The Vision (10 page)

Then she froze.

He was there.

Thor Thompson. Casually leaning against the wall. He smiled as they saw him,

nonchalantly glancing up at the sign that announced Audrey’s business.

She could have held her temper, she told herself afterward. Should have held her temper.

He hadn’t said a word.

He didn’t need to. She saw the way he looked at the sign, then looked at her.

She walked up to him furiously. “You followed me,” she accused him.

He seemed a lot taller. She wasn’t short, especially in heels, but he was able to look down

at her.

“We ordered your drinks for you. We didn’t know where you were. Nothing quite as bad

as warm beer.”

“You followed me,” she repeated. “You son of a bitch. You had no right.”

He arched a brow. “Maybe I followed Bethany.”

“I think Bethany ought to be getting out of here right now,” Bethany said nervously. “If

you’ll both excuse me—”

They turned to her simultaneously. “No.”

“Oh,” Bethany said, acutely uncomfortable.

“For your information, Mr. Thompson, we were just stopping in to say hello to an old

friend from school,” Genevieve advised him. “Not that it’s any of your concern.”

He looked up at the sign again, then cast her a disdainful look. “Everything you do right now concerns me. I need you sharp and on the ball.”

“You need me sharp and on the ball? Have you forgotten something? I don’t work for

you. I work for Marshall.”

“You didn’t know?” he asked.

“Know what?” she demanded.

“Your group got hired because I recommended you,” he said quietly. “Marshall and I

make decisions together, sure. That’s how good work is done. But I get the final say. On

everything.”

Genevieve narrowed her eyes as she stared at him. “Is that a threat?”

“I never threaten people. I take action.”

“Did you have any difficulties with me today?” she demanded.

“Not at all.”

“So why did you follow me?” she demanded again. “Never mind. But don’t do it again.

I’ll quit before I’ll stand for being treated like a prisoner.”

Not a muscle twitched in his face. She was suddenly afraid the man wanted her to quit.

“Don’t be melodramatic. It’s immaterial to me whether you stay on or not, but if you

do…then it’s important that you live in the real world.”

“You son of a—”

“Genevieve, whoa. Come on, you two. The others will be missing us by now,” Bethany

said lightly. “This was a great day. Can’t we just be happy with that?”

“For the moment,” Thor said. His eyes hadn’t left Genevieve’s.

“Let’s go,” Bethany urged, slipping her arm through Genevieve’s.

“Right. Fine,” Genevieve said tightly.

She managed to walk a full five feet before spinning around to point a finger at him.

“Stop it. Just stop it.”

“Stop what?” he demanded.

“Judging me, worrying about me, following me. Thinking that I’m crazy and dangerous

and shouldn’t be on this project.”

His hands went to his hips, he tilted his head, and his jaw seemed to lock. “At the

moment I’m walking behind you and that’s it. If that disturbs you so much, maybe you

shouldn’t be on this project.”

“I’m better than you are. I proved it today.”

He arched a brow. “I actually found the gold,” he said quietly.

She gasped. “Of all the insufferable assholes! I led you to it. I knew where we should be

digging. I’m the one who made the find.”

“Once again, I repeat, I picked it up.”

“You’re pathetic. A man of your reputation stooping to such a desperate attempt at

glory.”

“I picked it up. That’s a simple fact.”

“Excuse me, but you two are both missing something. We’re working as a team here.

Does it matter who actually picked up the gold?” Bethany demanded

It mattered. Oh, yes, it mattered, Genevieve thought.

“We really need to join the others,” Bethany continued. “We might have taken the first

step today toward a historic discovery. Let’s go celebrate with a drink. You two can fight

later, if you have to.”

“You’re right. I can fight with this asshole later,” Genevieve snapped.

To Thor’s credit, he kept his mouth shut, making Genevieve wish she’d had the control to

do so, as well.

This time Bethany stepped between them, joining arms with both of them and

determinedly making her way down the street.

Genevieve strode into the bar quickly. The singer was on break; the sound system was

piping out something with a beat, and couples were filling the floor. Without hesitating,

she headed straight for Victor, dragging him out on the floor.

“Where were you guys?” he asked.

“Just down the street,” she said, swirling beneath his arm. One good thing about Victor:

they’d known each other forever and danced well together. She didn’t feel badly about

using him tonight; he dragged her out on the floor whenever he wanted to make sure

some hot female knew he was capable of moving to the music. Right now, spinning about

in a high-speed hustle was definitely a good way to release some of the energy she was

feeling. And the anger.

“What the hell is the matter with you tonight?” Victor asked quizzically. “I’m the one

who should be in a huff. You’re my partner, but you wait until you go off with the stud to

come up with the goods.”

She turned under his arm and faced him again. “I’d rather dive with you, believe me,” she

assured him.

“Why didn’t we come up with something before? Oh, right. Because you were busy

seeing bodies in the water.”

“Can it, Victor.”

He grinned. “Boo!”

“Victor…”

“Come on, Gen. Ease up.”

Ease up? Yes, she needed to. She didn’t want to quit. He might be in charge, but this was

her home. She wanted—deserved—to be a part of this.

And she was the one who had found the relic.

“Gen?” Victor said, breaking into her thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Everybody looks ready to move on.”

“Let’s go then.”

Unfortunately, they had to pass under Audrey’s sign to reach their next destination.

Genevieve made a point of ignoring it and walking ahead. She linked arms with Marshall,

keeping up with him, ahead of Thor Thompson. She tried to talk with Marshall as

casually as she always did, but she could tell she was talking too much. She tried to slow

herself down.

She’d never touched a drop of her beer in the first bar. When they entered the second, she

hailed the bartender and made a point of buying the first round and delivering the drafts

to each member of their party—even Thor.

She didn’t want to remain at the table, but Victor shook his head when she tried to get

him out on the floor. When she tried again, he pleaded exhaustion.

“I’ll hit the dance floor with you,” Thor said, standing.

“Oh, that’s all right.”

“No, it’s cool.”

“I’m not trying to make anyone dance,” she said.

“The hell you’re not,” Victor piped in.

Flushing, she found herself spinning out on the floor. The band was playing a rumba. She

had no idea what to do, but apparently Thor Thompson had—somewhere, sometime—

learned how to dance. He knew what he was doing, leading her, not pushing her around.

Under other circumstances he would have been an exceptional partner, even the perfect

height for her.

“You don’t have to do this,” she murmured.

“It’s good music. A nice place.”

“This is a great place to live.”

“I believe you.”

“Strange. You don’t believe much.”

“You don’t tell the truth all that often.”

“Maybe we all see different things as truth.”

“Then you’re not even telling me what you see as the truth,” he informed her.

“You don’t want the truth,” she said quickly, looking downward. Then she stared up at

him again, “And you’re not great at telling the truth yourself.”

He drew back slightly, looking at her, lips twitching. “Oh?”

“I made the find. You lost, but you don’t want to give up your boat, so you’re believing

what you want to believe.”

He laughed. “I made the find, and you don’t want to have sex, so you’re believing what

you want to believe.”

She was startled to find herself blushing to her roots. “That’s not the point.”

“Maybe it is to me.” He laughed. “All right. On this matter, let’s call it a draw.”

She arched a brow. “Because I won?”

“Because I won.”

She shook her head. “Look—”

“We’ll call it a draw,” he said firmly.

She didn’t know why she felt so comfortable about that. She certainly didn’t want to take

the man’s boat.

And she didn’t want sex—did she? Not with him!

Why not? a voice at the back of her head teased.

Because he was an idiot. Because of the patronizing way he treated her.

Still…sex, just sex…he was great to look at, would be exciting to touch….

“A draw,” she managed to say. “Great. With you trying to get me to quit.”

“Genevieve, I’m worried. I think you’re exceptional, but…you’re just not on your game.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m a big girl. I’ve been on my own in the world for a long

time.”

“Oh?”

She turned beneath his arm. “My folks were killed in a car crash when I was nineteen.

I’m an only child,” she explained.

“I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“Bad things, hurtful things, are never long enough ago.”

“But we learn to live with them.”

She realized suddenly that the music had ended and they had stopped moving, but she

was still leaning against him.

She stepped back. “Truce. But please, don’t follow me, and don’t worry about me. Not

unless I do something terrible, and I won’t. I swear, I’ll be courteous, hardworking and

entirely professional.”

“When we’re working?” he said.

She didn’t quite understand. “Of course while we’re working,” she said, nodding.

They headed back to the table. She took a seat between Alex and Victor. Bethany was

across from her, beaming.

“You two looked great out there.”

“Hey!” Victor protested. “She looks great with me, too.”

“But they were getting along so nicely,” Bethany said.

“They don’t get along?” Alex asked.

Genevieve took a long swig of her beer. “We get along just fine,” she said, staring hard at

Bethany.

“Of course,” Bethany said.

“Of course,” Jack echoed, lifting his beer. “To all of us. One big happy family,” he said,

and grinned.

A toast went around the table, and Genevieve finally let go and felt comfortable.

Eventually she danced with Jack, then Marshall. Lizzie and Zach got out on the floor,

too.

Finally Marshall broke it up. “Okay, time to go home. Tomorrow is a workday.”

The streets were a little quieter as they walked back to the resort. By then Genevieve had

ditched her shoes. When they reached the cool sand leading to the cottages, it felt good

beneath her feet.

The night was beautiful. The dead heat of the sun was gone, and there was no hint of rain.

A soft breeze blew in from the water.

“Good night. Tomorrow at eight sharp, guys,” Marshall called.

“Eight?” Victor protested. “Oh, God, not another history lesson.”

“No, but we’re seeing a few computer printouts of how the ship might have broken

apart,” Thor informed them.

Alex groaned. “Don’t they know we’ve all been on a zillion wreck dives?” he asked.

“Hey,” Marshall said. “It will be useful. You’ll see.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Victor said, giving a wave and heading off. They all began to do the same.

Genevieve hurried toward her own cottage.

She was suddenly anxious to get inside.

Before she was left out on the sand all alone.

Once inside, however, she found she wasn’t any happier. She was afraid to go to sleep.

Since it was her cottage and she was alone, she could do whatever she wanted to, so she

turned on all the lights and the television, and forced herself to brush her teeth, wash her face and get ready for bed.

It occurred to her that anyone noticing her place would realize she kept it brilliantly lit all night, but she was going to operate on the premise that it simply wasn’t anyone else’s

business. She thought about calling Bethany and suggesting they share a place for the

night, but she was loathe to do that if she wasn’t in an actual panic. And she wasn’t—not

yet, anyway.

She found a good movie on the SciFi channel. She didn’t believe in aliens, so the

creatures taking over the earth didn’t scare her. She kept the remote in hand though, just

in case she dozed off and awoke to something about ghosts.

She prayed she would be able to get a decent night’s sleep. She desperately needed it if

she was going to be the ultimate professional on this dive.

“That would be cruel,” Alex said, his hands cradling a bottle of beer. He, Jack and Victor

had decided on one last drink, just hanging by the tiki bar. It wasn’t late, not even eleven, and none of them had consumed more than two beers during their supposedly wild night

of barhopping.

The night was really nice. A cool breeze, no mosquitoes. It felt good to chill out at the

tiki bar. No one else was around, just the three of them.

Jack was staring at Victor as if he’d entirely lost his senses. “You want to what?” he

demanded.

“Look,” Victor said, leaning forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Gen thinks she

saw something, so we set something up to scare her, she sees that it’s not real, we all get