Against All Odds (Arabesque)

by Gwynne Forster

  “Ilona Harváth, this is Magnus Cooper. Mr. Cooper lives in Texas and is here on business. Magnus, Ilona is a dear friend visiting me from New York.” He nodded.

  “Mmm. How do you do?” Ilona’s raised eyebrow and suggestive shrug told them what she thought of Cooper’s business in Frederick. Melissa asked him to excuse her and promised to see him at her office the next morning.

  * * *

  Inside, Ilona looked around, complimented Melissa on her home, and got down to business. “Melissa, darling, if this man you are so taken with doesn’t look as good as the one who just left here, I will kill you.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes skyward as though savoring the tenderest fresh truffle. “Darling, this Cooper is a real man. If I was ten years younger, I’d separate him from the pack in a minute.”

  “You could do it now.” She took Ilona’s bag and walked upstairs with her to the guest room.

  “Darling, don’t make jokes.” That expression always amused Melissa, as did the withering look that accompanied it. She raced to answer the phone in her room.

  “Did your friend arrive?” She flopped down on the side of her bed, kicked off her shoes and swung her legs up on the coverlet.

  “Yes. She’s here. You want to run by for a couple of minutes after you leave the office? I’d like you to meet her.” And she longed to see him, to reassure herself that what she’d experienced with him that morning had been real, that she hadn’t dreamed it. She couldn’t understand the long silence nor his seeming lack of enthusiasm when he replied.

  “Why not? See you in a half hour.” She combed her hair, refreshed her makeup, and dabbed a little perfume behind her ears and at her temple. She arrived at the top of the stairs simultaneously with Ilona.

  “Don’t tell me,” Ilona said, folding her arms about her chest in a gesture of satisfaction. “That was him, and he’s coming over. Let me get my heels. I wouldn’t be—”

  “—caught dead around a man wearing those flats,” Melissa finished for her.

  * * *

  Melissa tried not to rush to the door when he rang, and she had to muster an air of casualness when she opened the door.

  “Hi.” He didn’t speak but stood looking down at her, his gaze roaming over her upturned face. And after what seemed to her endless minutes, he opened his arms and folded her to him. Unable to wait longer, she leaned back and fastened her gaze on his mouth in a silent request, and he gave her what she wanted, crushing her to him and shivering against her when she opened her mouth beneath his in sweet union.

  He eased her from him, and tugging her to his side, turned toward the living room.

  “Where’s your friend?”

  “Is somebody asking for me?” Ilona queried as she strolled down the stairs from her perch where she couldn’t help but witness their kiss. Melissa couldn’t suppress a hearty laugh. She should have known that Ilona couldn’t wait to see Adam. She introduced them, and Adam went to greet her before she reached the bottom of the stairs.

  Ilona accepted the introduction with the comment, “Melissa, darling, this is God’s country. I’m living in the wrong state.”

  Melissa needled her. “But we don’t have a ballet here, remember?”

  “Who needs the ballet? From my experience since I’ve been here, I can’t see how you’d have time for it.” She shook Adam’s hand. “I’m happy to meet you, Adam. You mustn’t mind my continental manners.”

  Adam’s grin seemed to please her. “I doubt the continent has much to do with your manners. I know a free spirit when I see one. Welcome to Frederick, Ilona.”

  Melissa sensed his forced manners. She’d felt a distance between them during their phone conversation and when she’d opened the door for him. And she sensed it now.

  “Would you join us for a drink? Ilona drinks only espresso coffee, but I’d like some wine. What about you?”

  He glanced at his watch. “Thanks, but I’ve asked Jason Court to come down here, and I want to meet him at the airport this evening.” He bade Ilona goodbye, and they walked to the door.

  “I sense a problem. What’s wrong?”

  “Did you enjoy your visit with Magnus Cooper?” The question surprised her, and she suspected from his closed expression that he hadn’t planned to ask her that. She wondered how he’d known that Magnus came to her house, but she ignored his sarcasm and his audacity.

  “We didn’t visit. I made an appointment to see him at my office tomorrow morning. Anything else?” He ran his right hand over the back of his hair and looked at her intently for a few seconds without saying anything. She knew when he made up his mind to tell her about it.

  “Sometime between six o’clock and eight this morning, someone sprayed red, oil-based paint on a batch of leathers that Cal had planned to ship today. He’s threatened to resign if this sabotage continues. I’ll be busy with this for the next few days, but I’ll be in touch.” He kissed her quickly and left. Melissa forced a bright expression on her face and went back to get Ilona’s extended verdict.

  “What’s that matter, darling?”

  Melissa countered with another question. “Why do you think something’s wrong?”

  Ilona shrugged first one shoulder and then the other. “Am I a lamb born today? This man is fighting a war with himself, and he’s strong enough to win it. He wants you, but something’s dragging him back. Pull out the stops, Melissa, and don’t give him a chance to breathe without thinking of you first. What a man! Hmm. If I had to choose between him and Cooper, I’d probably lose my mind.” She lit a cigarette. “My one vice since I gave up rummy, darling. As far as Adam’s concerned, you belong to him. Well, that’s something. Cooper’s only hoping.”

  “What are you talking about?” Melissa had headed for the kitchen to start supper and beckoned Ilona to follow her. Ilona tried without success to blow a smoke ring.

  “Don’t make me spell it out. I saw you with Adam, darling. You’ve made each other happy. Very happy. Keep it up.” She sat down and crossed her knees. “I’m not going to offer to cook—it’s not my style. But if you want to eat out, I’ll pay. Cooking is for servants. I don’t know why you do it.” She sipped the hot espresso. “I see you remember I like it in a little glass. Listen darling, all fun aside. You love Adam, and he thinks an awful lot of you, but he’s a man who can put you behind him. You know what he needs, so give him plenty of it. Don’t let anything or anybody get between you, because you won’t find another like him.”

  Chapter 12

  Adam drove home for lunch with Jason Court. He’d invited Jason to stay with him in Beaver Ridge, rather than at a hotel in Frederick, reasoning that if he was seen with a stranger of Jason’s description—big, tough, jaded, and possibly a crime buster—the criminal or criminals might be alerted to the ring tightening around them. His intention had been to have his assistant bring him up to date on affairs at his New York office, but he remembered that Jason had been a police detective until he’d quit after having been wounded. He told Jason about the problems at the leather factory.

  “I suppose you’ve planted one or two specialists there whom you can trust.”

  “Yeah. But they’re poor detectives—these incidents take place all around them.”

  Jason interlocked his long brown fingers and leaned back in his straight chair. “Adam, this thing could involve people in more than one state. Maybe you should contact the FBI.”

  “I’ve thought of that, and I’ve postponed doing it, but if nothing else, the Feds could give me some advice.” A smile creased Adam’s face when his mother walked in the dining room with a huge chocolate bombe, his favorite dessert, and a pot of coffee.

  “You’re a lucky man, Adam, getting this kind of home cooking,” Jason said. He smiled at Adam’s mother. “I wonder how you knew I’m a chocaholic.”

  “Chocolate is usually the safest dessert to offer men, if you don’t know what they like,” she replied in a softer than usual voice. Adam glanced sharply at her. He’d lived for almost th
irty-five years and hadn’t guessed that his mother was what he thought of as a man’s woman. His fifty-four-year-old mother bloomed in a soft, womanly response to Jason’s compliment. He scrutinized the man who sat across from him, lustily enjoying the delicious dessert, a man who commanded respect as much for his masculinity as for his abilities. He recognized a similarity with his father and smiled to himself.

  * * *

  Melissa walked to her office door with Magnus Cooper, told him goodbye, and prayed that Adam wouldn’t meet him in the hallway as he left. She liked and respected the genteel Texan and appreciated his business. He had divined her interest in another man and hadn’t been surprised to learn the man’s identity.

  “From what I’ve seen and heard, you’ve chosen well,” he’d said, removing himself from the picture with consummate grace.

  She checked her calendar for the day, hoping to have the afternoon free so that she could show Ilona the town of Frederick and the little picturesque villages nearby. Friday had always been one of her busiest days, and this one was shaping up similarly. She punched the intercom and dictated a short letter to a woman in Atlanta who needed a florist to baby-sit her nursery while she took a long-anticipated tour around the world. Melissa declined the job on the grounds that she couldn’t be responsible for damage or loss that the nursery might sustain in the owner’s absence.

  She’d asked her secretary not to disturb her, but she accepted Adam’s call. “Hi.”

  “Hi.” Pleasure enveloped her at the sound of his deep velvet voice. “Have I seen the last of Cooper?” Melissa couldn’t resist a chuckle.

  “Search me. Your sight seems to pierce walls and dart around corners. I wouldn’t be surprised if you did see him. Making any progress?” She must have asked the wrong question, because his silence seemed almost palpable. “Are you there, Adam?”

  “I’m here. I haven’t made any moves. What is Ilona doing to entertain herself while you’re at work?”

  Adam didn’t invite a person to butt out—he merely changed the subject. “You never see a need for subtlety, do you?” she asked, a tinge of testiness in her voice. But with his self-confidence, she thought, he didn’t have to resort to that. He ignored her taunt, and she thought it just as well.

  “Like any vacationing New Yorker worth the name, Ilona is probably sound asleep,” she told him. “She asked me to set the coffeepot for eleven thirty, and I did.” She waited, wanting him to tell her why he’d called, needing his admittance that he just wanted to talk to her.

  “I was in a rush when I left you last night, but like I said, I had to get to the airport. I could have done a better job of telling you good night.”

  She settled into her chair and felt her lips curl into a slow smile. “It isn’t too late. Want to make up for it right now?”

  His laugh warmed her. “Seeing through walls is nothing compared to what you’re asking me to do now.”

  “Do you know something I don’t? Why should making up for last night be such a chore? Especially for you?”

  “You pick the damnedest times to toy with me, always making sure you’re out of sight. The manner in which I should have preferred to tell you good night cannot be executed through these telephone wires,” he said in exaggerated Oxford English and with a hint of belligerence. She didn’t try to suppress her delight nor the wickedness with which she communicated it to him.

  “Oh, you’re up to the task,” she teased. “I can’t imagine there’s anything you’d want to do that you can’t manage. Don’t let a couple of telephone wires deter you. ‘A man’s reach should exceed his grasp. Or what’s a heaven for?’” she quoted from Browning. She couldn’t figure out whether her deviltry excited him or annoyed him. All she had to go on was his cryptic reply.

  “If heaven is in a receptive mood, the telephone wires be damned. I can burn up the distance between us in no time. Say the word.”

  “Oh, dear, did I say something wrong?” She put her hand over the mouthpiece. If he heard her snicker, he’d be there in short order, and she wouldn’t bet on what he’d do.

  “Never pull a tiger by his tail, baby. I’ll see you tonight.”

  “What? I have to entertain Ilona. I may not be home.”

  “Oh, yes, you will—and nothing would delight your friend more than to watch you take your medicine.”

  “Adam!”

  “See you at seven, babe.” He hung up.

  She hugged herself and swirled her chair around in delight as her heart raced in anticipation of the evening. Whatever medicine he’d planned for her, she couldn’t wait to taste it. Her euphoria evaporated when Emily appeared in the doorway, her face the picture of anger and determination.

  “Your father backed a truck up to the house and took out everything he’d put there. He must have kept a list. You know, it struck me as strange that he’d do that when he didn’t seem to want to leave. If Schyler was here, he could talk to him. Go see if he’s alright. I have to make some plans, and I can’t do that if he’s having a breakdown.”

  “Okay. Do you think he’s home?” Melissa’s deep sigh bespoke her reluctance to speak with the man as daughter to father, but she promised her mother that she would. “Come on. I’ll drop you off at home.”

  * * *

  Rafer Grant did not welcome his daughter’s interference. “You know why I moved out. Your mother has sold out and gone over to them. Both of you have, and I’m not going to hang around and watch you throw yourselves at my enemies.”

  “I just came to see if you’re alright, Daddy.”

  “Of course I’m alright. Are you sure you didn’t come here to protect Adam Roundtree?” He gritted his teeth apparently in disgust at having to mention the name.

  A surge of anxiety washed through her. “What do you mean? Protect him from what?”

  His smile was that of a man who held the trump cards. “He has alienated my wife, causing an irreparable breach between us and, even if you get on your knees and beg, I’m still going to sue him for that.”

  “Daddy, that’s ridiculous. Mama told me that the two of you have lived separate lives for twenty-five years. Adam didn’t alienate Mama, and he didn’t shoot Timmy.” She regretted the words when he stammered and sputtered, unable to articulate his rage. She’d only fueled his passion for revenge.

  “I warn you,” he finally managed to say. “If you betray your family, you’ll regret it. You’ll lose your clients, and Adam Roundtree won’t be so anxious for you when he learns that you instigated the sabotage of his leather industry.” She couldn’t contain her loud gasp. How did he know about the problems at Leather and Hides?

  * * *

  She left her father and walked down the hall to his lawyer’s office. “My cousin doesn’t have a case against Adam,” she told the man. “On the night of the shooting I was with Adam from around seven until midnight, and I’m prepared to give public testimony to that effect. And it was I and not Adam who urged Mama to begin volunteer work.”

  “Why did she choose The Refuge? Plenty of places around here need volunteers.”

  “Mama had never associated The Refuge with Adam or his family. I didn’t even know Adam had any connection with it until after Mama went there.”

  “You’d go against your father?”

  “I will if he goes ahead with this attempt to embarrass my mother.”

  “You’re pretty resolute about this.”

  She hesitated to say more, but she didn’t want the lawyer to doubt her. “Yes, I am, and I won’t omit the damage he’s done to her psyche. He has treated her as though she were incompetent, deprived her of self-confidence. She can’t drive a car, has never been allowed to go anywhere without him except the hairdresser, and he has insisted on choosing her clothes. Yes, I’ll tell it!”

  “I find this hard to digest.” The man walked over to the window and looked down toward the street.

  “He robbed me, too. All these years I thought my mother preferred my brother to me, that she didn’t love m
e, but she was only trying to please my father. I was no better—I begged for his approval and didn’t try to understand my mother. He manipulated both of us.”

  “I’m surprised.”

  She shrugged. “He probably isn’t aware that he’s done these things or, at least, of their effect.”

  “Rafer said you’d witness for him.”

  “Tell me—do I look as if I might do that?” Her face must have mirrored her sadness, because he shook his head in sympathy.

  “I’d say, not.”

  She walked to the door and turned. “And you’d be right. Goodbye.”

  * * *

  Melissa laid back her shoulders, plastered a smiled on her face, and unlocked her door. She found a well-rested Ilona fresh from her scented bath doing her nails to the tune of Jimmy Lunceford’s “Uptown Blues.”

  “I love your records, darling. Who’d believe that blues could be so sexy? I always thought they were supposed to be depressing. You know, somebody crying about losing their lover. That’s the only thing worse than death that I can think of.”

  Melissa laughed and hugged her friend. One couldn’t remain dejected around Ilona—she didn’t allow it. “Adam will be over at seven.”

  Ilona beamed. “Want me to take in a movie?”

  Melissa cast a dark glance in Ilona’s direction and started up the stairs. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m wearing an avocado green silk sheath an inch above the knee. Can you handle that?”

  “Of course, darling. Mine’s red, four inches above, but don’t worry—I don’t have your height or your legs.”

  * * *

  Adam arrived at Melissa’s home promptly at seven. He’d brought Wayne along as company for Ilona, and they’d dressed in dark business suits.

  “What’s she like?” Wayne had asked about Ilona.