Chapter Eighteen. When Stef got back to the hotel she found Agnes examining the legal documents, looking for loopholes

When Stef got back to the hotel she found Agnes examining the legal documents, looking for loopholes. “They’re saying that selling the hotel to you at below market rates proves incompetence. It’s evidence of Mrs. Holloway’s inability to properly manage the trust and could place other assets of the trust in jeopardy.”

“What a load of garbage.” Stef took a seat across from Agnes. “That woman was so smart and astute. She was delighted that we were buying the hotel. Thrilled to see it come back to its former glory.”

For a moment the only sound was Agnes’s pen scratching on the pad of paper. She must have realized there was a void because she looked up. “Stefanie? Are you okay? Can I get you some aspirin or something?”

Jerked awake, Stef said, “What? Oh, must have dozed off there. Now, where were we?” She made a mental note to try to stay away from Laurel’s exquisite body long enough to remain awake during the day.

Agnes closed her notebook. “I’ll talk to the attorney and see if there’s something else she needs. Are you sure she’s qualified to argue this case? She looks young.”

Stef had never seen Agnes so forceful. She thought maybe this was a glimpse of what she’d be like as a lawyer, if she ever got that far. “She’s the best we could do, given that all the big-time attorneys seem to be busy. That’s odd, too. George and Boynton aren’t big fish. But they seem to be wielding a lot of power.”

Without looking up, Agnes said, “The power is probably from the other investors. Trip would almost kiss their feet when they arrived for a meeting.”

“Could you get me a list of those investors?”

“Sure. I had to prepare minutes and agendas for the board meetings, and sometimes I worked from home when I had to take care of Mom. I think I still have the list. They’d croak if they knew. It’s supposed to be confidential, but none of them would deign to type out anything or be a lowly secretary.” Agnes was smiling slyly and then gave Stef a hard look. “Okay, meeting’s over. I’ll find the list and get it to you. You look tired. Go to bed early tonight.”

“Agnes, we still need to—”

“Can you tell me two things I’ve said to you in the past ten minutes?”

“What was the question?” Stef squeaked.

“I rest my case. It will take a day to get the information, then we can talk.”

“Okay, okay. But one thing: Why do you call Boynton by the name Trip? Is that a real first name or a nickname?”

“I’m not sure.” Agnes angled her head as though wracking her brains. “I don’t know if I ever saw a document with his full name on it. Everything was always made out under the company name.”

“Something else.” Stef came back to Boynton’s sloppy approach to paperwork. “The second mortgage broker didn’t even request a note from the first. That seems like an amazing amount of stupidity, including my own.”

“I brought that to Trip’s attention and he said it wasn’t necessary.” Agnes had that guilty expression again. “I asked twice and he told me it wasn’t my concern. So I stopped asking. That was another reason I quit, the whole thing felt slimy to me.”

“Anything associated with my brother George is slimy.”

Agnes studied her a moment, then snapped her fingers. “I did see his name once. He’s Clayton Boynton Holloway the Third.”

“Seraphina’s son?” Stef could hardly take it in. Now she knew she wasn’t being paranoid. George and Boynton weren’t just greedy opportunists trying to swindle her, there really was some kind of conspiracy, and if she didn’t come up with a plan soon, she wouldn’t be the only woman facing a total loss.

Laurel circled the block a few times, trying to screw up enough courage to enter the house she and Rochelle had shared for three years. Rochelle’s car wasn’t there, but Laurel found herself seriously considering returning to San Francisco and asking Jock to accompany her. Then she scoffed at her own cowardice. As it was, she was skulking in and sneaking her stuff out; the least she could do was manage that on her own.

She wanted to be gone from this house, this life. Whatever future she might have with Stef, she wanted it to be as clean as possible. She needed to hurry, to get back to Stef so she wouldn’t worry.

She had enough to think about with the stress of getting the hotel completed. Laurel wanted to nurture her and support her. This was a new world of emotion and she wanted to absorb all the feelings and enjoy them. Ending Rochelle’s influence once and for all was a big part of that process.

She used her key to open the door and called to see if Rochelle was there. She never got home after work this early. When she met only silence, she entered and took a moment to look around, doing a quick inventory of items that were hers. Other than clothes and office records, there was surprisingly little of Laurel in the house. A few pots and pans, but she didn’t care about them.

She began clearing the closets of her clothes and loading her car. She carted boxes of books and records, student and personal papers. There was one antique oak filing cabinet that she loved and had purchased years before meeting Rochelle, but she couldn’t lift it and had no room in her car. She’d been in the house for about an hour and was starting to get nervous to be gone.

Giving the place one more look, she removed the key from her ring to leave on the table in the hall. She was just about free.

“Hello, Laurel.” Rochelle stood in the kitchen doorway, having come in through the back door.

Laurel’s heart rate skyrocketed. She quickly looked for signs of drunkenness but found none of the usual swaying or slightly unfocused eyes. She didn’t know if that was good or bad. Rochelle was absolutely unpredictable when she was sober. Drunk, she was uniformly nasty. Laurel decided not to wait to see which way this would be played. It was her job to say the truth and be the woman Stef thought she was.

Hoping her voice wouldn’t betray her fear, she said, “Hello, Rochelle. I came by to get my things. I’ve left the key.”

“So, that’s it? You’re just throwing everything we have away?”

“Anything we had has been gone for a long time and you know it. If you were so in love with me, why have all those affairs?”

Rochelle’s eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed. “They meant nothing, you know that.” Her voice was flat, uninflected.

“They meant you had no respect for me, or for us. They meant you thought of no one but yourself.” Laurel knew her voice was shaking, but she said the words. That counted for something.

“You’re out of your mind leaving me for that hotel bitch. She’s using you. Probably has a dozen pathetic losers like you hanging on her every word. She has no class.”

“If I’m so pathetic, why do you still want me around?” Warning sirens were going off in each lobe of her brain, but Laurel ignored them. She’d remained silent far too often. “No, it isn’t that you want me or love me, it’s that you don’t want her to have me. Guess what? No one has me. Especially you.”

Sneering, Rochelle took a step to a kitchen drawer and pulled out a small filleting knife. Laurel was so astonished, she stood stock-still. This had to be a joke.

“Put the knife down,” she said calmly. “There are some things you can’t control with bullying, and this is one of them.”

Ignoring her, Rochelle taunted. “Do you really think that woman cares for you? You believed me, and I was lying through my teeth.” She laughed when she realized she’d landed an emotional punch to Laurel’s midsection. Taking a few steps toward Laurel, she said, “We aren’t through until I say we’re though.”

Laurel knew she should be afraid, but her anger overrode her instinct to flee. “You are welcome to say whatever you wish to your toadies, Rochelle. But it’s over. Nothing you threaten me with can change that.”

Rochelle stopped, her eyes like stone. “You can’t leave.” Her grip on the knife tightened and Laurel balanced her weight, getting ready to dodge and run.

The door burst open, and Stef lurched inside. “Hey, get away from her! Laurel, are you okay?”

Rochelle yelled, “Tell her to leave.” The knife had disappeared behind her back.

Stef was immediately by Laurel’s side. Laurel looked from one to the other. Her past and her future.

Stef focused on Rochelle and got in her face. “Did you hurt her? I’ll kick your ass.”

At that moment Jock and Denny tumbled through the door, looking like they were ready for action.

“Hello, girls. You’re just in time.” Laurel was starting to enjoy this. She had a posse.

Rochelle’s expression was changing moment by moment. “Who are you? Get out of my house.”

Jock held out her hand and said, “I’m Jock Reynolds, and you?”

Rochelle automatically brought her hand forward and the knife clattered to the floor. She wouldn’t meet Jock’s hard stare. Jock kicked the knife in the direction of the kitchen.

Checking the room, Denny asked, “Anything else you want?”

Laurel reminded herself that she was entitled to take her possessions. “That oak file cabinet. Do you have room for it?”

The two women toted the cabinet out to Jock’s truck. When they came back, Jock and Denny stood by the door, arms folded across their chests, looking larger and taller than Laurel could ever remember. She caught a glimpse of Ember, wearing a sweatshirt with the hood pulled over her head, waiting outside.

Rochelle hadn’t moved from her spot. “Please leave.”

They looked to Laurel for direction and she nodded. Denny said, “After you, Laurel. If you’ll take Stef with you, our helper can drive her car.”

It dawned on Laurel that they were being careful to not identify Ember. Good move.

It took three hours to drive back and unload the truck, then celebrate with pizza and beer. They stored Laurel’s clothes in Stef’s room, and the rest of her records and furniture in the project room. By the time they bade the last woman good night and tumbled into bed, they were exhausted but exhilarated by the events of the day.

They reached for each other to make sweet love for a time, each bringing the other to a thundering climax, and then were content to gently hold and touch. Stef was astounded at how quickly Laurel had become the most important person in the world to her. It all felt so right.

“Stef, what do you think will happen to the hotel?” Laurel murmured, resting her head on Stef’s shoulder.

Stroking Laurel’s soft blond hair, Stef said, “Well, assuming we figure a way out of this mess we’re currently facing, I want it to be astoundingly successful. Beyond our wildest dreams. What do you think will happen to your research project?”

Laurel hugged her tightly. “I don’t know just yet. But I think this hotel could become a destination for women of influence from all over the world. I have a feeling that if we can get Seraphina Holloway out of that institution, she and Irina could provide all the structure we needed to construct a fairly accurate version of the Elysium Society again. Only, with technology, it could be a worldwide effort.”

Burying her nose in her lover’s hair, Stef snorted, “Is that all? Well, I guess we’d better come up with a plan to get the hotel up and running.”

“Does it have to be legal?”

Staring into the dark, Stef whispered, “As much as possible.”

Дата добавления: 2015-10-30