The Golden Chance (20 page)

“But I…”

Reed turned to his son. “Make it the morning after tomorrow, and I'll join you. I've got a game tomorrow or I'd say make it then.”

Nick stepped back from the car. “All right,” he said. “We'll make it the day after tomorrow.”

“Don't forget Eleanor's dinner party tomorrow night,” Reed added as he put his foot down on the accelerator.

Ten minutes later Reed walked into the house and went in search of Hilary. He found her in the study that had once been his personal domain. As he walked into the room he realized that through the wide windows a person could see a portion of the cliff road. He wondered if Hilary had been watching Nick and Phila return from the beach.

“Hello, Reed.” Hilary looked up from the file she was examining. She leaned back in her chair and smiled politely. “Did you want something?”

“Just wanted to let you know I've got a game at three o'clock.”

“All right. I'll tell the housekeeper to plan dinner accordingly. Will Nick be eating with us tonight?”

“No, I don't think so.” Reed looked at the beautiful, perfectly groomed woman who was his wife. Every hair was in place. Her makeup was flawless. She was the picture of elegant femininity.

Then he thought about Phila looking tousled and flushed, slightly embarrassed and happy. He could not imagine Hilary ever looking that way. He was pretty sure Nick wouldn't be able to imagine her looking that way, either.

His son had definitely missed out on something important during his disastrous marriage, something he appeared to be finding with Phila Fox.

Eleanor presided over dinner the following evening with the elegant ease of one who has spent a lifetime cultivating the fine art of formal entertaining.

Phila eyed the array of cutlery and glassware in front of her and felt like a guerrilla heading into combat. She would not screw up, she vowed silently. She was a well-educated human being who, although she had not been raised amid upper-class surroundings, had learned somewhere along the line how to tell a seafood fork from a salad fork.
She would not screw up
.

She was not about to let Eleanor intimidate her, especially since she had a sneaking suspicion that that had been the purpose of the dinner party. Eleanor sat at the far end of the impossibly long table smiling vaguely out over a sea of Wedgwood creamware, Sheffield silver plate and Waterford crystal, and Phila just knew what she was thinking. Eleanor was taking the opportunity to demonstrate how out of place Crissie had been here and, by extension, how out of place Phila herself was.

Phila was very glad that Crissie had told her about the Wedgwood and the Sheffield and the Waterford. It made it easier to act casually when the stuff was plunked down in front of her.
I just pretend it's all plastic
, Crissie had said.

“I understand you're a social worker, dear,” Eleanor said as she delicately separated a slice of fish from the halibut steak on her plate. “How did you meet Crissie?”

“I met her when I was sent to a foster home after my grandmother died.”

“Your grandmother? Then you weren't an abandoned child?”

“You mean like Crissie?” Phila smiled brilliantly as she saw Eleanor's eyes flicker. “No, I was far more fortunate. My parents cared about me, but they were both killed when I was very young. My father's mother took me in and raised me until I was thirteen.”

Reed looked up from his fish, his expression curious. “How did your folks die?”

“In a helicopter crash in South America. The 'copter was shot down.”

“Shot down! What in blue blazes were they doing in South America?” Reed demanded, ignoring Eleanor's frown over the harsh language.

“They were involved in helping Indians who were being systematically hunted and shot by their own government. The local government always claimed it was Communist rebels who shot down the 'copter, but everyone knew it was the government's own forces that did it. It was an open secret.”

Nick's eyes narrowed. “Did your parents do that kind of thing routinely?”

“You mean helping people like those Indians?” Phila picked up her water glass, aware of the diamond shapes of the cut crystal beneath her fingertips. “Oh, yes. They were devoted to doing what they could to help those less fortunate than themselves. They traveled all over the world on behalf of an organization called Freedom for the Future Foundation. Have you heard of it?”

Reed groaned aloud, and Nick's brows rose in amusement. Darren shook his head, and Victoria sighed. Hilary winced, and Eleanor made a tut-tutting sound and quickly passed a plate of asparagus.

Phila was pleased with the reaction. “Ah hah. You
have
heard of it.”

“A troublemaking, anarchistic, radical left-wing fringe group that's always sticking its nose in where it doesn't belong,” Reed declared, stabbing at his asparagus. “Financed by a bunch of hypocritical do-gooders who don't have the sense to know they're nothing but Communist dupes.”

“Are you calling my parents hypocritical Communist dupes?” Phila asked very softly, more than ready for battle on this front.

Reed finally noticed the look in her eyes and muttered something under his breath. “I'm sorry about what happened to your folks, but you can't expect me to condone an outfit like that goddamned Freedom for the Future Foundation. They're all a bunch of wild-eyed crazies, and everyone with an ounce of common sense knows it.”

“I don't expect you to condone the foundation. That would be asking too much, given your ridiculously narrow-minded views, but I do expect you to show some respect for my parents. They died working for something they believed in, and I would think even a Lightfoot could appreciate that.”

“I'm sure Reed didn't mean to be unkind,” Hilary said in a soothing tone.

“Of course he didn't,” Eleanor confirmed. “Have some more asparagus, dear. Washington grown. It's excellent this time of year.”

Darren regarded Phila thoughtfully. “Did you travel with your parents when you were a child?”

“No, I stayed behind with Grandmother. The places my parents had to go on behalf of the foundation were usually dangerous.”

“I'm sure your parents meant well,” Nick said seriously. “But as far as I'm concerned, they had no business risking their necks all over the world when they had a daughter to raise. You should have been their first priority.”

Phila, who had often harbored similar disloyal thoughts in moments of great loneliness, began to get really angry. “They had a right to follow their consciences. If no one did, this world would be a much worse place to live in than it already is.”

“I agree with Nick,” Darren said unexpectedly. “Once you were born, your parents had an obligation to think of your future. Their first duty was to protect you, not a bunch of strangers.”

Victoria nodded, her dark eyes shadowed. “I think it's very sad that you were left alone in the world because your parents were out trying to save other people.”

“You're all speaking so piously on the subject because you don't happen to approve of the work my parents were doing. I'm sure if I'd said my father was in the armed forces and had got sent into dangerous trouble spots all over the world on behalf of the good old U.S. of A., you'd say it was his duty to go.”

Reed scowled. “That's a different matter entirely.”

“Talk about hypocritical reasoning.” Phila smiled triumphantly and pointed her fork straight down the table at Reed. The asparagus stalk on the end of the fork wavered in the air. “Your logic is totally messed up. My parents were doing what they saw as their duty. Just as if they were in the military.”

“There is one important difference,” Nick pointed out. “If your father had been in the military, chances are your mother would have been at home with you. You wouldn't have lost both parents.”

“Now you're saying that women shouldn't be allowed to serve in the military? I suppose you're one of those chauvinists who doesn't think women should serve in combat positions?” Phila made this point so emphatically that the piece of asparagus fell off the tines of her fork.

Phila glanced down at the green spear lying on the priceless antique lace and did the only thing she could think of to do. She snatched the stalk up off the tablecloth and popped it into her mouth. When she caught Nick's eye, she saw he was laughing silently at her. It was the same kind of laughter she saw in his eyes when she made love with him.

“I see no reason to put women into combat.” Nick sank his strong white teeth into a large chunk of crusty sourdough bread. “They're not cut out for it.”

“If you feel that way, I'm surprised you're so gung-ho about teaching me how to use a gun.”

“I have nothing against a woman being able to take care of herself,” Nick retorted.

Darren nodded soberly. “I taught Vicky to use a revolver a few years back. It's just common sense.”

“Nick is an excellent teacher,” Hilary murmured from the far end of the table. “He taught me how to use a gun the year we got married.”

A lot of the wind went out of Phila's sails at that point. The thought of Nick teaching Hilary anything was depressing. Hilary's simple remark had the effect of forcibly reminding Phila that the other woman had once shared the most intimate of relationships with Nick. When she glanced across the table she saw that Nick's expression had reverted to a hard, shuttered look. That irritated her.

She considered launching into a lecture on the evils of handguns but then remembered she was hardly in a position to make a fuss on the subject. But she couldn't resist one small comment, if only for the sake of form.

“If we had better gun-control legislation in this country, none of us would have to worry about learning how to use a gun for protection. There wouldn't be so many weapons floating around in the hands of criminals.”

“The world is a dangerous place,” Eleanor said serenely. “One must do what is necessary.” When everyone turned to glance at her she quickly summoned up her distracted smile. She looked down the length of the table at Reed. “By the way, I wanted to remind everyone about Darren's fund-raiser in Seattle at the end of the month. Not long now, hmmm? I'm sure we'll get a substantial turnout. Just the sort of thing we need to kick off the gubernatorial campaign.” She turned to look at Nick. “I do hope everyone will be there? So important to show a united family front, don't you think?”

There was a soft stillness around the table before Hilary said briskly, “I'm sure that whoever needs to be there will be there, Eleanor. We all want to see Darren's campaign get off to a strong start. Isn't that right, Reed?”

“Sure.” Reed did not look terribly interested, one way or the other.

Victoria looked anxiously at Nick. “What do you think about Darren's chances of being governor, Nick?”

“I think,” said Nick, picking up his wineglass, “that the Castletons and Lightfoots are businessmen, not politicians.”

There was a stark silence following that remark. Darren broke it with an easy smile. “I think you're definitely a businessman, Nick. And, to be truthful, a much better one than I am. But I think I can make a contribution in the realm of politics. I do have some ideas and some skills that can be useful in governing this state. Washington is one of the last frontiers and at the rate it's being discovered, we need to start managing our resources well. If we don't, we'll lose them the way California did.”

“It takes money to run for office,” Nick pointed out. “A lot of it.”

Darren nodded, meeting Nick's eyes squarely. “No one makes it into public office these days without the backing of family money. Everyone knows that.”

“That's certainly true,” Phila interjected spiritedly. “Certainly makes politics a game for the wealthy upper classes, doesn't it? Not much chance for another Abe Lincoln these days.”

Reed glowered at her. “If a man can't prove he can make a success of his own life, I don't want him running the country. How's he going to keep the economy strong if he doesn't even have any talent for managing his own finances?”

“Oh, for heaven's sake…” Phila began. But before she could continue, she realized that Nick and Darren were still contemplating each other very thoughtfully.

“In your case, Darren,” Nick murmured, ignoring Phila, “it wouldn't just be Castleton family money involved, would it? It would be C&L money.”

“Yes,” Darren agreed. “It would, wouldn't it? I prefer to think of it as an investment in our future as well as the state's future. Castletons and Lightfoots have a major stake in Washington and the Northwest. Our destinies are linked.”

“C&L will survive, regardless of what happens politically in this state,” Nick stated.

Before Darren could argue, Victoria made a frantic stab at redirecting the conversation. “Well, I understand we're giving the townspeople a lot to talk about this summer,” she observed with false brightness.

“People will always talk,” Darren said with a shrug.

“You can't blame them for being curious under the circumstances,” Victoria persisted, sliding a sidelong glance at Phila.

Phila smiled back benignly. “The least you can do is give the good people of Port Claxton something to talk about, since you've apparently cut off the scholarship money and most of the contributions to local charities and civic-improvement projects.”

Everyone at the table turned to stare at her in astonishment.

“I believe we're ready for dessert,” Eleanor announced quickly. “I'll ring for Mrs. Atkins.” She picked up the silver bell beside her fork.

Bowls of fresh raspberries and cream arrived within minutes. In the subdued flurry of clearing dishes and serving dessert, Phila thought her last conversational gambit had been quashed. But she was wrong.

“What did you mean about cutting off scholarship and charity money?” Darren asked with a frown as Mrs. Atkins disappeared into the kitchen.

Phila swallowed a raspberry. “I recently had a very interesting chat with a nice young man who works in one of the grocery stores in town.”

“The Wilson kid,” Nick put in dryly, his eyes on Phila.

“He was complaining about a lack of charity handouts from us?” Hilary demanded.

Eleanor shook her head sadly. “People expect so much these days. There was a time when everyone had enough pride and gumption to stand on his own two feet.”

“You misunderstand,” Phila said smoothly. “He wasn't complaining. In fact, he admires you all tremendously. He even intends to vote for Darren, if he gets the chance. He merely commented on the fact that the Castletons and Lightfoots didn't seem to be taking as much of an interest in the town as they once did. I'm the one who's complaining about it.”

“What the hell have you got to complain about?” Reed demanded.

“Reed, please,” Eleanor said reprovingly.