Part 11 (2/2)
Barely thirty seconds later her phone rang. She drew a shaky breath of relief. She'd been afraid Meredith wouldn't come to her senses. Meredith had never mastered the art of apologizing. Samantha would meet her halfway.
”Meredith, I'm sorry. I know you didn't mean-”
”Sorry,” Hunter's voice cut in. ”Wrong sibling.”
”Oh.” Samantha hurried to regroup. ”What's going on?” She hadn't seen Hunter in more than a week. ”Is everything all right?”
”Of course,” he said heartily. Too heartily. ”I was just wondering if I could come by and speak to you tonight.”
Samantha's antennae quivered. ”About what?”
”Can't a guy just stop by to see his sister without an ulterior motive?”
It was possible that some brothers did this. Hunter wasn't one of them. Hunter Jackson was a weigher of options, a contemplator of angles.
”Of course,” she said. ”I've got a screening in the building tonight. And I'm picking Meredith up at the airport around twelve thirty tomorrow, but other than that I'm pretty open.
”Tomorrow could be too late,” he said curtly. Which pretty much eliminated the possibility that this bore any resemblance to a casual drop-in. ”I'm getting ready to board a flight back from DC and I need to stop off at my apartment when I get in,” he said. ”Can't you just go to whatever you're doing after we talk?”
Samantha's jaw clenched. As always, he expected her to drop whatever she was doing simply because he wanted or needed something. But she'd been looking forward to the Downton Abbey screening and it was clear that whatever he wanted to talk about was not going to put a smile on her face. Still agitated from her argument with Meredith, she wasn't inclined to humor him.
”I'm going to be in the clubroom on the eighth floor,” she said, making up her mind. Maybe if she spoke to him in a public place it wouldn't be as bad as she was starting to fear it would be. ”It's right across from the fitness room on the way to the pool. Just come in and get me.”
”Okay.” His agreement was grudging. She could tell he was surprised that she would put her own plans before his needs. Once again she had to ask herself whose fault was that? Once again her ”self” didn't want to answer.
Just before eight, Samantha took the elevator down to the clubroom, where a definite party atmosphere prevailed. Some of the women had already moved to their chairs and couches. She spotted the tops of Brooke and Claire's heads on the sofa they'd claimed for their own and was pleased to see the seat between them open. Edward shot her a smile when she entered, James handed her a gla.s.s of wine, and Isabella c.o.c.ked her head and said, ”The yooshall, me'lady?”
”Yes, thanks.” She accepted the bag of popcorn and made her way down toward the front of the room.
”Is this seat taken?” she asked when she reached the sofa.
”Only by you,” Claire said with a tap of the cus.h.i.+on. Brooke gave her a shy smile as she settled in between them.
”I see we're back to wine,” Samantha said to Claire. ”I think you scared Edward away from the shandies and back to the straight and narrow.”
”Works for me,” Claire said. ”I'm not planning to let any beer of mine get in the same room as a gla.s.s of lemonade anytime soon.”
Brooke raised an eyebrow and smiled. But the smile was fleeting. Her brow furrowed.
Edward Parker took his place in front of the screen. ”Welcome, ladies,” he said, raising his arms and his voice above the din. Conversations ended and all eyes turned to the concierge. ”I don't think you need any introduction from me tonight, but I do hope you'll stay for a bit afterward. We'll be having apple crumble for 'afters' with a choice of brandies.”
There were murmurs of pleasure as Edward aimed the remote at the DVD player. ”So now without further ado,” he said. ”I bring you episode three.”
The theme music swelled as the concierge stepped out of the way. Downton Abbey appeared on the screen. Samantha gave a mental heave, trying to push Meredith and Hunter from her mind as she and every other person in the room leaned forward, eager and ready to be transported.
KEMAL PAMUK, THE TURKISH DIPLOMAT LADY MARY had been flirting with since they met at the hunt earlier that day, appeared in Mary's bedroom. Was he going to harm her? Was she actually going to flout propriety and . . .
The tap on Samantha's shoulder yanked her out of Lady Mary's bedroom with a gasp. Heads turned her way but only briefly. Even she was having a hard time tearing her eyes from the screen.
”Hey,” Hunter whispered.
It took her a moment to come back to the present. When she did she could see what looked like panic in her brother's eyes. Worry creased his face. ”Hey,” she whispered back even as she girded her loins.
Claire and Brooke tore their gazes from the screen to look at her.
”Be right back,” she said and hoped this would be the case.
Samantha bent down so she wouldn't block anyone's view and led Hunter toward the door. No one paid them any mind. It seemed that Lady Mary was about to have s.e.x with Pamuk. Samantha couldn't believe she was going to miss it.
When Hunter hesitated near the bar, she shook her head and motioned him out into the hall. He hugged her a trifle too hard.
She looked steadily at him, her heart already pounding with dread. ”What's wrong,” she asked. ”Are you ill?”
”I wish.” He said this quietly. A small snort of laughter followed.
Samantha considered her brother, waiting for him to explain. She saw his gaze sharpen. ”Stop it,” she said.
”Stop what?”
”Trying to figure out how to 'handle' me.”
He looked surprised and she realized that she'd never called him on it before.
”Apparently whatever it is is more important than anything I might be doing. So go ahead and tell me now.”
Again, she saw that she'd surprised him. Good. She was tired of always being on the receiving end of unpleasant surprises.
”The nanotechnology deal has gone south. There were some . . . irregularities. It's a little unclear who actually owns the patent. And there are questions about the stock that was issued. I have to pump in another hundred thousand dollars to stave off an SEC investigation into me and my backers.”
She looked at him as his words sank in. ”But Jonathan is one of your backers.” Her head began to pound. ”Does Jonathan know?”
He shook his head and dropped his eyes in the way he had as a child. ”I was hoping you could tell him. And ask him if he could make this one last investment to straighten things out.”
She shook her head. Oh, no.
”It's only a hundred thousand,” he said.
”Did you really just say that?” she asked. ”When did one hundred thousand dollars become an only to you?”
”When you married Jonathan,” he said simply.
She looked at her brother, really looked at him. Hated that he actually thought this was true. That in her attempt to take care of him and Meredith she'd simply gone out and married a lifetime bankroll. Was that what she'd done?
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