Flash (39 page)

“We've both made mistakes in the commitment department,” she reminded him.

“I've thought about that. I've decided that our previous mistakes can be attributed to the fact that we made commitments to the wrong people. People who didn't have the same understanding of the word
commitment
that we have.”

“I see.” She looked down at the vinegar bottle as though it were a lit firecracker.

“I figure that two people who have a mutual, shared definition of the concept of commitment have a much better chance of making a marriage work.”

“You once said something about a marriage of convenience. If you're under the impression that things might be simpler all the way around at Glow if we got married—”

“Don't get me wrong,” Jasper said quickly. “I don't think that a marriage between us would be all that convenient. I have a nasty feeling that there will be times when we drive each other crazy.”

She smiled slowly. “We might make it if neither one of us brings any filing home.”

The look in her eyes made him think that he ought to invest in a red cape and blue tights. He had the feeling he could leap over tall buildings and catch bullets in his teeth.

“It's a deal,” he said. “We leave the filing in the office.”

Olivia opened her eyes and looked at the glowing numerals on the bedside clock. Two in the morning.

She sat straight up in bed. “Good grief, Jasper, I just realized we
can't
possibly get married.”

Beside her, Jasper groaned into his pillow. He did not turn over.

She looked at him. The city lights showed her that he was sprawled on his stomach. She could see his sleek, bare shoulders above the tide line of the sheet. His dark hair was rumpled from sleep.

“Jasper? Did you hear me?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Say something.”

There was a short pause before he finally mumbled more words into the pillow. “Okay. Why can't we get married?”

She frowned. “Everyone will think I'm marrying you because of Glow.”

“You already own forty-nine percent of the company,” he muttered with what sounded like weary patience.

“Forty-nine percent is not a controlling interest. People will naturally assume that I'm marrying you in order to exert more control over the company.”

There was another brief silence, as if Jasper was trying to work through the logic of her statement.

“By controlling me?” he finally asked on a yawn.

“Yes. Exactly.”

“Is that why you agreed to marry me?”

“Of course not.”

“Good.” He sounded as if he was about to slide back into sleep. “'Cause it would be kind of a bad idea.”

That gave her pause.

“Are you implying that, as your wife, I won't be able to exert a little influence over you?” she asked very sweetly.

“You'll be able to exert all kinds of influence over me,” he mumbled. “I can't wait to be influenced by you. I fantasize about being influenced by you. I yearn to be influenced by you. My secret goal since the day we met is to be influenced by you.”

“Hmm.”

“Can I go back to sleep now?”

“You're not taking this problem very seriously, are you?”

“No,” he admitted into the pillow. “Probably because I don't see a problem here.”

“Spoken like a real CEO.”

“Hey, that's why I get the corner office and the big—”

“Oh, no, you don't.” She pounced, leaping astride his back and seizing his shoulders. “If you say one more word about big offices, big bucks, or corner windows, I swear I will—”

“Squeeze me a little tighter with your thighs?” he asked hopefully. “You could really exert a lot of influence if you did that.”

She dissolved into helpless giggles.

Jasper surged up off the bed, dislodging her and sending her tumbling back onto the pillows. He leaned over her, eyes gleaming in the shadows.

“I thought you wanted to go back to sleep.”

“For some reason,” he said as he lowered his head, “I'm wide awake now.”

A last flicker of unease went through her. She braced her hands on his shoulders to hold him off for a moment while she made one last attempt to get him to see reason.

“Jasper, we really should talk about how a marriage between us will affect the business side of things.”

“Screw the business side of things.” He kissed her throat. “You know what your problem is?”

She gasped when she felt his hand slide between her legs. “No. What is my problem?”

“You lack a certain sense of spontaneity.”

“Is that so?” She clenched her fingers in his hair. “Yeah, but don't worry about it. I've got enough for both of us.”

“Yes,” she whispered a moment later when he eased himself into her body. “You certainly do.”

She woke up again at three-thirty. This time she did not rouse Jasper for a discussion of their future relationship. She had the impression he was not interested in another conversation on the subject so she conducted the argument silently in her own head.

All that stuff about not being able to marry him because people would think you're doing it to secure Glow's future was garbage, wasn't it?

Yes.

An excuse. Not the reason you just woke up in a cold sweat again.

True.

What's the real issue here?

I'm scared.

Why? You said you didn't want another marriage of convenience. Neither does Jasper. Both of you know what a marriage based on mutual business interests looks like from the inside. Whatever else this would be, it wouldn't be the kind of relationship you had with Logan.

So, why does Jasper want to get married?

He told you, he likes a well-organized life. An affair seems messy and disorganized to him.

You can't marry a man just because he thinks marriage is more tidy than an affair.

Why not?

It's not a good reason for marriage, that's all.

How do you know? You've never tried it.

I just know.

What is a good reason for marriage?

Love.

Do you love him?

Yes. Oh, lord, yes, yes, yes.

Then, what's the problem here?

The problem is that I don't know if he loves me. Maybe he's got his passion for order mixed up with his passion for me. Maybe that's what he calls love.

Ask him.

Olivia turned on her side and propped herself on her elbow. She gripped Jasper's shoulder and shook him gently.

“Jasper?”

“Now what?” he growled, in the voice of a bear that has been awakened in the middle of hibernation.

“Are you awake?”

“No.”

“I have to ask you a question.”

“Can't it wait until morning?”

“No. Do you want to marry me just because you've got your obsessive need to practice good filing habits mixed up with a physical attraction?”

There was a long silence.

“Jasper?”

He opened one eye. “Are there going to be a lot more questions in this vein?”

“Just this one.”

“No.” He closed his eye.

“No, what?” she asked. “No, you haven't got your
filing impulse mixed up with your sexual impulse? Or, no, you don't want to answer the question?”

“No, I haven't got my desire to organize things mixed up with my desire to make love to you. Believe it or not, I can tell the difference between both basic instincts.”

“Oh, good.” She waited. He said nothing else. “Is that all?”

There was no response. She realized he had fallen back into the depths of sleep

Olivia was nervous. Nothing strange about that, Jasper thought the following morning as he parked the Jeep in a space on Second Avenue. After all, she'd already made one mistake with marriage. She was keenly aware of the risks involved. So was he, for that matter. Just one more thing they had in common.

She wouldn't panic on him just because she'd had a few qualms about accepting his proposal, he assured himself as he got out of the Jeep. At least, he didn't think she would panic.

But deep down he was afraid that he had rushed things. He wished he had the same instinct for timing in his personal affairs that he had in business. It
would make life so much more orderly and predictable.

At least she had not spent breakfast grilling him with more of the strange questions she had asked in the middle of the night. He hoped that meant that his answers had satisfied her.

But deep down he was afraid he had not told her whatever it was she wanted to hear.

Of course, she had not told him what he had hoped to hear, either, he thought. He had not realized until this morning that there had been something missing last night.

He tried to convince himself that he had achieved his goal. Olivia had agreed to marry him. Theirs, clearly, would not be a marriage of convenience. What more could he want?

The answer had eluded him, so he had done what he always did when his personal life got fuzzy. He focused on other things.

There was still one loose end remaining to be tied off in the Dixon Haggard affair.

He walked along the sidewalk toward the storefront office that had served as Lancaster campaign headquarters. No one had bothered to take down the cheerful red, white, and blue pennants that fluttered from the awning. When he reached the front door, he glanced through the window.

From the outside there was nothing to indicate that Eleanor Lancaster's run for governor had collapsed last night. People sat at their desks.
Lancaster for Governor
signs were still plastered across the windows.

He opened the door and went inside.

It was like walking into the viewing room of a funeral parlor.

The subdued atmosphere and hushed conversations told the real tale of disappointment and despair.

A young woman with long blond hair sat at the front desk sniffling into a tissue. When she looked up, Jasper could see that her eyes were wet with tears. He resisted the urge to say something callous like,
hey, it's only politics.
He had a feeling that she would not appreciate his lack of empathy.

“If you're from the media,” the receptionist whispered, “I'm afraid Ms. Lancaster is still not available for interviews.”

“I'm looking for Todd Chantry.”

“Oh.” She glanced over her shoulder. “He's in the office at the back. But he's rather busy …”

“Thanks.”

Jasper walked down an aisle formed by desks, toward the glass-walled office at the rear of the room. The people who sat at the desks did not look up from their somber conversations. Nobody appeared to be doing any work. They were all engaged in rehashing the bad news.

When he reached the closed door of the small office, Jasper saw that he had been wrong. One person was clearly working and working hard.

Todd had his shirtsleeves rolled up to the elbows. There was a five o'clock shadow on his face, even though it was only eight-thirty in the morning. He had a rumpled, harried look, as if he had been up most of the night.

Papers were spread across the desk in front of him.
There were two phones in the office. He was using both of them. One was cradled on his left shoulder. The other was pinned to his right ear. There was an ominous expression on his face as he spoke into the phone.

Jasper opened the door and went into the office.

“… I don't give a damn what your computer says. I'm telling you that there was over two hundred thousand dollars in that account yesterday….”

Jasper closed the door very quietly.

“I want to talk to your supervisor,” Todd snapped. “No, not the computer room supervisor. I'll get back to you later if I need you.” He hung up one of the phones and continued talking into the other. “Get me someone who knows what's going on there. Yes, I'll hold.”

Jasper waited.

Todd glanced at him. His frown deepened. “Something wrong?”

“Got a couple of questions I thought you could help me with,” Jasper said. He raised a brow to acknowledge the phone Todd still had plastered to one ear. “If you've got time, that is.”

Todd started to respond, but someone on the other end of the line said something that distracted him.

“What do you mean he's out of the building?” Todd paused. “All right, all right. Have him call me the minute he returns. In the meantime, see if you can find someone else who can help me. You've got my number. If I don't hear from you in the next ten minutes I'll call you back.”

He slammed down the phone and glared at Jasper. “This is not my thing, you know.”

“What isn't your thing?”

“Straightening out the business side of this mess. Hell, I'm a policy and theory man, not an accountant. But as you can see, everything is a little crazy today. And with Haggard in jail—”