concentrate. Jared was once again occupying her thoughts to the exclusion of all else.
She found herself rerunning the little scene outside the Arundel over and over again in her mind, wondering how it might have ended if the taxi hadn’t been there at just the right moment.
But it was, she told herself sternly, so she must avoid dwelling on other possibilities and try to dismiss all thoughts of Jared from her mind.
Only that was easier said than done.
His dark face and the memories it brought flooding back refused to be banished and by four-thirty she had achieved very little in the way of work.
She had just decided to give up and go home when the phone rang and Helen told her, ‘Mr Calhoun’s secretary would like to speak to you. She’s on the other line.’
‘Thanks.’
Fearing the worst, Perdita picked up the receiver and said, ‘Perdita Boyd speaking.’
A woman’s voice, sounding cool and efficient, responded, ‘Miss Boyd, I have a message for you. Unfortunately, Mr Calhoun has been forced to cancel your appointment.’
Knowing only too well how urgently they needed the lifeline Salingers had appeared to be holding out, Perdita’s heart sank like a stone.
Trying to keep her voice level, she asked, ‘Can you tell me the reason?’
‘Mr Calhoun needs to fly to the States tomorrow morning,’ the secretary told her crisply. ‘The only way he can find time to see you is if you can meet him at the airport and talk to him over breakfast.’
Unable to hide her eagerness, Perdita agreed, ‘Yes. Yes, I can do that.’
‘In that case, if you’ll give me your home address I’ll arrange for a car to pick you up at six-thirty tomorrow morning.’
Perdita gave her the address and thanked her before ringing off.
Feeling like a condemned woman who had been granted a last-minute reprieve, she phoned her father to tell him of the change of venue.
Then, having pulled on her jacket, she collected her bag and made her way through to the outer office, where Helen was just preparing to leave.
‘Problems?’ the other woman enquired, her face sympathetic.
‘Just a change of plan, thank the Lord.’
Perdita explained briefly what that change of plan involved, adding, ‘So it could have been worse. I only hope he’s not in too much of a hurry to really listen to me.’
‘Amen to that. Well, if you want to get off, I’ll lock up.’
‘Thanks. See you sometime tomorrow.’
The phone call had temporarily driven thoughts of Jared from the forefront of Perdita’s mind but, as she started to walk home, memories of the past came flooding back in a relentless tide.
She had been born in the States, but her American mother had died soon after and her distraught father had taken her back to England with him.
After she’d left school, in order that she should see something of the country of her birth, her father had taken her over to California for a prolonged visit.
Elmer, who owned a large house near Silicon Valley, had insisted that the pair of them stay there with himself and Martin.
Perdita had been in San Jose for only a matter of days when she and Jared had met at a party. She had fallen in love with him at first sight—love like a deep, fast-flowing river that she had plunged straight into without stopping to ask herself if she might drown.
Right from the start, it had been like sharing a self with him. They had completed each other, filled each other’s lives and hearts. She had thought of them as soulmates.
But in the end that whole concept of closeness, of belonging together, had proved to be just an illusion. A lie.
He was tall, dark and handsome—a hackneyed phrase but a true description—a charismatic man who had always attracted the opposite sex like buddleia attracted butterflies.
But, with eyes only for her, he had never seemed to notice them. Even so, in the early days of their relationship she had had to struggle hard to hide her jealousy when one of them had touched him or smiled at him.
When one day she had admitted as much, he had kissed her and said, ‘There’s no need to be jealous, my love. I’m a one woman man, and you’re that woman. There’ll never be anyone else for me.’
Wanting desperately to believe him, she had almost succeeded, until that awful night in Las Vegas and the nightmare that had followed.
She remembered his tight-lipped silence when her father—who was still recovering from his recent heart attack—had called him a swine and a heartless Casanova, and peremptorily ordered him out of the house in San Jose.
Remembered only too well how Elmer Judson and Martin, both big, heavily built men, had advanced on him threateningly when he had refused to leave without her.
But, even then, Jared hadn’t said what she had dreaded him saying, the one thing that would have shocked her father and stopped the other two men in their tracks.
Perhaps he had expected her to say it.
But she hadn’t.
And a melee had ensued.
Jared was young and fit and more than able to defend himself, she knew, but, with a bruised cheek and a split lip, he had never once hit back.
Even so, it had taken the combined efforts of both Elmer and Martin to throw him out, while she had stood like a statue, tears spilling out of her eyes, and watched, ignoring his repeated pleas of, ‘Come with me, Perdita.’
The final blow had been when her father had reneged on a promise to help finance Dangerfield Software through a crisis.
That last minute failure to honour an agreement that had been previously signed and settled had forced Jared into near bankruptcy.
Even then he hadn’t stopped trying to get her back. After weeks of unanswered letters and phone calls, he had appeared in the Silicon Valley offices of Judson Boyd and asked to speak to her in private.
Still raw and bleeding from his betrayal, and knowing only too well that there was nothing he could say that would alter things, she had shaken her head and asked him to leave.
Standing his ground, he had once again sworn he was innocent and accused her of refusing to listen to him, of lack of trust, of never really loving him.
The latter had brought stinging tears to her eyes. But, fighting against the surge of emotion, and flanked by her father and Martin, she had told him that he was wasting his time, that she never wanted to see him again.
When he would have argued further, he had been ‘escorted’ from the premises.
The
