“No. I don’t.”
“See?”
“See what?”
“You’re smart enough to know it’s a bad idea.”
“I’m smart enough to know it’s not for me. Believe me, it’s already a gamble opening a big casino and hotel in the backwoods of Massachusetts when it seems like the whole world wants you to fail.”
“I notice that you get a lot of negative press. But I don’t suppose it hurts that much, considering the money you’re making.”
“You’re right about that.” He shot her another warm smile that made her toes tingle. She cursed them. “So far we’ve proved everyone wrong and I intend to make sure it stays that way.”
“Why does the BIA want to investigate your accounts?” Was she allowed to ask that? She wanted to hear what he thought.
He shrugged. “Same thing, I think. If we were deeply in debt to a bank in Dubai or the mob, or asking for a government bailout, no one would be surprised. They can’t accept that fact that we’re successful and prospering all by ourselves. It makes people suspicious.”
“Why didn’t you need to borrow money?” There probably would have been no shortage of offers. Everyone wanted a piece of this juicy new pie.
“I prefer to be in charge of my own destiny. I sold my software company for eighty million dollars. I’m sure you read about that.”
“Yes, but why would you risk your personal fortune?”
“It’s an investment, and so far it’s worked out fine.” She managed not to turn and look at him, but she could see his satisfied smile in her mind. It was really annoying how likable he was. And he didn’t gamble? She was having a hard time finding reasons to hate him. And if he wasn’t cheating, it made her job harder, because it sounded as if her contact at the BIA wouldn’t be happy until Constance found something.
She’d expected them to return to the burned-out motel, but instead he pulled into a restaurant parking lot. Her white Toyota Camry sat off to one side, sparkling clean.
“I had them wash it and bring it here. I didn’t think you’d want to see the wreck of the motel. It’s a mess over there.”
“That was thoughtful.” She sneaked a glance at him but he was getting out of the car, not paying attention to her. “But why did they bring it here instead of the New Dawn?”
Unused to the sandals, Constance stepped out onto what felt like shaky ground. At least now that she had her car back, she could go buy some more sensible clothes and book a room somewhere else. This time she might ask some pointed questions about fire safety. She didn’t know what would have happened if the motel hadn’t been equipped with alarms.
“I made us a reservation for lunch here.”
“What?” She glanced at the restaurant, which—with hanging baskets of lush flowers and elegant striped awnings—looked upscale and expensive. “No! I couldn’t possibly. I need to go buy some...toiletries, and clothes. And I want to get more work done back at the office today.”
The last thing she needed was to sit opposite John Fairweather over a delicious meal. She’d surely lose the last shreds of her sanity. And really, he had quite a nerve even suggesting it. She should report his behavior to her BIA contact.
Except maybe she’d leave out the part about the kiss.
She climbed into her car and put her bag on the seat next to her. The new key started the engine perfectly, and the brakes screeched slightly as she reversed out of her space too fast. She turned and headed for the exit. It wasn’t until she saw John—in the rearview mirror—staring after her that she realized how rude she’d just been.
He was smiling slightly, as if he found the situation funny.
Which made her speed away even faster.
* * *
Safely ensconced at the desk in her new room at the Holiday Inn, Constance called her boss’s office to let her know why she’d had to move, and ended up speaking to her friend Lynn, the office receptionist.
“It’s a bummer that you live with
Learning to Kill: Stories