Flash (5 page)

He frowned as he absently shoved the trailing tail of his plaid shirt back into the waistband of his faded jeans. “I'm telling you that if you want special effects that will really wow the guests at the Camelot Blue event, you'll go for a romantic touch with the fake fog.”

“The guest list is riddled with teckies, bean counters, and high-level corporate execs. I doubt if any of them would recognize a romantic touch if it bit them on the throat.”

“Just because you're obsessed with business doesn't mean everyone else is.”

Olivia hesitated. The Camelot Blue event was an important contract for Light Fantastic. Alicia and Brian Duffield, cofounders of the company, belonged to Seattle's new class of young, smart, affluent techno-wizards. They had hired Olivia's event firm to produce the software launch event because she had convinced them that Light Fantastic could provide the high-tech flash they wanted to promote their products.

The dazzle-and-glitter part was easy, Olivia thought. Thanks to her family connections, she had access to the state-of-the-art industrial lighting equipment and fixtures produced by Glow, Inc. Her resources had grown even more bountiful recently with the completion of the company's new research and development lab. She raided it at will whenever she was in search of new special effects.

She could handle flash, all right, she thought. But the archetypal romantic stuff worried her. Bolivar had a point. She was not very good at that kind of thing.

“I still can't figure out why they insisted on naming the company Camelot Blue,” she grumbled. “It doesn't provide what you'd call a high-tech image.”

“It's a teckie thing,” Bolivar explained. “Comes from playing all those fantasy games.”

Olivia nodded reluctantly. She was well aware that Camelot Blue's first product had been a software game, a futuristic version of the Arthurian legend. It had sold like gelato in August. The company had been growing in quantum leaps ever since that first trip to market. Now it was set for another big push with a new line of products.

“Believe me, Olivia, you want to go with the
romance of the Arthurian legend on this.” Bolivar's expression brightened as he looked past her. “Ask Aunt Zara. She'll tell you I'm right.”

Olivia glanced over her shoulder and saw her aunt walking toward them across the scarred wooden floors of the old factory loft. Olivia hid an affectionate smile.

A former soap opera actress, Zara still knew how to make an entrance. Today she was a vision in a silver-studded denim jumpsuit and a pair of strappy, high-heeled sandals. She had put on some weight since her retirement from the long-running daily drama
Crystal Cove
, but she managed to look voluptuous, not plump.

Zara wore big shoulders and big hair with an aplomb that awed Olivia.

Her years in Hollywood had endowed her with a fine eye for flashy design, which had proven invaluable to Light Fantastic.

Olivia saw that Zara carried two plastic-covered latte cups decorated with the logo of Café Mantra. The tiny, hole-in-the-wall coffee shop and espresso bar occupied premises on the first floor of the building.

“You're a life saver, Aunt Zara.” Olivia seized one of the latte cups and ripped off the lid. “I hope you made mine a triple?”

“Yes, dear, just as you requested.” Zara handed the second cup to Bolivar. “Although I really do think you're drinking a little too much caffeine these days.”

“Are you kidding? It's the only thing that's keeping me going. You try sorting through Uncle Rollie's business affairs and keep track of things at Glow while running this operation.”

Zara frowned in concern. “You've been pushing yourself much too hard since Rollie died.”

“Not like there's any option.” Olivia took a healthy swallow of the triple-shot espresso-revved latte. “Until my so-called silent partner decides to return from his summer vacation, I'm stuck. Everything is in limbo until he shows up.”

“Be careful what you wish for.” Bolivar gave her a troubled look. “This Sloan guy owns fifty-one percent of Glow now. Who knows what he'll want to do with it?”

Zara nodded in somber agreement. “Rose says that everyone at the firm is speculating Sloan will want to sell or merge Glow. That would be a disaster.”

Olivia had been dealing with her family's fears about the future of Glow since an hour after the news of Rollie's death had reached Seattle. Everyone's first reaction to the prospect of having a stranger at the helm of the family firm had been instant panic. Not without reason, she reminded herself. One way or another, most of the Chantry clan had a strong, personal interest in Glow.

She took another sip of the latte and prepared to give Zara and Bolivar the same reassuring patter she had given all the other Chantrys who had besieged her lately.

“Sloan's a venture capitalist,” she said mildly. “He arranges startup and expansion capital. He doesn't actually run the companies in which he has a stake. All he'll care about is getting his money out of Glow. Don't worry, I'll arrange a way to pay him off and get rid of him.”

Zara sighed. “I certainly hope you're right.”

“Trust me on this,” Olivia said. “I may not know much about legendary passion and romance, but I do know business.”

“Speaking of romance and legend,” Bolivar said deliberately. “What are we going to do about the Camelot Blue fog?”

Zara looked at Olivia. “Bolivar's absolutely right, dear. You must go with the romance and passion angle here. This is King Arthur. The Round Table. Knights in shining armor. It cries out for a dreamy, atmospheric feeling.”

Olivia eyed Merlin's Cave. “You're sure?”

“Positive,” Zara said.

“Okay, okay,” Olivia said. “When it comes to that kind of thing, you know I rely on your opinion, Aunt Zara. Let's punch up the romantic angle for the whole event.”

Bolivar grinned. “Good plan.”

“I still say we should be going for creepy, not romantic,” Olivia said.

“Don't worry,” Bolivar assured her. “The new cold light fibers I've installed inside the cave will give you both an eerie and a romantic quality. The whole thing will really pop when we crank up the fog machine.”

Olivia set her cup down on Zara's drafting table. “Let's try it.”

“You got it.” Bolivar went to stand at the control panel.

Olivia walked to the six-and-a-half-foot-high entrance of the blue cave and peered into the depths of the plastic foam construct. The fake cavern walls shimmered with a weird blue light.

“Give me the full range of special effects, Bolivar. Lights, sound, and the stupid fog. I want to see the whole show.”

Bolivar flipped switches on the panel. “Here we go. I give you Merlin's Cave.”

Olivia stepped into the artificial cavern. She was quickly enveloped in the futuristic blue light. The strange glow turned hazy as the fake fog swirled from concealed jets.

“Creepy enough for you?” Bolivar called.

“Pretty eerie, all right,” Olivia admitted. She moved deeper into the cave.

The imitation stone walls had been painted by one of the freelance artists who contracted with Light Fantastic. The woman specialized in faux and trompe l'oeil finishes.

Olivia was pleased with the final result. The stone-textured surface of the interior of the cave was satisfyingly rocky in appearance.

A short distance past the entrance, the cavern curved abruptly, cutting off the view of the studio outside. Olivia studied her surroundings with a critical eye.

It was not Hollywood or Disneyland, but it was good, she decided. The client would be pleased

The mist thickened, and the light grew more ominous. She looked at her hands and noticed that the strange glow had turned her skin an otherworldly color.

She walked around another corner and stepped into the center of the cave. On the night of the event a half-dozen computer stations would be installed to
allow guests to experiment with the latest versions of Camelot Blue wizardry.

“Give me the storm sequence,” Olivia called.

“Here goes.” Bolivar's voice was muffled by the cave walls.

Haunting electronic music swelled. Wind blew. Thunder drummed in the distance. Arrows of blue light crackled overhead and underfoot. The hazy mist thickened. It reflected the glow, intensifying the aura of sorcery.

Olivia was engulfed in the special effects. The dancing lights pulsed with the electronic music in a dazzling, intricate pattern that had a mesmerizing effect.

“Well, shoot,” she muttered. “I'm going to have to give Bolivar and Zara another raise.”

Bolivar had gone a bit overboard on the fog, she decided. It was getting noticeably thicker by the second. She waved a hand to clear away some of the misty stuff.

“Turn off the fog, Bolivar. I can't see a thing.”

There was no response. She realized he could not hear her above the music and the sounds of the gathering storm.

“Bolivar, shut off the fog.”

The vapor grew denser. The lenses of her glasses misted. She realized that she could no longer make out the outlines of the fake rock walls.

She removed her glasses and wiped the lenses on her sleeve. When she put them back on they immediately clouded over a second time. It was like being trapped inside a blue cotton candy machine, she thought. Everything around her was concealed in a fuzzy, dark turquoise mist.

The music soared, a high-tech electronic symphony with strong Celtic themes.

Irritated, she groped her way toward the exit. At one point she flung out a hand and made contact with a wall. Her knuckles scraped against the rough surface.

“Ouch.” She winced and shook her bruised fingers. Gingerly she made her way by touch along the twisting corridor that led to the mouth of the cave.

She rounded a corner.

And froze when she saw the dark figure looming in the glowing mist.

“Bolivar?”

But she knew it was not her cousin. Even with vapor-shrouded glasses she could see that whoever he was, this man was too tall, too broad across the shoulders, too overwhelming in every way to be Bolivar.

Please don't let him be a potential client
. The runaway fog would not make a good impression, she thought. Belatedly it occurred to her that he might be from the Camelot Blue publicity department come to check on progress.

Her business instincts surged to the fore. She rallied swiftly.

“A small problem with the fog machine,” she said in her most reassuring tones. “Nothing to worry about. We'll have it adjusted in no time.”

Blue mist swirled around the man as he moved toward her. “I'm told there's a mechanical problem. The young man at the controls asked me to come in and guide you out. He said that by now your glasses would be fogged up.”

Perhaps because she could not make out his features,
she was acutely conscious of his voice. It was imbued with a deep, dark resonance that vibrated along her nerve endings. He spoke softly, but she could hear him quite clearly through the ancient music.

Instinctively she removed her glasses again. She batted impatiently at the seething mist. It parted just long enough to reveal a magician's enigmatic eyes and severe, ascetic features.

Merlin had returned to his cave.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“I'm Sloan.”

A strange shiver shot down her spine. The glowing blue vapor seemed to intensify. She waved her hands frantically to clear her view.

“Darn it, I told Bolivar it was a mistake to go for the romantic atmosphere,” she said.

“It usually is.”

He gripped her arm with powerful fingers and led her out of the mist-filled cavern into the light of day.

He had done business with plenty of women in the past, but he knew in his gut that this time things would be different. This woman was different.

Jasper paused briefly in the doorway of Olivia's small office. He barely managed to suppress a groan.

The desk was piled so high with papers, notebooks, and invoices that he could not see the surface. There were more papers on top of the computer.

On the other side of the room a file drawer stood open. The folders inside were crammed willy-nilly with documents. More folders, apparently waiting to be filed, were stacked perilously high on top of the cabinet. The air of busy clutter made him want to grind his teeth.

Without a word he made his way through the crowded space. He went to stand at the glass window that looked out over the studio.

The fact that his new business partner had no respect for order and organization was the least of his problems, he told himself. Of far more immediate concern was this intense, edgy awareness that arced through him. The office seemed very small with the two of them in it. He felt as if he stood in the center of a small electrical storm. Invisible energy crackled in the air.

Behind him he heard Olivia close the door. He glanced over his shoulder and watched her circle around behind her desk. As far as he could tell, she appeared blithely unaware of the sizzle in the atmosphere.