Summer on the Cape (10 page)

And so they avoided all serious talk for the next half hour, until their plates were cleared and it was time for dessert. The waiter appeared with the dessert menu, but Adam waved it away, for he’d already planned on a choice that would require extra time to prepare.

“We’ve decided on the chocolate soufflé,” he told the waiter, “and we know it will take some time to prepare. We don’t mind.” The waiter smiled, nodded, and disappeared.

“There,” Adam said. “That will keep them busy for a while and now we can talk without being disturbed.”

“You mean we can at last get to something besides how dreadful I used to look?”

“You didn’t look dreadful. You looked delightful. And you look delightful now. But you have been obviously preoccupied and practically glowering at me all evening.” He sat back and rested his hands on the arms of the chair. His expression was broad, expansive, comfortable. “I think your patience has probably reached its limit.” He picked up his wineglass and lifted it toward her as though it were a salute.

“And so the time has come, Allie, while we wait for the kitchen to prepare our soufflé, for us to have our talk.”

Chapter Seven

“A
ll right, Adam.” Allie lifted her glass also, acknowledging his gesture. She settled back and sipped her wine. “Go ahead. I’m waiting.”

She was getting tired of all the mystery. It’s about time, she thought, that someone explained what’s going on.

Adam put his head to one side and smiled at her. His tone was mischievous.

“But first, I’m going to ask you to explain something to me.”

“Oh?”

“I had a most astonishing call the other day, from Zach Eliot, of all people. Very early in the morning. I could barely understand what the man was talking about.” Adam’s eyes narrowed slightly, concealing a twinkle as Allie reacted to his teasing. Her cheeks were reddening in embarrassment. And Adam was enjoying her discomfort. “What the hell were you up to, Allie? Were you really snooping around his house?” Adam clucked at her in mock disapproval. He was obviously having a good time. “Shame on you, Allie! And at the crack of dawn, no less.”

“I wasn’t ‘up to’ anything.” Allie’s response was instantly defensive. “And I certainly wasn’t snooping.” She took a deep breath, got a grip on herself, and went on a little more calmly, determined not to let Adam bully her, even if it really was good-natured bullying. “Listen, Adam. I don’t have to explain things to you. I’d taken a drive. I saw this nice old house. I was taking a look at it, and that’s all.” She took a sip of her wine, using the pause to steady herself. “I didn’t know it was his house.” She realized Adam was deflecting her from the explanation he owed her. “But that’s not the point, Adam. I’m not going to let you change the subject. I want to know what’s going on. When I go up to Cape Cod to paint seascapes, I don’t expect to be accused of spying and snooping and sneaking. I want to know what the big mystery is. Zach Eliot has something against you. He thinks you’re up to something, he’s plenty mad, and he thinks I’m mixed up in it. You owe me an explanation.”

She’d said all she needed to. From here on the floor was Adam’s and he’d better make his explanations good.

Adam’s eyes were sparkling. “Well done, my dear. Very energetic of you.” He signaled the waiter to refill their glasses. “And you shall have your explanation, including an explanation for Zach Eliot’s remarkable behavior toward you on that exciting morning.” He paused while the waiter poured the wine into their glasses. “But I must say, Allie, that really was a most remarkable phone call. Sanders was quite scandalized. He’s not accustomed to being roused by enraged callers at such an ungodly hour.” Adam chuckled. “I thought he was about to give me a month’s notice, and I can’t have that, you know. Good butlers are too hard to find.” Adam was obviously amused by the whole thing. He paused, pursed his lips momentarily in thought, and then he finally stopped teasing and got down to the business at hand. “All right, Allie. Here it is.

“I know it is not your custom to follow the financial news.” She nodded her head in agreement. “That’s perfectly all right, of course. That’s what you have me for. But I do make it my business to be informed about events in the business world. I know where the big money is and I watch it as it moves around from hand to hand, from company to company, from country to country. I make it my business to understand how it moves and to catch a piece of it for myself and my clients as it goes by.” Adam’s face was entirely serious now. He was talking about the subject that, next to art and the purchase and sale of art, was dearest to him.

“I don’t expect you to know the name, but it is possible that you have heard of the Matsuhara Group?” He raised his eyebrows questioningly. Allie shook her head. “I thought not. That’s all right. There’s no reason why you should have. The Matsuhara Group is a very significant, but very private, investment banking organization. They have their extremely quiet but active fingers in countless pies, the variety of which would no doubt astonish you. Everything from ladies’ underwear to cruise missiles.

“You may well wonder how all this is connected to me and to you.” He smiled benignly. “All will be revealed in due course, have no fear.” He put his head back and cast his eyes upward for a moment, considering how best to continue.

“The Matsuhara Group is currently engaged in developing a most interesting new project. It is still in its early stages, and I cannot emphasize strongly enough, Allie, that what I’m telling you now is absolutely confidential. It will involve enormous amounts of money and, if we handle it right, I am hoping it will also involve you. If it does, a small piece of that enormous amount of money will go to you and, of course, to me. In addition, it will be a wonderful feather in your career cap. It is quite a grand project, and I know it will appeal also to your patriotic spirit. It is pure Americana.”

“Americana? The Matsuhara Group?” A brief laugh burst from Allie’s lips.

“Of course, my dear. What could be more American? Isn’t our country the great melting pot?” He held up a restraining finger. “Don’t interrupt me.

“Now, picture this.” Adam gestured, with his still upraised hand, as though to paint the scene he would have her imagine. His voice became evocative. “The lonely, barren stretches of an unexplored new continent. A little band of pilgrims, looking for freedom and opportunity, arrives upon a new land. They have spent fearful weeks upon a tiny vessel, profoundly uncertain of what their future might be. And what, indeed, does their future hold? Why, as history has taught us, these brave, hardy travelers are no less than the early settlers of a now mighty and proud land!

“Now, consider this. Their journey has been dangerous, full of uncertainties. Will they survive? Will they find a safe place to build their settlement? Will their principles and their faith sustain them in the hard times ahead? We, who have come after them, are honored to know the answers, to know that their enterprise was blessed with magnificent success.

“But they did not know. When their little vessel first arrived at the tip of what we now call Cape Cod, there were no answers. They faced an empty land, windswept, uninhabited.” He saw her correction coming and swept it aside, as though it were of no consequence. “All right, almost uninhabited. And that, my dear Allie, is the very spirit of adventure. To head out into the unknown, to cast one’s lot into that great sea of unanswered questions.” Adam paused for effect. Allie nodded her head at him to signify that she got the picture. What in the world, she wondered, was Adam getting at with this dramatic build-up? What did the Pilgrim settlers have to do with her?

“Okay,” Adam continued. “Okay. So what more fitting monument to those noble spirits could there be than for their thankful descendants and beneficiaries to re-enact that exciting event, that event without parallel in the history of mankind? Countless Americans, the young and the old alike, could relive those exciting times. The
Mayflower
Adventure!

“Think of it, Allie. First sightings, through the mists. Land ho! First encounters alongside John Alden, with Native Americans. Are they friendly? Are they hostile? Explorations, with Miles Standish and the others, for water, for land where they could plant and cultivate crops, for timber to build cabins. Authentic homes, authentic foods, cornbread baking on the hearth.”

“Oh, my God! A theme park!” Allie’s mouth fell open. “A
Mayflower
theme park!”

“You’ve got it!” Adam was delighted by her quick grasp of the whole thing. “Think of the possibilities. It ties right in with the whole area. There’ll be whale watching rides. ‘Hunt for Fresh Water’ rides. ‘Dive for Sunken Treasure’ rides. Who knows?” He paused and reflected. “There are plenty of sunken ships around there anyway. Someone might actually find something.” He smiled at the possibilities, as though that last idea had just suggested something to him. “That would be great publicity.”

“So that’s what this is all about. You’ve got clients who are trying to develop a big
Mayflower
theme park on Cape Cod. That’s great. It’s a terrific idea. But how do I fit into all this?” The project was taking shape in Allie’s mind, full of interesting possibilities, but she didn’t see a place in it for her.

“I’ll get to that. But first, let me expand the idea a little bit. There are all sorts of spinoffs. Restaurants. A library to house
Mayflower
archives. A Pilgrims’ museum.” Adam expressed his enthusiasm with a quiet intensity. “It’s a perfect setting. Plenty of open space and virtually no conflicting industry in the area. The place is a resort community already. The Cape’s motels and cottages and restaurants and gift shops would be delighted with the increased business. With a little investment—all right, a lot of investment—it could be made into a year-round attraction. Existing highways would need to be widened, of course. The local contractors would love it. There’d be increased local employment, and that means increased local population and that means an increased tax base, which all leads to expanded schools, medical facilities, utilities, all the services a community needs.”

Adam paused for a moment before continuing.

“Of course, there are obstacles. There always are. Certain key parcels of land still need to be acquired. And there are plenty of legal hurdles to overcome. Development permits have to be secured. Environmental impact studies. Filings with the Securities and Exchange Commission. And the financing isn’t all in place yet.”

“Is there any local opposition? Or is the community in favor of the plan?”

“That’s no problem.” Adam’s response was brusque, as though brushing away a minor irritation. “There’s always some local opposition. That happens with all these projects. There are always some people in the area who just don’t feel comfortable with progress. Can’t be helped. It just takes some time and some convincing to bring them around.”

By now Allie was leaning forward, her elbows propped up on the table. Adam’s enthusiasm for the project was contagious, and she had been concentrating intently on his words.

“It sounds fascinating, Adam. I can see it. The attendants in colonial costume. Little shops selling replicas of the ship, little John Alden and Priscilla dolls, booklets telling the story of their courtship. An infinite variety of souvenirs. Early colonial cooking utensils. Colonial foods. And of course, a really huge anniversary observance, every year at Thanksgiving. Ties right in with the holiday. Kids off from school, parents off from work. What could be better? Turkey day at Mayflower Park!” Allie’s imagination was fired by the possibilities, her lively mind already engaged in coming up with new ideas. “What name have they picked?”

“Just a working title, so far. ‘Pilgrims’ Landing.’”

“I really like it, Adam.” She sat back now, her arms extended out in front of her on the table. She took a deep breath. “And now, tell me how I am involved in all this.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Adam paused, indicating with a gesture that they should be quiet for a moment.

The waiter had arrived with their soufflés. There was a brief flurry of presentation and the arrangement of their flatware and the removal of their wineglasses and the pouring of their coffee, while Allie and Adam chatted innocently about the weather. Finally, with a flourish, the waiter was gone and Allie and Adam returned to their real conversation.

“You were about to tell me how I fit into this scheme.” Allie lifted a bit of feather-light, chocolate-sweetened soufflé to her lips. Unfortunately, its delicacy was entirely lost on her as she concentrated on Adam’s response.

“Well, I had been involved in certain dealings with the Matsuhara people, and I was familiar with the details of the project. Never mind how. Let’s just say that I knew what they were trying to do. And I was casting about for some artistic tie-in that would benefit you.”

Allie looked at him a bit archly, but she didn’t protest. She understood that ultimately, Adam’s bottom line was what benefited Adam.

“When I saw those watercolors,” he was saying, ignoring her look, “I saw the connection right away. The Matsuhara people mean to establish an upscale tone for this project. They’re going to need all sorts of promotional material, publicizing Cape Cod and its history, its famous artists’ community. Your work will fit right in. It’s beautiful work, like everything you do, Allie, and I believe I can sell them on using practically everything you can produce. Believe me, Allie, we’ve got a winner here.”

Allie was intrigued. As usual, her reliance on Adam had not been misplaced. No matter how much she bucked him, she knew that in the long run, it had never done her any harm to be guided by him. She saw now that his sending her to Cape Cod had been a kind of trial balloon, and it looked as though her work there might pay off, after all. Her portrait work had already earned her some nice critical acclaim and a number of good commissions. Now, to be associated with a major project like this
Mayflower
thing, well, that could be a really big step forward.