Last Resort (19 page)

She stopped. Now that she was on the point of asking she couldn't quite work out how to phrase her questions without sounding petty. T was wondering/ she began,

"how you came to be his godmother ..."

Why worry about sounding petty when you

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could always sound ridiculous, she cringed inwardly.

"His mother and I were at finishing school together/ Sylvia answered, a smile evident in her voice.

"Why do you ask?"

Finishing school, Penny was thinking in disgust. Of course: didn't everyone go to finishing school?

"Well, I suppose I have to come right out with it/ she said.

Tou usually do."

Tes, well, what I was really wondering was how he knows so many people."

Terrific, Penny, she congratulated herself. Why don't you just ask now how he manages the miraculous feat of walking without crutches when he doesn't have a broken leg?

"How does David know so many people?"

Sylvia repeated, obviously baffled by the question.

"Well, I imagine because he's travelled such a lot. Why does it bother you?"

"It doesn't. I mean, what bothers me is that he seems able to pull on so many influential people at the drop of a hat. And then when I ask him how he knows all these people he just says he's too modest to tell me."

Arrogant bastard, she added silently.

Sylvia was laughing.

"Modesty is a new feature in David's repertoire/ she said.

"I'd like to see it."

"So you haven't seen him lately, then?"

"No. Should I have?"

"No. I just wondered where he was when he was supposed to be here."

"Why don't you ask him?"

"I'd rather lasso my tongue to a galloping horse than give him the satisfaction."

She suffered Sylvia's laughter until she was sure Sylvia was listening again, then said,

"Basically, I want to know what qualifications he has ..."

Qualifications? What was she saying, for God's sake?

"What businesses has he been involved in before?"

she said decisively.

"Oh now, let me see. Well, I guess the easy answer to 139

that is: you name it, he's done it. As I told you before, he has an excellent head for business, which is how he came to be such a wealthy man."

"I didn't know he was wealthy/ Penny said, feeling her face start to freeze.

Again she waited, realizing that Sylvia was enjoying herself immensely at the other end of the line.

"So,"

she went on, when Sylvia had finished laughing,

"if he's so wealthy, what is he doing down here playing around with this hick magazine?"

"It won't be hick by the time the two of you have finished with it."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"It doesn't? I rather thought it did."

Penny blinked. As someone who normally prided herself on her ability to ask all the right questions, she could hardly believe what a total mess she was making of this.

"But it doesn't tell me what kind of things he's been involved in up to now/

she said,

"and, for all I know, still is,"

she added quickly. She was thinking now of the dubious characters he had mentioned, who hadn't as yet made contact, and she was half afraid that she had made a prize idiot of herself by taking him seriously.

"Well, to answer your question accurately I need to make a few phone calls first. He was in the States for a long time and I'm not entirely au fait with everything he was doing there. But, in a nutshell: I know he closed several big deals with shipping agents, getting them to use companies in which he had anything from a minimal to a controlling share; the same with a couple of the big computer companies and I think, but don't quote me, with one of the major record companies. A coupl of years ago he won the contract for I can't remember how many government-run trade fairs and, as far as I know, he's still one of the major stockholders in some kind of housing project in Miami.

There's probably more, but, like I said, I'd have to make a few calls to find out precisely what."

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'I don't think that'll be necessary/ Penny said crisply, and when the perfunctory goodbyes were over she rang off.

The call left her feeling unaccountably depressed. Well, not entirely unaccountably: for hearing all that about him had more or less confirmed her suspicions that he and not Sylvia was her boss. But if he was, then why wouldn't he admit it? Maybe she should try trapping him into it, for she'd had enough experience of him to know that a direct line of questioning would get her nowhere.

Deciding to leave the plotting of tactics until later, she turned back to the paperwork on her desk. Today's major decision, now that David had struck a stupendous deal with a printer in Toulon, concerned the artwork for everything from the front cover of the magazine itself to the snazzy little logo on their letterheads. Marielle and David had already flagged their preferences, which, surprise, surprise, happened to coincide, and Penny wondered how David would respond if she disagreed. She imagined he'd be willing to discuss it, but what if she chose the worst of the bunch, a title that obviously wouldn't work, and put up a show of sticking to her guns? What would he do then? Overrule her? It would be interesting to find out and maybe this was a way to get him to admit that they were no more a fifty-fifty partnership than Jacques Chirac and Noddy.

Looking up as someone knocked on the door, she called

"EntrezV and when Smithy's cheeky face peered round the door she broke instantly into a smile.

"Smithy!"

she cried, getting to her feet.

"I had no idea you were coming in today."

7ust passing/ he said, kissing her on both cheeks.

"You're looking a bit snowed under/ he commented, glancing at her desk.

"And harassed/ he added, rumpling her already dishevelled hair.

"Spot on with both/ she told him.

"But you're just the

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person I want to see. See this letter here/ she said, holding it up,

"It's taken eleven days to reach me from the UK. Eleven days."

Tes?"

he said, going to help himself to a coffee from her percolator.

"I want you to organize a comparative analysis of postal systems around Europe/ she told him.

"Set it in motion now and we'll run it just before Christmas. God knows whether it'll shake the French into doing something to improve their act, but we can try."

She put a hand to her head.

"Now let me see, there was something else I had for you... Ah yes, I know what it was. Somebody tipped me off the other night about a new theatre group starting up down here. I'd like you to look into it. I've got the contact numbers. It might be something we could get into sponsoring. Or maybe I should give that to Marielle,"

she added, looking confused.

"Yes, I think that one should go to Marielle and you can take on the French presidential profile we discussed the other

day."

"Anything else?"

he grinned, sitting down.

"Did you speak to Brigitte on your way through?"

she asked, returning to her own chair.

"She was on the phone."

Then see her on the way out. I gave her a list this morning of things I want you to take on. There's a lot, so you'll probably need to rustle up a couple of worthy French hacks to give you a hand - and you could find yourself in Brussels a good deal more than here. Is that OK with you?"

"Sounds great to me,"

he said.

"And that lead me rather neatly on to what I've come to see you about. A mate of mine in Paris files a column every fortnight to one of the British tabloids, a kind of offbeat look at life in Paris. He's a bit of a wag so I thought you might be interested in running it too."

"I'll certainly take a look,"

Penny said.

"Get him to fax

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me some of his articles and where to get in touch with him."

Til do that/ he said, his freckly face breaking into a roguish grin.

Penny waited, sensing that there was more to come and that whatever it was was probably going to be embellished with the usual Smithy flair for the bizarre.

"Well, come on, out with it,"

she prompted when he simply continued to grin.

"I was just wondering,"

he said, his jug ears turning pink with some kind of devilish delight,

"if you're going to do it?"

Penny frowned.

"Do what?"

His grin widened.

"You mean David hasn't told you?"

Told me what?"

she asked warily.

"About the bungee jump he signed you up for."

"What!"

she cried.

"David Villers signed me up for a bungee jump! Well, you can tell him from me that if he thinks I'm going to jump out of..."

She started to laugh.

"You're winding me up,"

she said.

"No, scout's honour/ he saluted.

"He's put your name down for a bungee jump over at Theoule the Sunday after next. It's for charity."

Penny's eyes were dancing.

"I couldn't care less who it's for, there's no way in the world I'm doing a bungee jump/ she said. Tell him to do it."

Smithy chuckled.

"OK, I'd better come clean/ he said.

"He did put your name down, but then he saw there was parasailing too, so he's put you down for that instead. And guess who's going to be driving the boat!'

"I don't care who's driving/ Penny cried. "There's no way I'm allowing myself to be dragged out to sea on a parachute."

She looked at him, watching his tawny eyes sparkle with mischief.

"OK/ she sighed.

"Who's driving the boat?"

"David and yours truly."

He beamed.

"So you'll be in safe hands and you can't back out now because we've 143

already got you some sponsors and the publicity's about to start."

"Paul Smith, if you think my feet are going as much as one inch off the ground with you two in control you've got to be out of your tiny mind. You'll cut me loose or something and I'll end up in a tree on Corsica."

"Would we do that to you?"

he cried in horror.

"Yes! You would! Besides, I've never done it before and neither,"

she said forcefully as he made to interrupt,

"do I want to."

"Oh, come on, Pen, be a sport. It'll be a laugh."

"For you maybe,"

she cried.

"But I've got a better idea. Why don't one of you go up and let me drive the boat?"

"Oh, there's no fun in that,"

he scoffed.

Despite the sheer absurdity of the idea Penny had to confess that there was a little part of her that wouldn't mind giving it a go. But with David and Smithy at the helm?

"I'll think about it,"

she told him, wondering what the hell she could wear when she was already dying at the very idea of exposing her thighs in public. But she could always kit herself out in knee-length leggings or something.

"When did you say it was?"

she asked.

"A week on Sunday. Everyone's going to be there trying their hand at stuff they haven't done before ..."

"I bet you anything David's driven a boat before,"

she cut in.

"So what's he signed up for that he's never done? And it'd better be something life-threatening."

"I put him down for a song,"

Smithy told her.

"He's got to do a solo of'

"A song!"

she cried in disgust.

"Not good enough, 'm afraid. Where's the list? /'// choose something for him."

"If you'd heard him sing you'd know it's life-threatening,"

Smithy assured her.

"He's that bad they'll lynch

him."

Laughing, Penny said,

"If I don't get to him first. Where is he now, do you know?"

"Right now, not a clue. Haven't seen him since the 144

weekend. He's back, though,

"cos he called me last night."

Penny started to speak, then thought better of it. She'd been on the point of asking him if he knew any of David's friends or associates along the coast, but since David had adopted Smithy as some kind of kid brother she strongly suspected that her enquiries would get back to David.

"Well, if there's nothing else/ he said, looking at his watch,

"I'd better push off. Got a date over in Monte Carlo. Fancy having dinner with me one night, by any chance?"

"No, what I want is to have some parasailing lessons before I go out there and make a total idiot of myself. Can you fix them up for me?"

Tou don't need lessons/ he scoffed.

"It's easy."

Tes, well, we'll see about that/ she said, getting to her feet.

"Come on, let's go and see Brigitte and get that list."

After Smithy had gone Penny wandered over to Pierre's office to ask him to get hold of David and tell him she wanted to see him that night in her office.

The rest of the team had either gone home or taken themselves off to Legends by the time David arrived. Penny was at her computer, with the various samples of artwork for the magazine spread out on her desk, and having spent the past hour running through in her mind exactly how she was going to handle this she believed herself to be as ready for him as she'd ever be. Even so, as he walked through the door looking very much in need of a shave and regarded her with that habitual lazy humour in his dark blue eyes she felt herself momentarily waver - and the sight of a radiant and deeply infatuated Marielle coming in behind him didn't help matters much either.

As the colour rose in Penny's cheeks, she lowered her eyes for fear that David would read what she was

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thinking. That he and Marielle had come fresh from indulging themselves in the pleasures of each other's beautiful bodies was so obvious that Penny almost felt like a voyeur. Worse, she felt a total mess and wished she'd thought to wipe away her smudged mascara and tidy up her hair. With a quick and silent reprimand she pulled herself together. What the hell did she care what she looked like? That wasn't what this evening was about.

"Since we're discussing the artwork, Marielle felt she should be at the meeting too,"