by Margaret Way
Jaime returned their greeting, smiling at Simon, who was looking at her with quite unfeigned admiration. She requested black coffee with toast and heard Uncle Gerard launch into the daily and quite serious lecture on the importance of a good breakfast, involving blood levels and sugar, or blood sugar levels; she never did listen, and felt like pointing out kindly that she was in perfect health notwithstanding. Uncle Gerard suffered from severe migraine and an incipient ulcer, but to comment on that would have pleased no one, so she simply tuned out.
'And what's on the agenda today?' Simon was asking, placing her coffee cup near her right hand, having rung for fresh toast.
'I'm going into the city today!' Jaime said, inadvertently disclosing her intentions, rattled as she was by Simon's heavy breathing. Now he would be sure to offer to drive her there, which he did.
'I'll take you,' he said promptly, giving her his usual embarrassing amount of attention. 'Where is it you want to go?'
'I want to see Quinn,' she said, something of a trouble-shooter herself.
'Sterling?'
Both men almost shouted her down. Uncle Gerard glared at her and came right out into the open, so severe was his shock.
'Yes, I want to talk to him!' Jaime explained artlessly.
Simon stared at her for a full ten seconds. 'He'll be busy, dear,' he said spitefully. 'Don't you know he's a very important man? One has to make an appointment weeks in advance to see Quinn. I should know, I spend practically all of my life trying to arrange a meeting.'
His father's anger was real and so obvious. 'What on earth would you want to see Sterling about?'
'Surely that's my affair, Uncle Gerard.'
The remark only served to further enrage him. 'Look here, young lady,' he cried pompously, in an achingly loud voice, 'it's time you and I had a talk! I consider Quinn Sterling our enemy!'
'I thought he was a partner in the firm.'
'You know nothing whatever about the true situation. Nothing whatever about big business.'
'It must be an inherited trait,' Jaime said calmly. 'I want to speak to Quinn about my own business.'
'Then kindly take my word for it,' her uncle shouted, still misunderstanding her, 'and I'm not going to spell it out again, Quinn Sterling is out to do us all harm.'
At that very moment the housekeeper came in with the fresh toast and there was a necessary little pause, simply burning with frustration. Jaime smiled at the woman and thanked her, and they all waited until she could reasonably be expected to be out of earshot. Gerard Hunter started out again, becoming more and more angry, giving his accumulated anxieties of the past month and more, full rein.
'I expect you, Jaime,' he said forcefully, 'to tell me exactly what you intend to discuss with Sterling. We know, of course, of your visits to Rosemount.'
'I've made no secret of them. May I remind you, Uncle Gerard, I'm a free agent, not some unfortunate employee, and I'm a guest in my grandfather's home.'
Gerard Hunter held up his hand and tried belatedly to gain control of himself. Why, the insolent little chit sounded exactly like the old man! 'If you're determined to misunderstand me, Jaime -'
'Oh, really, Dad, give the poor girl a go,' Simon protested, alarmed at the way things were going. 'You see, Jaime, there are aspects of this you couldn't possibly know about. It should suffice for Dad to tell you Quinn Sterling is no good. He intends to take over Hunter Sterling, and that we'll never allow.'
'We're talking at cross purposes,' Jaime said quietly. 'I wish to speak to Quinn about setting up my own business.'
Gerard Hunter's heavy handsome face flushed a dark red. 'Your own business?' he asked with ludicrous disbelief.
Simon leaned forward, laughing. 'Tell us?' he begged with mock urgency.
'I intend to become a dress designer.'
'A dressmaker?' her uncle wailed incredulously. 'Why, my dear girl, you'll make a holy show of us!'
'A dressmaker, how freaky!' Simon crowed.
'Yes, a dressmaker, like Pru Acton and Norma Tullo. Mary Quant and Zandra Rhodes, Schiaparelli and Coco Chanel!'
'Don't draw on those names!' Simon said waspishly, looking very much like his sister.
'Why not? I have ability. I'm prepared to work just as hard.'
'No woman of our family need work!' her uncle proclaimed disdainfully. 'If you must do something, your aunt heads a dozen different committees. I'm sure she could find something to keep you out of mischief!'
'Mischief isn't my scene, Uncle Gerard. Work is necessary for me. I could never be content to live out the easy life. I want to have a goal in life.'
'Have you had any training?' he asked coldly.
'I know what I'm about,' she rejoined. 'I've always known, just like some people know they're going to be singers, or concert pianists or doctors.'
'How marvellous!' Simon cooed, staring intently into her blue-violet eyes. 'But pray tell us, how does Sterling fit into all this? He's an unlikely partner for a dressmaker.'
'He's the best brain I know,' Jaime said flatly. 'I can't bother Grandfather with business matters. He's not nearly well enough.'
'Thank you for nothing, dear!' Simon said sweetly. 'How very generous of you.'
'You did ask me,' she pointed out.
'I also think you'll regret it,' her uncle intervened.
'You may have forgotten it, young woman, but Sterling hasn't. You're a Hunter!'
'Correction. My name is Gilmore,' Jaime said.
'It could so easily have been Sterling!' Simon mocked her. 'You've heard about poor old Nigel, haven't you? That old boring tale?'
'Maybe my idea of boring doesn't match yours. I respect Quinn's judgment. I'm very fond of his grandmother. She's been very kind to me.'
'Don't let the reason for that pass you by!' Gerard Hunter said sneeringly. 'You're pitifully naive!'
'An ulcer is too high a price to pay for wisdom.'
'How dare you!' her uncle burst out volcanically.
Jamie stared at him. 'Make no mistake, Uncle Gerard, I'm aware of your hostility.'
This, and the reminiscent set of her head, set a warning thrill through him. He fought to resume his mask of spurious affability and discretion, 'How could you, my dear! You're my niece, my own sister's child. It appals me to hear you say such a thing. We've done everything, everything we could to make you welcome. The girls have introduced you to their friends. The boys have taken you everywhere. At the end of the month we're throwing a big party to introduce you to the best people!'
'I can meet a lot of nice people on the bus or the ferry. Anyway, that was my grandfather's idea and I'm only going along with it to please him.'
'You're trying very hard to do that, aren't you, pet?'
'I don't have to try at all!' Jaime said bluntly.
A sudden passion of callous jealousy stared out of Gerard Hunter's eyes. 'Don't be too confident, my dear.'
Jaime looked away from him put on to the beautiful garden with its magnificent shade trees and blossoming shrubs. 'The close family relationship seems to have cracked wide open,' she said with sad irony, 'fallen apart. In a way it's a relief!'
Simon reached for her hand and pressed it affectionately. 'Listen, pet, this is so undignified. We simply don't know what you mean. We're only trying to protect you, to warn you about Sterling, and this is the way you thank us! You must apologise to Dad. You've offended him. Don't waste your life on your silly, girlish ambitions. I've no doubt you made nice little dresses for your dolls. In any case, I've already made up my mind about you.'
'Really, in what way?' she enquired.
'Lunch with me today and I'll tell you. I won't listen to any excuses!' Simon turned back to his father, his voice rallying. 'How could you bark at the poor girl, Dad? She's lost all her colour under that gorgeous tan.'
'I say, I am sorry,' Gerard Hunter maintained. 'You have gone pale. Forgive me, my dear.' He tried a frank smile. 'It's only that we know what's best for you. I can understand your desire to do a job o
f work, but there's absolutely no need to embark on a business career. Why, you'll be married in less than a year.'
'Why wait as long as that?' Simon said gaily, his eyes sparkling and hugely intrigued. 'Now I'm going to pour you another cup of coffee, Jaime, that's gone cold. I'll be set to leave in another twenty minutes.'
'I won't be ready then.'
'I'll wait longer if it will make things easier for you.'
'Thank you, Simon, but it's not necessary. Perhaps I'd better ring through and make an appointment to see Quinn. Thank you for the suggestion.'
'You're going to persist with this?' her uncle demanded, glancing bitterly at his son.
'Undoubtedly. I intend to succeed in life, Uncle Gerard.'
'Unlike your mother and father.'
'My father enjoys every day of his life. Do you?'
'Don't speak to Dad like that,' Simon said heatedly. 'He's not used to it.'
'Put it down to my pathetic naivety,' returned Jaime.
'It would be interesting to see what you make of yourself at that!' Simon said, staring at her in his febrile fashion.
'Come, Simon, we'll be late!' His father rose with dignity, folding his napkin neatly beside his plate. 'Don't imagine, young lady, that you'll be striking out on your own. Quinn Sterling is a highly skilled manipulator of people. He isn't to be trusted, and this time he's gone too far. Do you really think my father would want you to bypass him for Quinn Sterling?'
'I'm sure Grandfather, like you, would prefer me to lead a life of leisure, surrounded by luxury. It sounds great, but in actual fact it doesn't seem to work out. There's beauty in hard work. Salvation. I believe it's necessary if only to keep us on course!'
'How quaint!' Simon said as though he had given a great deal of thought to the matter. 'I find it enormously boring!'
'Your aunt will be horrified,' Gerard Hunter intoned.
'Whatever for?' Jaime looked up at him.
'You know perfectly well what I mean. This idea of yours is extraordinary. I mean, a tatty dressmaker!'
'Would you call the suit I have on tatty? The dress I had on last night? It inspired my cousins to stare at me all evening. Leigh wouldn't rest until I told her where I bought it.'
'You mean you made it yourself?' Simon said incredulously. 'You're not such a fool as I took you for.'
'I'm not the fool, Simon!' She looked back at him levelly.
'This is lovely, a dressmaker in the family! Wait until I tell Mother. Tell me, are you going to use Falconer as your premises?'
'I won't tell you anything at all,' Jaime returned crisply. 'I didn't really expect you to be interested, much less wish me luck!'
'Have you spoken to my father?' Gerard Hunter looked down his fine, straight nose at her, bitterly shocked.
'Not as yet, but I will in my own good time.'
'I'll speak to him,' he retaliated with cold ferocity.
'I'm sure you will, Uncle Gerard, but have a care. It will do you no good at all to criticise me.'
'Ah!' he released a long choking breath. 'Could you be threatening me?'
'Not at all! I'm like you, Uncle Gerard, I'm only trying to point out the dangers.'
Resolutely he walked away from the table, a most peculiar expression on his face. 'I'm leaving in exactly ten minutes, Simon. Are you coming with me or are you taking your own car ?'
'I'll come with you,' Simon said instantly with considerable sympathy. 'There are things we need to discuss.'
After his father had left the room Simon lingered for a moment longer. 'It's hard to go against the strength, pet. You'd better pick your side.'
'I have already.'
'Then don't say you weren't warned. You know, Jaime, you're an endless temptation until you open your mouth. Women aren't cut out to be tycoons and they never will be.'
Jaime flared up. 'Don't you believe it! It's only now that women have come to take a great pride in their talents or even been allowed to. We've arrived and we're here to stay. Don't worry, it's no big disaster. It's the men who have to answer for the state of the world as it is today—no temptation for a woman to bring children into it.'
'You're irrational, over-emotional!' Simon accused her, sounding quite overwrought.
'Believe that and you'll believe anything! Run along, Simon. Don't keep your father waiting. I notice you're exceptionally dutiful, or is that the impression you want to create?'
He shrugged and a very hard expression came on to his face. 'You're a very clever girl, Jaime. I can almost admire you.'
'I know. I'm hoping my mind will cancel out my other attractions!'
'I doubt it! Lunch?'
'No, thank you.'
'You'd better leave Quinn Sterling well alone. Either Sue or Leigh would scratch your eyes out.'
'A jungle, is it not?' she said.
'And it's you who'll finish up licking your wounds…'
Jaime forced herself to smile at him. 'You've got the slogan the wrong way around; Right is might!'
'Boy, are you the new girl!'
She nodded. 'I suppose I am, but that's the way I'm going to do it.'
'Then you won't worry us. Ever hear the sad tale about Honest John Sterling? A very aristocratic and highly ethical man. Given his head Honest John would have ruined us, by cleaning up here and there, instead Grandfather brought him to his knees.'
'Apparently Quinn's sorting that one out!'
'You're quick to defend him, aren't you? He doesn't need you, little girl. Quinn is unique among the Sterlings. A brilliant, complex man with tremendous energies, infinitely tougher than all his ancestors put together.'
'You sound as if you admire him, in a grudging sort of way,' remarked Jaime.
'He's bringing the Corporation on in leaps and bounds.'
'Then shouldn't you go down on your knees and thank him?'
'That's likely!' Simon jeered. 'Remember the name, dear, Hunter Sterling? Quinn might start demanding an entirely different arrangement. Sterling Hunter, or maybe just plain The Sterling Corporation. Get my drift? Well, so long, kiddo. Enjoy yourself, though you're going to make it hard on yourself every step of the way.'
'Water off a duck's back!' said Jaime, looking right back at him.
'You must like trouble,' Simon said unbelievingly, 'and I'm telling you, you'll get just that.'
'I know, but listen, Simon, it's not really clever to make threats.' Jaime's heart was racing and she felt sick inside. The trouble was, though she found it easy to fence with words, her relatives had the edge on her in every department. They were ruthless and wolfish and hard as steel chips. She was actually a fool to cross them, rushing into verbal combat when she couldn't even guess at the real weapons they might use against her. The only friend she had at Falconer was her grandfather, a man with a serious heart condition. She could never use him as her supreme weapon. One spasm of anger or retaliation oh her behalf might kill him. All she could do was use him as a bluff. So heartless themselves, the family might consider her equally ruthless to gain her own ends.
It was with the greatest relief that she heard the front door slammed shut as if in a massive protest. Uncle Gerard was furious with her. He would have to be careful to avoid a bad migraine. In another half-hour, she would ring through and make an appointment to see Quinn. Her grandfather was no ordinary man. He had done many things that couldn't possibly have been' right, but now he was old and sick to death, absolutely beyond touching. Quinn probably had very good reason to hate him, yet she was quite sure he didn't. Quinn's purpose was resolute. He was brilliant and super-efficient, thunderously formidable' on occasions, but he wasn't cruel. Somehow he had managed to retain an element of pity for her grandfather. She had seen it in his eyes.
Jaime sat very still at the table, a strange pallor under her skin. She was sick and shaken, but she wasn't feeling the full effects even yet. A vivid picture of Quinn began to move behind her eyes. His sombre dark face was smiling, a light passing across it, softening his beautiful, well defined
mouth, faultless white teeth, brilliant black eyes with silver points of light at the centre. She saw him very clearly. He might have been sitting opposite her, one lean brown hand reaching out to her. She relaxed her rigid spine and all at once she began to feel better.
CHAPTER FIVE
Jaime crossed the foyer of the Hunter Sterling Corporation Building, making for the nearest lift. She was right on time, though she had found it necessary to use her grandfather's name to get through the armada of telephonists, receptionists, and private secretaries that surrounded the Corporation's top executives in an elaborate defence system. It galled her that Jaime Gilmore had cut no ice, but it was imperative she see Quinn. As Sir Rolf Hunter's granddaughter she had found it wondrously easy to speak to him, but not so easy to see him. He was tied up all morning and told her very briskly that he would meet her for lunch. She had hung up swiftly, but even then he had beaten her to it. It only took her a moment to assimilate the fact Mr Quinn Sterling's office was synonymous with the Holy of Holies. To be able to see him at all was some small comfort.
By the time she reached the top floor, she found he was further buffered by an anteroom. His secretary, an immaculately groomed brunette in her late thirties, was busy on the phone, but she went through the usual pantomime of smiling and mouthing silently to Jaime to take a seat. After a moment she replaced the receiver and enquired warmly:
'Miss Gilmore?'
Jaime said that she was, aware that she was getting a most meticulous head-to-toe inspection for possible relay to the rest of the typing pool. It didn't make any difference, but still she didn't really like it. One was supposed to look only briefly, then away again, not this show of undivided attention. She decided to return this frank stare, then the secretary picked up the intercom phone and rang through to Quinn's office. Another minute and he was there, opening the door, no smiles but the same brilliant alertness, thanking 'Betty' and showing Jaime through to his office, pulling forward the nearest chair.
