The Deal

by Holly Hart

  “Well, they have been spending a lot of time together working on bringing your company into the fold,” Chance says.

  I grin. “The feckless flake and the button-down business nerd.”

  “Stranger things have happened. We’re living proof.”

  “Amen to that,” I say, laying my head on his shoulder.

  Agnes appears at the table with a half-full bottle of champagne. Judging by her grin, she’s feeling no pain.

  “Aggie!” I say brightly. “Having fun?”

  “A riot!” she giggles, taking a seat beside us. “We really needed this after all that nonsense with Quentin Pearce.”

  “That we did,” says Chance. “Time to move on to the next chapter for the company.”

  Agnes leans in and pats the back of my hand.

  “We’re thrilled to have you on board with Atlas,” she says, her eyes misty. “And so happy that Chance found you. I sometimes wondered if we’d ever see the day when he found the one who made him whole.”

  She turns to Chance. “And you, you big lug. Patrick would be so proud of you right now. He’s here with us right now, I can feel him.”

  Her tears are flowing freely now; I’m fighting my own, too.

  “I never doubted you, Chance,” Agnes says. “I told Quentin Pearce that I didn’t believe him. That you were as much a member of the Sullivan family as any of us. I just wish he’d never stepped foot into the Atlas boardroom.”

  Chance smiles and shakes his head.

  “Actually,” he says, “I owe him a debt I can never repay.”

  Her eyes widen. “You’re joking. What could you possibly owe to that little cretin?”

  He looks at me, and in that look I see the boy inside the man. The hero’s heart that captured me all those years ago. This brave, smart, incredible man who risked everything for love and won. My heart has never felt so full as it does right now.

  “I wouldn’t have this lady back if it wasn’t for him,” he says. “And to me, that’s everything.”

  “Hey!” says a voice from my right. I turn to see Mrs. C sitting down next to me. “No crying without me! What are we crying about, anyway?”

  “Life,” I say, kissing her cheek.

  “That’ll do it every time,” she says with a chuckle.

  “I wonder if everyone is still there.”

  Chance glances at his watch. “Probably. Chuck from next door sort of gave the party a second wind when he and Kathy showed up.”

  I can’t help but giggle. “It’s hilarious that he thanked you for stealing the car.”

  “Don’t tell his wife that. It was her car.”

  He finally strips his tie off with a theatrical flourish.

  “Free at last from the hangman’s noose,” he says, wasting no time stripping off his shirt as well.

  His naked, rippling torso suddenly makes me feel seriously overdressed.

  I raise my leg onto the bed. The hem of my dress falls to one side, giving him a glimpse of what’s underneath.

  “You already have my garter,” I purr. “How about the rest?”

  My heart skips a beat as he grins like a wolf and drops beside me on the bed. His hands are instantly behind my back, drawing my zipper down. As the shoulders drop, he grasps the wrists of both sleeves in his fingers and pulls.

  He kisses each bare breast as they pop free of the falling dress, sending a thrill straight to the junction of my thighs. He strips off the rest of the dress with an unceremonious tug, leaving me naked except for my stockings and panties.

  “Two can play at that game,” I say, grabbing his belt and yanking it down, along with his pants.

  He’s already rock hard under his boxers, igniting my fire even more. His eyes beg me to finish the job, so I pull them down and free his throbbing cock.

  As I do, I hear the old bed groan underneath our weight. Suddenly I feel even more heat between my legs. What is it about this place that just gets my motor revving so hard I can barely stand it?

  Chance pulls back the electric blue coverlet and lies down, his throbbing shaft standing at full attention, waiting for me.

  “This may be the Rest-All,” he says with a grin. “But you’re not getting any rest tonight, Mrs. Talbot.”

  I glide down on top of him, keeping my stockings on, until my slick opening is aligned with the tip of his rod. My body trembles as I guide him all the way in.

  “Neither are the neighbors,” I sigh.

  Later, when I’m a puddle of jelly after countless orgasms, I lie in Chance’s arms on the old bed, listening to the whine and clank of the decrepit air conditioner. I suppose the sound would be annoying to pretty much everyone else, but to me it’s the soundtrack to our crazy, passion-filled days on the run. Before the bad stuff started.

  I choose to remember just the good stuff. The excitement, and the love, and how good it felt just to be together, whether in the rec center storeroom or a tiki hut in Bora Bora or the Rest-All Motel.

  The shadows of the past are just that: shadows. Yes, they’re dark, but they’re illusions. There’s nothing to them.

  They can’t hurt us.

  “Mrs. Talbot,” Chance says sleepily.

  “That’s my name, don’t wear it out. Seriously. Every other part of me is worn out; my name is all I have left.”

  His chuckles are like music to me in the dark.

  “I’m never going to let you go again,” he whispers sleepily. “You know that, don’t you?”

  I snuggle in closer. “I know.”

  “Good.”

  As I fade into sleep, I see my mother’s face in my mind’s eye.

  She’s smiling. Finally.

  177

  EPILOGUE: SARA

  “Elafins!”

  Ava manages to see the herd from her perch on top of the bus before I do. She has her daddy’s pilot eyes.

  “That’s right, sweetie. And what does the elephant say?”

  She hangs a chubby arm from her face like a trunk and makes a trumpeting sound that’s utterly exceptional for an almost-three-year-old, if I do say so myself.

  Rambeau, our guide, points toward the herd.

  “Look close,” he says. “See? A baby!”

  Ava’s face lights up as she sees it bumbling alongside its mother.

  “Baby!” she wails. “Mommy, a baby!”

  Chance picks her up and holds her over his head so she can get a better view. The elephants are pretty much all there is to look at in this particular part of the park. There are a few trees and a watering hole, but for the most part it’s scrub and brown dust as far as the eye can see.

  “Make sure you tell Uncle Tre when we get back,” Chance says. “He and Auntie Grace are going to wish they’d come with us.”

  I imagine they had more pressing things to do, considering it’s been less than twenty-four hours since Tre popped the question. He thought the Nairobi sunset would be the perfect backdrop. I could have told him that Grace would have said yes if he’d put a Lifesaver on her finger in a bus station, but why ruin his fun?

  Chance’s satellite phone begins to warble on his hip. He glances at me with raised brows – sat phone almost always means work.

  “Talbot,” he says, extending the antenna.

  Ava’s eyes widen. “Gamma Bess? Daddy, I talk Gamma Bess?”

  I pick her up and plop her down on my knee.

  “Honey, Grandma Bess is sleeping, remember? It’s nighttime back home.”

  “Night time?”

  “All right, call Blake at the State Department. I need an AW101 ready to go as soon as possible. They should have at least two on standby at Moi Air Base.”

  I see the look in his eyes and sigh. Safari is over for now, at least.

  Chance kneels on the floor of the rooftop viewing area and plants a kiss on Ava’s cheek.

  “Sorry, honey, we’re going to have to say bye to the elephants. Mommy and I have to go to work.”

  She nods. Not even three yet and she’s already used t
o us dropping her with Grace and taking off. Sometimes I wonder if this is really the ideal life I picture a few years ago.

  Chance talks to Rambeau, who radios the driver. In less than a minute, we’re on our way back to the resort where Tre and Grace are holding down the fort.

  “What is it this time?” I ask as I strap Ava into her seat. “Something local, obviously. Or southern Europe? Please don’t say Middle East.”

  He shakes his head. “Northeast Tanzania. Localized earthquake just south of the border with Kenya.”

  “How much good can we do with a transport chopper?” I ask.

  “That’s just it – the quake is centered in a sparsely populated area. But it’s left a girls’ school collapsed and cut off by a chasm that opened up a few hundred yards away. They need a copter to get in and get them out ASAP.”

  “Why can’t the Tanzanians take care of it themselves?”

  Chance leans close to me so that Ava can’t hear.

  “It’s an all-girls school. In rural Tanzania.”

  Translation: they’re not a priority. I nod my understanding.

  “Goin’ to school?” Ava asks.

  “That’s right,” I say brightly. “Daddy and I are going to see some girls and say hello.”

  I just hope we can get there in time.

  Chance points to Mt. Longido in the distance.

  “It’s beautiful,” I shout into the microphone.

  The Leonardo AW101 is a huge helicopter, capable of transporting at least twenty-five people. But it’s incredibly loud and handles like a hippo on roller skates, judging by how Chance is handling it. But it’s the perfect tool for the job, and the Kenyan government was nice enough to loan it to us after some cajoling by a few State Department diplomats.

  Below us is the opposite of beautiful – a huge crack that’s opened along the fault line. The school is cut off on that side for miles in either direction. The other side backs onto a series of low forested hills.

  “Why can’t they evacuate there?” I shout, pointing to the hills.

  Chance is quiet for a little too long.

  “Chance?”

  “That might be a problem,” he bellows.

  “Why?”

  “There’ve been reports of rebels in the hills.”

  Oh, that’s just fucking great.

  “Why do I let you get me into this shit?” I yell.

  He grins. “Because you love me?”

  “All I know is it’s a good thing you’re rich.”

  A few minutes later, we’re over the school. The sound of our approach draws a group of girls out of the remains of the collapsed brick buildings into the courtyard. They wave their arms wide, which is a good sign. At least the injuries appear minor.

  Chance brings the bird down like a wounded goose and I slide the panel door open. I jog to where the girls are standing, hollering and crying. I show them the American flag patch on the shoulder of my Atlas flight suit.

  “We speak English!” a girl of about sixteen shouts.

  “Awesome,” I say. “How many of you are there?”

  “Twenty-three,” she says. “Our teacher is hurt, but the rest of us can walk.”

  She leads me into the most intact building and shows me her teacher. The woman, nursing what appears to be a broken arm, is probably only a few years older than her students.

  “We’ve come to get you out of here,” I say. “Can you walk?”

  “I think so.” The others help her to her feet. “Who are you?”

  “I’m with Atlas, ma’am,” I say. It always sparks a thrill of pride.

  “God bless you,” she says as we head for the door.

  Here’s hoping.

  Outside, Chance is herding the girls into the back of the chopper and trying to make them comfortable. He’s kept the rotors running.

  “Last ones,” I say with a nod.

  He nods back and gets the rest of them seated. As the teacher boards, she turns to face me.

  “I cannot thank you enough – ”

  Suddenly her eyes are saucers. I turn to see what she’s looking at.

  Behind us are three young men in camouflage fatigues and red berets, pointing assault rifles in our direction.

  Chance sweeps me behind him, shielding me with his body.

  “Get inside!” he barks.

  “You get inside! I’ll deal with these guys.”

  He goggles at me. “Are you insane? No way!”

  “You’re the only one who can fly this monster! I sure as hell can’t!”

  He shakes his head. “There has to be another way!”

  “Not that I can see!”

  He scowls at me for a full ten seconds before he finally nods.

  “Be careful!” he shouts, locking his eyes on mine. “If you get yourself killed, I will never forgive you!”

  I give him the thumbs-up. “Roger that.”

  We stare at each other for a moment, communicating telepathically. It’s not the first time we’ve faced danger together. Each time could be the last time. It makes us appreciate our time together even more.

  I break eye contact and trot toward the soldiers, who flinch and level their guns.

  “Bring them back!” the one in the center hollers. “Now! No fucking Americans!”

  Now that I’m closer, I can see just how young they are. Probably recent rebel recruits who had nowhere else to go. At least, I hope that’s the case.

  “We’re taking them,” I say. “That’s a fact. If I have to fight you, I will, but those girls are coming with us.”

  The one on the left points his barrel in the air and fires off a dozen automatic rounds. Somehow, I manage not to flinch. I can practically feel Chance having a conniption behind me.

  I look the kid square in the eye.

  “I’m still here,” I say. “Those girls have never done anything to you. They’re trying to make something of themselves at this school. They want to make things better for your country. Can you care for them until help arrives?”

  The three exchange confused glances.

  “Do you have enough food and water for all of them?”

  Still no response. I fix the middle one with a glare that I hope looks motherly. It’s my only hope.

  “What if they were your sisters?” I ask. “What would you do?”

  They stare at me for a long moment. The middle one lowers his gun and barks at the other two to do the same. The one on the left keeps his up for a few more seconds before the middle one shoves the barrel down himself.

  I nod to him. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t come back,” he says.

  “Roger that,” I say and jog toward the helicopter.

  “Are you fucking crazy?!” Grace blurts.

  I cover Ava’s ears, but it’s too late.

  “Fuck,” she says absently, playing with her doll. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

  I glare at my sister before leaning down to my daughter’s ear.

  “That’s a silly word,” I say. “You should forget it. Auntie makes up words sometimes.”

  Grace’s cheeks are rosy with embarrassment and frustration.

  “Mommy’s right, sweetie,” she says. “That’s a silly word. I’ve already forgotten it.”

  “Fuck!” Ava says brightly.

  Tre gives me a sheepish look and plucks Ava out of my lap.

  “How about you come with Uncle Tre and we play a game?” he says.

  She brightens and wraps her arms around his neck. “Yay!”

  Grace composes herself as I watch the two of them go into the adjoining room of our suite. She runs a hand down her face, inadvertently showing off the glittering diamonds embedded in the platinum band on her left third finger.

  “I’m sorry,” she says. “But seriously?! That was incredibly irresponsible.”

  Chance takes a seat beside me and sips his scotch.

  “I felt the same way,” he says. “At first. But Sara made a good point: I had to fly the chopper.”
/>   Grace looks at us like we’ve each grown another head.

  “Yeah, or you could have left them there.”

  “That wasn’t an option,” I say. “You know that as well as I do.”

  She looks at the floor, blood still in her cheeks.

  “Yeah,” she mutters. “I know. But still…”

  “Still nothing. Each of those girls has a future because of Atlas.”

  Chance lays a hand on top of mine.

  “Correction,” he says. “Each of them has a future because of you.”

  Suddenly Grace’s arm is around my neck and she’s hugging me fiercely. When she whispers in my ear, there are tears in her voice.

  “I can’t lose you,” she says. “From now on, don’t tell me when you do stuff like that, okay?”

  “Deal,” I say, wiping away a tear of my own.

  “What’s the all-fired hurry?” I ask as Chance closes the bedroom door behind him.

  Ava is with Tre and Grace at the resort pool, working off their dinner in the blazing late-afternoon heat. I was planning to join them when Chance pulled me in here.

  He turns the deadbolt in the door and draws the curtains closed.

  “What are you doing?”

  Next thing I know his lips are pressing hard against mine, forcing my mouth open to accept his probing tongue. His fingers fumble my bikini top open, releasing my breasts into his waiting hands.

  “Chance,” I gasp, breaking lip contact. “What – ”

  His mouth is back on mine before I can finish. I wrap my arms around his neck as his lips begin to move south, until they land on my throat. My motor has gone from idle to overdrive in the space of five seconds.

  I match his passion, pulling his t-shirt over his head and running my fingers along his chest, tracing the scar tissue there. It’s a ritual I have, to always remind myself of how precious – and fragile – our lives really are.

  His lips find my breasts as his hands work my bikini bottoms off of my ass and send them dropping to the bedroom floor. I return the favor with his cargo shorts as I release his ramrod cock and grab it tightly. It’s hot and throbs at my touch.