Undo Part 50

"Greta," Matthew snapped, "close that door!"

"Oh, relax, Matthew. This will only take a minute. However," she said, seating herself in the pit across from them, "I'm not leaving until I see this live one swim through a hoop and catch a chunk of that bait in the air."

Matthew glared at his wife as she opened her purse and withdrew the pink bank form.

"This is Laurence Maupin," Matthew said, attempting to explain himself. "She's my public relations a.s.sistant."

Ignoring the girl's flawless extended hand, Greta slid aside the tray and dropped the form on the table before Matthew. She made sure to use her left hand.

The door slid open and the hostess poked her head in. "Would you like a menu?" she asked graciously.

"Go away," Greta snapped. The door slid closed.

"We were just going over some notes," Matthew said, still indulging in his farce. "For a speech I'll be giving in a few weeks."

"Is that so?" Greta said. "And where will you be speaking, Matthew, Sea World?

More composed now, Laurence eyed her tormentor with plain contempt. "This is not what you think, Mrs. Locke," she said.

"b.u.t.t out. This business is between my husband and I." She flicked the form into Matthew's lap, then slapped a gold pen down on the table. "Sign it."

"Greta! This is for a quarter-million dollars," he said, his voice disbelieving. "What the h.e.l.l are you doing?"

She gave her husband an impatient look. "Matthew, either you shut up and sign that, or I walk out there and announce your fishy little affair with Flipper here."

He considered this, looked down at the form. "I hope you know what you're doing," he said, and picked up the pen.

"What the h.e.l.l is so funny?" Greta asked, noticing Laurence's apparently merry expression as she watched Matthew's hand squiggling across the form. For the briefest instant, Laurence's smile intensified when she met Greta's eyes. At this stare-down, Greta lost.

Matthew shoved the pen and the transfer doc.u.ment across the table, then crossed his arms and stared down at the ruined lunch like an angry child.

Greta collected the form and folded it neatly, a triumphant smile on her face. Matthew shook his head in disgust as the slip disappeared into her purse with a snap. His anger was complete.

At this point he was only thankful she was leaving immediately, without causing him any further embarra.s.sment.

"I'm so sorry I can't stay to see the rest of the show - " Greta started, calmly.

Or so he thought.

"I'll especially hate missing the part where you balance his b.a.l.l.s on your nose."

Matthew lunged for her, but she escaped his grasp with a t.i.tter and left the room, not bothering to close the door. She swept past the mute diners, her victory plain for everyone to see. She even paused at the door for a moment to take a few mints at the hostess desk.

But when she pressed through the doors, leaving her stunned audience behind, she felt strangely unmasked in the bright sunlight. Something inside her shifted, and her elation quickly drained.

She was overcome by a sudden panic. And then it hit her. Was this her last hurrah? Would that young girl take over her reign as Mrs. Matthew Locke? she wondered covetously.

She pressed her fist to her mouth and forced herself to concentrate on her task at hand. She had to get to the bank with the signed transfer. Then she would feel better. Yes, she told herself, catching Matthew with his little tart would strengthen her decision, would rea.s.sure her. She couldn't wait to tell Jean-Pierre she had caught him, red-handed.

But this small euphoria was as short-lived as the last. As she raced up the highway, a disturbing realization mocked her, prodding obscenely at her sensibility. That all this time, contrary to her reasoning, Matthew had had the capacity to love more than Wallaby, and he had chosen to share it not with her, but with another woman.

Chapter 19

"Then we have a tentative agreement," William said with plain satisfaction in his voice. Isle lay slanted across his knees, her tiny hand now and then batting his tie.

Peter and Byron, seated on a sofa, both nodded in agreement.

"Wonderful," William said. "You hear that, young lady? Your name is going to be famous!" As if on cue the baby yawned, and everyone laughed.

"Speaking of tired, you men must be working yourselves to the bone with all the progress you've made," William said, handling Isle to Peter. "When do you expect to have a final design?"

Byron considered for a moment. "The hardware design is nearly complete. We've got a lot of software work to do. Six months?"

Byron ventured, turning to Peter.

"If you say so, chief," Peter said. "We'll need some engineers, administrative support, that kind of stuff."

William a.s.sured the men that he would get them whatever they needed to see their project through to completion as quickly as possible.

Peter was nearly satisfied, but there was one last thing he wanted to clarify. "What about the strategic alliance?"

"That stays, for now." William said, then: "But when the ISLE system is ready for production, we'll be less dependent on Wallaby. There's an important difference between what we've got with Wallaby, and what we are proposing for ISLE. With this, ICP will have invested hard cash in your baby. So don't worry, we'll see to it that she's a success."

"Then we're on," Byron said.

William beamed. "Excellent," he said. He checked his watch. "I'd better get moving if I'm going to catch my plane." The trio walked to the door together. They shook hands, and William departed.

"You see, Petey," Byron said after closing the door, "the big guys aren't all so bad after all, eh?"

"I like him," Peter admitted.

"Man, we've sure got our work cut out for us. I just hope we don't have any setbacks."

"How did it go?" Grace asked.

Byron kissed her on the cheek. "Like a charm."

"Congratulations," she said. "Peter, this man called while you guys were out in the yard." She traded a Post-it note for Isle.

There was a name written on it that Peter did not recognize, and a phone number. "Thanks. I'll call him later. Let's go tell the guys the good news."

"Did Greta find you?" Eileen asked, rising from her chair as Matthew returned from lunch.

"She found me, all right," Matthew said, winded, rushing past her and into his office. He gathered his pen and notepad and hurried to the boardroom. There was only a minute to spare before the meeting began.

The entire Wallaby executive staff was seated around the table.