronted Logan about his relationship with Nina, he was too arrogant and too obsessed with her to bother to deny it.”