Lonely Millionaire (13 page)

Gene leaned forward and clutched his side. "Take me to the hospital first. As soon as I bring you up to speed on our operations."

Adam listened with half an ear to Gene's explanations. Meanwhile his mind was on Jack. What was wrong with him? He'd told Jack that Mandy was the one. As soon as he got Gene into the hospital, he'd get Jack on the phone and talk some sense into him.

But it took the rest of the day to check Gene into the hospital, call Gene's ex-wife, and get his last-minute instructions for running the business. Before Adam left him, Gene was wrapped in a hospital gown and a nurse was drawing blood out of his arm with a needle. His boss raised his free hand, told Adam he appreciated what he'd done, and handed him the keys to his house.

Adam hesitated. It wasn't a good time to talk about his future with the company, not when Gene was going under the knife the next day. So he promised he'd look after Elvis, and went back to the office. Since most of their operations were in faraway parts of the world, it was a good time to make calls and send faxes. And he certainly didn't want to go back to Gene's house and stare out the windows at the view of the bay with only Elvis for company.

He spun around in Gene's chair and surveyed the map of the world that covered the wall. It was dotted with red flags, each denoting one of Parvo's installations. He stared at the one of the Yukon River for a long time before he called Jack. Then he waited an eternity for Jack to answer.

"I can't tell her now, she's in the kitchen. But I can tell you one thing, she's not a gold digger. As soon as my replacement comes, I'm outta here, man."

"Nothing," Adam admitted, then he said goodbye and hung up. What did he know about love? All he knew was that he couldn't keep his mind on the operations of Parvo Petrochemicals because his brain was stuck on the other side of the coastal hills. He was wondering what Mandy was doing tonight. Had she gone back to wallpapering in a loose T-shirt and shorts, or was she sitting on the couch in front of the fire sipping sherry while he sat here in Gene's swivel chair calling outposts from Saudi Arabia to Norway?

Were there guests in his bed, in his upstairs room with the view of the ocean? Would she serve than breakfast in bed the way she'd done for him? He ground his teeth together at the thought of her appearing in her white apron first thing in the morning in front of anyone but him. And yet here he was urging Jack to drop Julie and hustle himself to the Miramar Inn for the purpose of considering Mandy. Was he crazy? Was he too nice for his own good?

No. Mandy deserved happiness, love and security, just what Jack was offering. Only he was offering them to the wrong woman. Arranging transcontinental shipments seemed a breeze compared to arranging these people's lives, but he had a responsibility to do what he could.

Mandy was not serving anyone breakfast in bed, not the next day or the day after that. Last week's boom had turned into this week's bust. Laurie had flown off to St. Louis and no guests had checked in since Adam had checked out last week. No one came, no one called. Mandy had fooled herself into thinking business was on the upturn. Instead, last week had just been an aberration, and now she was back to normal, which was to say she was back to nothing. Yes, she could have gone back to the wallpaper project, but what was the point, if there was no one to appreciate it? She could have replanted her flower boxes, too, but why bother?

She didn't hear from Jack, and of course she didn't hear from Adam. She wouldn't. He was probably bobbing around on an oil platform in the North Sea and out of touch with the whole world. Just the way he wanted it.

Then, to top it all off, just when she thought things couldn't get any worse, she got a "Dear Mandy" letter from Jack. In it he explained he was to marry one of his other correspondents, but that he'd always treasure their friendship.

Mandy gripped the mailbox for support with one hand and crumpled the letter in the other. Friendship? Was that all it had meant to him? While she'd fooled herself into thinking he was serious about her, he'd been serious about someone else. It was happening all over again. She felt so stupid that tears sprang to her eyes. She could have sworn she was more than just a friend to Jack.

But she was wrong. Again. Last week there were two men in her life. And now there was no one. There never had been anyone, she reminded herself as she walked up the front steps, her eyes downcast. When she heard the phone ring, she threw the letter into the wastebasket and ran to her desk.

"At the office in Menlo Park?" Suddenly she was forced to revise her image of Adam as a windblown figure on an oil rig to Adam in a suit and tie in an office.

"Yes. My boss went in for surgery last week so I'm stuck here for a while." There was a long pause. "How are you?"

"How can you be so cynical? For your information, Jack is quitting his job and moving to the States. He's going to give his marriage a chance." She couldn't help this dig at Adam, who didn't seem to realize that marriage required compromises. Not that Mandy knew anything about marriage. At least Adam had made it to the altar. Mandy had never even gotten that far.

"Was that his future wife's idea, quitting his job?"

"I couldn't say," she said coolly. She would never let on to anyone how much she'd cared about Jack, how sad she was to let him out of her life. "I think I hear someone at the door," she said quickly. "I'd better go."

"Keep in touch," he said, and he gave her his office number before he hung up.

She sat at her desk staring at the telephone for a long time, wondering why on earth he'd called, anyway, and why he'd asked about Jack. She hoped he didn't think she was still dreaming about his goodbye kiss, still reliving every intoxicating moment. She would never understand how he could kiss her like that and then forget all about it, act so casual on the phone, as if it had meant nothing to him.

The answer came to her in a flash. Because it had meant nothing to him. He probably had forgotten all about it While she replayed the scene over and over in her mind like a broken record, he'd just moved on with his life. Which was exactly what she should do. The problem was that everything reminded her of Adam. The wallpaper in the bathroom, the sheets on the bed where he'd slept, the stove he'd cooked dinner on, the patio and the beach and on and on. For once in her life she wished she were a flight attendant like Laurie and could fly off to some exotic spot like Toledo. Anyplace but here.

On Sunday it was too cool to have breakfast on the patio, so she sat at the kitchen table. She opened the Sunday newspaper to the travel section, to dream about going to Hawaii and to check out the competition in bed and breakfasts. She skipped to the "Follow the Reader" section, where readers recommended their favorite vacation spots, hotels or tours. And there it was, a letter from a reader about the Miramar Inn.

The letter was signed "Adam Gray." She set her coffee cup down with a bang and smoothed the paper with her thumb and forefinger. First he praised the comfortable rooms, then the view, next the breakfast and then came the best part.

Mandy's face flamed with embarrassment. What did he mean by "romantic getaway"? Did he think she came on to every single guest? She paced the kitchen floor, then sat down and read the letter again. Whatever he meant, he meant it kindly and it was good of him to take the time to write. She only hoped someone would read it and call to make a reservation.

Which they did. It started Monday morning. Just one letter to the newspaper and suddenly she was booked on weekends for the next month. Then she started filling up the weeknights, too. When Laurie called her from St. Louis, Mandy shared the good news.

Mandy shook her bead. "He's going to work in gale-force winds where men are swept out to sea if they so much as miss a step. He's not afraid of anything."

"I could do that," Mandy said thoughtfully, as if she hadn't thought of it herself. As if she hadn't been thinking of it constantly.

"Of course you could. And then he'll say, 'Why don't we get together and take up where we left off? Now that Jack's out of the picture and I'm divorced there's nothing to stand in our way.'"

"And then I'll say, 'But what about your job in the North Sea where no women are allowed?'" Mandy said.

"And he'll say that he'll smuggle you into his cabin, bring you leftovers from the dinner table and make mad, passionate love to you in his bunk all night long."

Mandy laughed. "And what about my business? My reservations that won't quit? My chance to finally climb out of the red and into the black? Are you suggesting that I give it all up for a life as a stowaway in the North Sea?"