Sam realized he had turned to her for a response. “Um, a walk would feel good. Too many hours of sitting already today.”
“Great. That’s the plan then.”
She noticed that he liked to set up everything in advance. What would he say if, at the last minute, she changed her mind?
He nudged her elbow. The driver had already stowed her bag in the trunk, so she slid into the back seat of the long black car. The drive into Manhattan was in bumper-to-bumper traffic, and Bookman filled the time by asking about her flight, telling her about the four different European cities where he’d been since they last saw each other at Kelly’s wedding. She contrasted his conversation to that of Amanda on the plane, realizing the man had a seriously hyperactive style. Whereas she had relaxed in Amanda’s presence, now she felt herself tensing up again.
Everything comes along at the right time. Sam cleared her mind while Bookman talked on, letting herself believe this was her destiny for the moment.
A beautiful little suite at the Carlisle also seemed to be part of her destiny, and Sam walked through the living room, bedroom, and bath while calling Beau to let him know she’d arrived safely. She took in the pastel bedding, shiny brass fixtures, the dainty writing desk in the bedroom, the classic styling of the living room furniture and sumptuous bowl of fruit on the coffee table.
Stan was in a suite one floor up, and since traffic delays caused them to arrive later than planned, he’d said he would meet her in the lobby in fifteen minutes in order to make it on time for the dinner reservation.
Sam sighed. She would love to get into her pajamas and order room service, but the first night in the city didn’t seem to be the ideal time to assert her independence from her host.
As it turned out, the dinner was enjoyable and the wine a very good one. They were joined by the cruise line’s director of marketing and their CEO’s personal assistant—a good-news, bad-news situation. While Sam didn’t especially like being careful of everything she said, fearing she would make a bad impression, it was nice to meet the high-power duo outside the conference room ahead of time.
Still, by the time she reached her hotel suite at ten o’clock, she was exhausted. The others had opted for drinks in the bar, but Sam used her long flight as an excuse to skip it. She had the fleeting thought that it would have been nice to bring the carved box on the trip with her. She could have used a shot of its energy. If that energy still worked.
* * *
Her phone rang the next morning as she was brushing her teeth, and she nearly ignored it. But when she saw Kelly’s name on the readout, she quickly picked up.
“Hey, Mom. You’re in New York?”
“Just got in last night. Meetings start in about an hour.”
“Ooh. I’ll let you go then. We’re heading for London today. It should be fun but we’ll miss Bury a lot. Tell Mr. Bookman we’ve really enjoyed it.”
“I’ll tell him.” They compared schedules and Sam was pleased to know they would all be back in Taos soon. “I’ve missed you, Kel.”
“You okay, Mom? You sound kind of down.”
Sam assured her daughter she was fine, but privately she wondered. Things recently had felt off somehow. The minute she and Kelly ended their call, Sam felt tears rising.
What the hell? I am not a crier. And I’m definitely not meeting my clients with red eyes.
She let out a deep breath and paced the length of the suite twice. She’d better get her act together before going into what would be one of the more important meetings of her business life. She reached into the closet and chose the closest thing to a power suit she owned. The steel-gray pants and jacket brought out the darker tones in her hair, and the blue shirt complemented her eyes and added rosiness to her face. It was feminine but not fussy in any way. She smiled, remembering how Rupert had gone shopping with her and helped choose it.
She fluffed her hair and slipped the jacket on before picking up her purse. “Okay!” she said with a thumbs-up as she faced the mirror near the door. “I am ready!”
Kelly’s voice started to play in her head and Sam shut it out. Later. We’ll talk about the bigger things later.
Then Amanda’s voice came through. Don’t be afraid to say ‘no.’
Good advice, Sam thought, but she decided to remain open to the possibilities the day would bring.
Everything in this city was larger than life, Sam thought, as she sat in the back of the car next to Stan Bookman, watching the crowds on the sidewalks, the tall buildings, the expensive merchandise in the stores they passed. In less than twenty-four hours she already missed the open spaces of New Mexico, the ability to see fifty miles or more in the distance at a glance.
The car pulled to the curb in front of a gray stone building with lots of glass. Stan stepped out and the driver opened Sam’s door for her.
“Ready?” Stan asked. “Just remember, our dual purpose today is to nail down the specifics for these boutique cruises. For you, that means finding out how much chocolate they’ll want, to meet the needs for their various itineraries. Make it doable all the way, Sam.”
“If I can,” she said. “You know I’ll do my utmost. I always have.”
“Yes, you have.” They walked in the wide front doors and headed to a bank of elevators.
“I also have to be realistic. We’re a very small chocolate company. Boutique, if you will, which is, I suppose, the reason they want us for their smaller, intimate cruises. They need to understand our limits, as well.”
He had pressed the button for the forty-third floor, and he turned to look more closely at Sam.
She sent him an enigmatic smile as the doors closed.
World headquarters for Cruceros Privados occupied the entire floor, as far as Sam could tell, and the décor reflected the South American origins of the company. They stepped off the elevator to face a huge reception desk. In the background were dozens of glass-walled offices. The receptionist greeted them with a smile and picked up her intercom phone to announce their arrival.
Within moments a young woman in a form-fitting dress arrived to escort them to a conference room, the scope of which caught Sam’s breath. Her entire house could fit into a couple of these. The long table seated twenty-four, and every chair was occupied except the two reserved for herself and Stan. A blank screen filled the far wall, and she saw a projection setup facing it.
“Was I supposed to have a presentation ready for them?” she whispered to Stan beneath the rustle of two dozen chairs pushing back.
“No, not at all,” he whispered through his smile.
The director of marketing, Arnold somebody, and the CEO’s young assistant, Cindy, whom they’d met at last night’s dinner, stepped forward to greet them warmly and proceeded to introduce them to every other person at the table. Sam made a point only to remember the faces that went with the names on the contract she’d signed. She took a seat between Stan and Cindy, becoming more nervous by the minute.
Arnold, seated across from Sam, reached for the projection machine. Automatic shades closed across the expanse of windows, and the room lights dimmed. “To give you the best feel for what our little cruise line is about, and since a picture is worth a thousand words, may we present … next summer’s cruise itinerary.” With a slight flourish he started the machine.
The video showed a ship, briefly, before switching to scenes with laughing couples, champagne toasts, hot tubs, lounge chairs in the sun, and chefs in tall hats meticulously placing intricate food on plates. A pastry chef appeared to be working on a tiered wedding cake. Happy music flowed along with the mood of each vignette, along with scenery from exotic places interspersed with it all. “Let Cruceros Privados show you the experience of a lifetime!” came the closing pitch.
While potential travelers would be wowed with the whole presentation, Sam had her attention on one thing—the quality of the desserts. As the lights came back up, Arnold turned to her. “As you can see, we feel your very special chocolates would be
a wonderful fit for our themes and our clientele.”
Sam nodded. “It’s very tastefully done. I assume there are none of those all-you-can-eat midnight chocolate soirees?”
Light laughter rose from around the table.
“No, nothing like that.”
“Tell me, how do you envision incorporating my chocolates? As after-dinner treats, or as a menu item, or …” She left the question open.
Cindy spoke up. “Mr. Hidalgo asked me to talk about his vision, since he was unable to be here this morning. One of our feature events aboard ship is High Tea in the afternoons. If I may be quite frank? The dessert chef has come up with cakes and small tarts … but Mr. Hidalgo feels his efforts in chocolate making have been somewhat lacking.”
A few chairs shifted slightly.
“Oh, not that the offerings for High Tea have been lacking. But he feels that adding exquisitely done chocolates will bring the quality of our tea service to a whole new level. When Mr. Bookman sent samples to us, the answer was clear. Sweet’s Handmade Chocolates were the obvious choice. And we are thrilled to have finalized the contract with you, Samantha.”
Arnold was on his feet again. “Of course, we hope renewed popularity in the High Tea event will lead to other features for your work. Your suggestion of placing the chocolates as after-dinner accompaniments was an excellent one, Samantha.”
Had she suggested that? Sam didn’t think so.
“And at a point we may wish to discuss wholesale pricing so as to offer boxes of your chocolates in our gift shops.” As if the idea had just come to him, he brightened. “In fact … what would everyone think of offering boxed chocolates aboard all cruises, even on our larger fleet? Hm? We’d get more people interested, knowing if they took the boutique cruises they would be able to have these wonderful chocolates every day!”
The idea may have been a great marketing ploy, but Sam could see exponential increases in her workload with decreased income at a wholesale price.
“It’s interesting,” she said before the rest of the group could jump in and ratify the idea. “But I do feel we need to take it a step at a time, both from my standpoint as manufacturer and to test it with your passengers, as well. I’d suggest we not go further than your current plan right away. By next season, you’ll have a much better feel for how the idea plays with your guests.”
There were a few wrinkled foreheads and furrowed brows around the table, but Sam stood firm with the couple of men who tried to push for more. Other questions came up and she did her best not to make decisions on the spot. Everything happens at the right time.
By the end of the meeting that afternoon, she was exhausted by the number of people, especially the few whose critical comments served to sap her energy. When Stan suggested dinner that evening with the CFO and his department heads, Sam invented some friends in the city whom she’d promised to see. “Sorry, Stan, they’re people I haven’t seen in ages.”
In truth, she sneaked back to the hotel in a taxi and burrowed into her room, where she pulled out the contract. Over a light dinner and a very strong cup of coffee she went through it, line by line.
Chapter 23
Their time in the UK was coming to an end all too quickly, Kelly thought as she rearranged everything in their luggage. They would be on the train from central London to the airport this morning. Mr. Bookman had promised an escort would meet them at the train and get them to the special area where the private planes flew out.
The wooden box was wrapped in Rupert’s cashmere scarf, and both were stuffed alongside the book Bobul had given her, in the bottom of the leather tote bag she would be carrying herself. On top were the packets of teas packed to gently surround the delicate cakes. She wasn’t certain she would have attempted so many fragile items on an airline, and once again she silently thanked Stan Bookman for the luxury of the flight as a gift.
Her mother’s expression came back to her, the moment when Bookman had offered the trip. Sam hadn’t seemed especially happy about it. But, Kelly reminded herself, she was probably the only person who noticed. Sam was gracious with everyone and would never be rude to her biggest client.
Still—something was going on. Sam’s usual vivacious energy had been lagging lately, enough so that her daughter easily spotted the change. There was something in her voice before the New York meeting. And Kelly’s last contact with Bobul had not reassured her. It was a conversation she and her mom would need to have when they got home and re-acclimated after their travels.
An arm slipped around her waist from behind, and Scott nuzzled her neck.
“Sad to be leaving?” he asked.
“A little.” It was the best explanation to cover her worries.
“What was your favorite part about London?” He stepped in front of her and took both of her hands.
“Wow, we did so much. I loved that city tour on the double-decker red bus, where we got a taste of everything. Walking through Covent Garden and seeing all the stuff people were selling—that was cool.”
“The London Eye—getting to see everything up and down the river from such a height,” he added. It was true. The huge wheel with cars the size of small rooms was amazing.
“The theater. I’d see Phantom of the Opera again tonight if we could. Ooh, and the Tower of London.”
His eyes lit up. “Ah—and the wax museum. How cool was it to stand next to the prince and have our picture taken?”
“And your very favorite … Sherlock Holmes’s house.” She held up the small tea canister she’d bought in the gift shop there. “Can’t wait to get home and try this.”
“I can’t wait to get home and put my notes together. I’m definitely doing some writing this year, just have to narrow it down and decide on the topic.” He couldn’t stop smiling.
“Writing? That’s wonderful, honey. What a great idea. Can you tell me about it yet?” She searched his face for clues, but he was shaking his head.
“I’d better figure it out myself first. Don’t want to lose my momentum.”
She checked the time. “Speaking of momentum, we’d better get ourselves to the train station.”
Chapter 24
The FBI agents followed Beau in their government-issue sedan. He drove out Paseo del Pueblo Norte and turned on the county road leading to his ranch, bypassed the driveway to the house, and continued to the spot where the suspect’s car had parked.
“This is where we believe the sniper’s vantage point was,” Beau said, after they ducked through the barbed wire fencing. He led them to the stand of trees and showed them where the single footprint had been before recent rain had washed the area clear.
Standing at the spot where he believed the shot had come from, the skill of the shooter became evident.
“The victim’s car was parked there, near our front porch. The man was standing beside the car and the bullet caught him in the center of the forehead.”
“Impressive shooting,” Gonzales said.
Draper sent him a look.
“If it was a paper target, at that distance, I’d be hard-pressed to hit it,” he said.
“I know what you mean,” Beau said. “Had to be a high-power weapon with a damned impressive sight.”
“I wish we had some kind of database of snipers for hire, someplace we could go and just pull up a name for you,” Gonzales said. “Unfortunately, we don’t. Most snipers remain low-key and unknown unless we happen to catch them.”
Beau nodded. He’d been afraid of that.
“What about this wooden box?” Draper asked. “The item your wife thinks the killer might be after.”
“Sure. It’s in the house. Want to walk across the pasture or shall we drive back?”
The agents had already headed toward their car. He led the way back to the turnoff to his driveway and pulled up outside the house. The dogs rose to greet the visitors.
“These two always here?” Agent Gonzales asked.
“Yeah, and they’re good at recognizing strange v
ehicles and alerting us. But Sam had been here that morning and since she didn’t have a problem with the visitors, the dogs weren’t skittish at all.”
“What about out there?” Rick pointed toward the far stand of trees.
Beau shook his head. “The county road isn’t exactly high traffic, but enough vehicles pass that way the dogs wouldn’t have raised a fuss. By the time the shooter left his car and came onto my land, it’s likely the dogs were inside with Sam. I can ask her, though. She might remember them barking if they were outdoors. Too bad they don’t speak English and can’t pick someone out of a lineup.”
Both agents chuckled.
“The box is in my safe. Come on in,” Beau said, leading the way.
The house was quiet, with only the ticking of the grandfather clock to fill the great room with sound. He closed the door, leaving the dogs outside, and ushered the two agents in.
“I keep my service pistol in this safe whenever I leave it home. Otherwise, it’s just important papers—the stuff everyone puts in a home safe,” he said as he pushed the coats aside in the closet.
He turned his back and tapped the code onto the keypad, and the door popped open. He extracted the wooden box and carried it to the agents.
“A while back, maybe a year or so, Sam asked if she could stash this in the safe too. Before that, she’d used it as a jewelry box and it usually sat on the counter in our bathroom or on the bedroom dresser upstairs.”
Gonzales handled the box, turning it to look at the sides and bottom, his expression neutral. “Anything inside it now?”
“I have no idea,” Beau said. “Take a look.”
The agent raised the hinged lid, revealing a few pieces of costume jewelry, some thin gold chains, and hoop earrings.
Agent Draper poked a finger through the items. “None of it seems of great value,” she said.
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