The Golden Chance (26 page)

“Just the little Crissie told me.”

“You can probably discard most of that,” Darren said. “I know she was your friend, but Crissie Masters couldn't be trusted an inch.”

“I could trust her.”

Darren shrugged that aside. “Back to Hilary. Eleanor introduced her to Nick about five years ago. If it wasn't a case of love at first sight, it was definitely a case of satisfaction at first sight. They both seemed to want what the other was offering. Nick was ready to marry, and Hilary was a stunning woman who looked as though she would be a perfect wife for him.”

“I know.” Phila wrinkled her nose. “Good family background, good looks and lots of old money. The perfect combination. Too bad she didn't love him.”

“He thought she did. Or at least he thought the potential for love was there. I don't believe he would have married her otherwise. He had been raised in a loving marriage, and I think he fully expected the same sort of relationship for himself when he married. But you're wrong about one thing. Hilary didn't have a lot of old money.”

“No?”

Darren shook his head. “She had the family background, all right, and the looks, but that was about all that was left. She came from an old family that had been living on its expectations for the past couple of generations. Unfortunately, they hadn't produced anyone strong enough to keep the income flowing into the family coffers during the last forty years. They made the classic mistake of dipping into capital. They were on the verge of bankruptcy when Hilary married Nick.”

Phila stumbled over a small piece of driftwood. “Did Nick know that?”

“Sure. He's not exactly stupid. At least not when it comes to money.”

“Do you think he worried he was being married for his money?”

“Nick's a natural risk-taker. I think he just decided to take the risk in this case. After all, everything else looked good and Hilary certainly appeared to be in love with him.”

“And your mother was pushing for the match?”

“Yes. She felt that after Nora died she had a duty to find a proper wife for Nick. She liked Hilary, and her family had known Hilary's family for generations.”

Phila frowned. “Did she know Hilary's family was just about broke?”

“She probably did. But she understood that kind of situation. She didn't see it as a negative. Why do you think she married my father?”

“
What
?”

Darren smiled again, briefly. “I'm afraid so. A marriage of convenience, as they used to say. Her family was Southern aristocracy. Bloodlines all the way back to the Colonial era.”

“But they were out of money?”

Darren nodded. “They had enough to put up a good front, but basically they were in deep trouble when Burke Castleton went east looking for a proper lady to marry.”

“Poor Eleanor!”

“She knew what she was doing. It was expected of her. She may not have had money, but she had a strong sense of family honor and obligation. Who knows? Maybe in the beginning she actually cared for my father. God knows he had a way with women.”

“She tolerated nearly forty years of marriage to a man she probably considered beneath her?”

“She did her best to elevate him and the rest of us. She's spent years polishing the image. I think she sees it as her life's work.”

“In other words, she fulfilled her part of the bargain. She brought a little class to the Castletons and the Lightfoots.” Phila grimaced. “And so it goes. Life among the rich and famous.”

“Not that rich and certainly not that famous,” Darren said. “Don't act so damn condescending.”

“You don't have to lecture me. I'm already feeling bad enough for the way I talked to your mother this morning.”

Darren's expression hardened. “What did you say to her?”

“She was accusing Crissie of having caused a lot of pain and anguish. I pointed out that the blame belonged on Burke. He was the one who played around all those years ago. I also pointed out that if he'd played around once, he'd undoubtedly done so many times.”

“You said that to my mother?” Darren's voice was grim.

“I'm afraid so.”

“You are a real little bitch, aren't you?”

A real little bitch
.

Just like Crissie
.

The words reverberated through Phila's mind as she fixed herself a salad that evening. They made her feel worn-out and depressed.

Phila took her plate over to the kitchen table and sat down. She'd lost her appetite again, she realized. She really didn't want to eat the salad. She didn't want to eat anything.

There was another storm moving inland. Rain was already striking the windows in big fat drops that sounded like small-weapons fire. She was becoming an expert on that particular sound.

The only thing she was accomplishing here on the coast was causing more trouble, Phila told herself, trying to face the situation clearly.

Crissie was dead. There was nothing to be done about it. There were no questions to ask. She had known that from the beginning. It was time to turn the shares back to their rightful owner and be done with it.

Strange how things had become so painfully clear this afternoon after that conversation with Eleanor. There was no point trying to punish the Castletons and Lightfoots. They had done a fine job of punishing themselves over the years.

On top of everything else, she was a fool to stick around and play dangerous games with Nick Lightfoot. There was no sense kidding herself. Everyone was right. Nick never did anything without a reason. He was using her. She knew it; they all knew it. Phila didn't blame him particularly. After all, she had been using him. But she was suddenly very tired of dealing with the situation.

She knew she had allowed Nick to persuade her to come to Port Claxton because she had not known what else to do with herself. She had needed a focus for her burned-out emotions. She had needed something to revitalize herself. Creating trouble with the C&L shares had seemed a way to do that for a while. She could pretend she was somehow avenging Crissie. But the more Phila got mired in the quicksand of the emotional politics between the families, the less vengeful she felt.

It was time to call it quits and get out. Phila made her decision as she sat watching the storm come in. She would give the shares back to Darren in the morning, and then she would pack and head for Seattle.

Seattle seemed like a good place to start job hunting, and she had a life to put back together. It was time to get busy on that task.

Nick's Porsche pulled into the cottage drive just as Phila started on her salad. The sound of the powerful engine took her by surprise. She had not expected him back tonight. Slowly she got to her feet as Nick came through the front door. She went to meet him.

“I didn't think you'd get here until tomorrow,” Phila said quietly as he set down his luggage.

He looked at her. “I finished my business and decided to come back early.” He paused, eying her quizzically. “I think there's something wrong with this scene.”

“Is there?”

“Shouldn't you be rushing into my arms? Climbing all over me? Ripping off my clothes?”

“Should I?”

“Oh, Christ. What happened?” He shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it across the nearest chair.

“Not much. I've decided to leave tomorrow, Nick.”

He didn't move, but his eyes turned bleak and hard. “Is that right? What are you going to do with the shares?”

Phila turned back toward the kitchen with a humorless smile. “The first and foremost question, of course. What will I do with the shares. Well, you can all stop wondering. I'm going to give them back to Darren. They belong to him.”

“For the past few days you've been claiming those shares were Crissie's inheritance.” Nick followed her into the kitchen.

“Crissie's dead.”

“That's not news. She's been dead for nearly three months.”

“I guess I'm finally accepting that fact.” Phila sat down at the table again and picked up her fork. “It was hard, you know. I think I was afraid to let go of her. There were times when she was all I had and it was hard to envision a world without her in it.”

Nick opened a cupboard and found his bottle of scotch. “You want to tell me what happened while I was gone?”

“Not much, really. I had a talk with Eleanor today, and I felt like a piece of garbage afterward. It jolted me. It also put things into perspective.”

“What did you say to her? Or was it something she said to you?” Nick watched her coolly as he poured his scotch.

“I said some nasty things to her. Afterward I felt as though I'd kicked a dog when it was down. She's obviously worked for years on shoring up an image of family unity. It was cruel of me to casually rip it apart.”

“What exactly did you say?”

“I reminded her it was her husband who had caused the problem of Crissie.”

“A logical deduction.”

“But one Eleanor has chosen not to make. She doesn't want to admit that someone in the family, her own husband to be precise, had created the problem. She wanted to blame it all on an outsideer. The family must remain inviolate at all costs.”

“But you pointed out the truth?”

“A totally useless exercise in reality therapy. She won't ever acknowledge it, and why should she? She's built her life around the families. The image of the Castletons and Lightfoots is more important to her than anything else. What right do I have to mess with her little world?”

“I thought you wanted to avenge Crissie Masters. Represent her interests in the families. What about all that business about Castletons and Lightfoots bearing a moral responsibility for what happened?”

“I realized today that I'm tired of playing Lady Avenger. Crissie's dead and no one's responsible, not even Crissie. She was the victim of cosmic bad luck. The universe is full of it.”

“I don't know if I can handle a Philadelphia Fox turned existentialist. I liked you better when you were paranoid about conspiracies.”

She looked at him. “I'm glad you're still finding something amusing in all this. You really do enjoy playing your little games, don't you, Nick? You should. You're very good at them.”

He scowled at her, swirling the scotch in his glass. “You really are in a hell of a mood, aren't you?”

“You want to talk conspiracies? All right, I'll talk conspiracies. Let's start with you telling me how your trip to Santa Barbara went?”

He winced around a swallow of scotch. “You were the one who called my office down there? Martha said the lady hadn't left her name. I thought it might have been Hilary.”

“Maybe we both called,” Phila suggested, annoyed.

“No. Martha said only one woman called asking for me by name. Had to be you or Hilary.”

“Why did you check in with your Santa Barbara office in the first place? Worried someone might suspect you had lied about your little business jaunt?”

“It was one of the risks involved. Just out of curiosity, what made you suspicious?”

“I don't trust Castletons or Lightfoots any more than they trust me,” she said.

“Ah, that's my old Philadelphia.”

“I'm glad you find it all so damned funny.”

“I went to Seattle, not Santa Barbara.”

“Did you?”

“Do you care?” he retorted.

“Not particularly. Not any more. It's your business.”

“Damn right.” Nick set his glass down on the tiled countertop. “And I intend to get it back in August.”

Phila nodded slowly, toying with the salad greens. “Everyone knows you're up to something. People keep warning me you're using me.”

Nick leaned back against the counter, his eyes gleaming behind the lenses of his glasses. “What do you think?”

“That they're right, of course. You're using me.”

“Any more than you're using me, Phila? You seemed to be having a great time in bed.”

“Oh, I was. But the party's over. I'm tired and it's time to go home.”

“Where's home? Holloway?”

She shook her head quickly. “No. Not there. Someplace new. Seattle, maybe.”

He nodded. “I've got a place you can stay in while you hunt for an apartment and a job. A condo near the Market. You'd love it.”

She was floored. “Why would you want to do me any favors? I've told you I'm going to give the shares back to Darren. You don't have to pay me off for returning them.”

“I'm not trying to pay you off for them. I'm offering you a bribe so you'll hang on to them until the August meeting.”

“Why should I do that?”

“I need them,” Nick said softly. “More importantly, I need you.”

She experienced a small rush of pleasure that she tried to suppress immediately. “How?”

“I want the others to know you're going to back me at the annual meeting. I want them to think you believe in me.”

“I see.” She clamped a lid on the surge of disappointment, just as she had damped down the initial hope. “But I think I'm losing this somewhere. Why do you want the families to think I'm going to back you?”

“Because if you continue to do so, there's a fair-to-even chance that the owner of one of the other large share blocks will throw his or her lot in with us.”

“And if one of the others does decide to back you?”

Nick smiled slowly. “Then I get my old job back.”

“You'll get control of Castleton & Lightfoot again?”

“Yeah. That's the scenario.” He poured himself another glass of scotch.

Phila felt chilled. The rain was falling in heavy sheets against the old windows. “What makes you think that my backing you with Crissie's shares will encourage any of the others to do so?”

“You, my sweet, are shaping up as the Good Witch. You're annoying the hell out of the families, but some of the members are starting to think you may have a few good points.”

“Such as?”

“Such as the primitive, rather naive qualities of honesty and integrity.”

“Even if they do suspect me of having left-wing, antiestablishment tendencies?”

“Yeah. You're putting doubts in their minds about me, Phila. This wasn't quite the way I planned it, but I think things are going to work out. They're all starting to wonder if I really was the bad guy three years ago. I'm hoping that if you spread enough doubt around, it'll act like the manure you lectured us about at Eleanor's dinner. It'll do some good.”

“You mean it will benefit you.”

“Right.”

“Who's the Wicked Witch in this story?”

“One guess.”

“Hilary?”

“Yeah.”

Phila shook her head. “I don't think I like it. Any of it. I'm tired of being used.”

“You don't have much choice,” Nick said. The steel core was showing again. “You haven't had any choice since the day you inherited the shares.”

“I told you, I'm out of the vengeance business. If you're trying to get back at Hilary because she let everyone think you walked out on her and the baby three years ago, then you can do it on your own. You're a big boy. I want to get on with my own life.” Phila looked down at the salad. She was never going to be able to eat it. She stood up and carried her dishes over to the sink.

Nick put out his hand and caught hold of her wrist. His eyes were the color of the rain outside. “I think we need to discuss this a little further.”

“No. I've made up my mind. I'm leaving tomorrow.”

“I want you to support me or at least pretend to support me until the August meeting.”

“Why should I? What's in it for me?” Phila asked, suddenly feeling truly angry.

Nick stared at her for a long, considering moment. “What do you want out of it?”

She exhaled heavily. “Nothing. I can't think of anything I want from a Lightfoot, so I guess that means no deal.”

“Phila, I need your help.”

“I doubt it.”

“Believe me, everything hinges on you. Things are at a very delicate stage. If you walk out on me now it could tip the balance of power back in Hilary's direction.”

“I'm not interested in helping you get even with your ex-wife, damn it!”

“Jesus. You think I'm going through all of this just to get even?”

“Why else would you be doing it?”

“I'm doing it to save Castleton & Lightfoot, you little idiot. Which means I'm doing it for the families, whether they like it or not. My own personal problems with Hilary are the least of it.”

Phila wriggled her captive wrist. “Let go of me.”

Nick hesitated and then released her. He folded his arms across his chest. “Please help me, Phila.”

She went over to the window. “What did you mean about trying to save Castleton & Lightfoot?”

“Before I tell you the story, you've got to give me your word you won't say anything to any of the others.”

“If something is threatening the company, why shouldn't they be told?”

“Because at this stage Hilary could still cover her tracks and get away with what she has planned.”

Phila hesitated, knowing he was shamelessly pushing her buttons and she was responding. She could already feel herself weakening. “All right, tell me about it.”