him with Dolores Tate, his secretary. Rather than dwell on Kent’s betrayal, Marnie stared at the car ahead of them. Two fluffy Persian cats slept on the back window ledge and a bright red bumper sticker near the back plates asked, Have You Hugged Your Cat Today?
Funny, she thought sarcastically, she hadn’t hugged anyone in a long, long while. And no one had hugged her. At that thought a lump settled in her throat, and she wrapped her arms around herself, determined not to cry. Not today. Not on this, the very first step toward her new life.
Victor switched lanes, jockeying for position as traffic clogged. “While we’re on the subject of Kent—”
“We’re not.”
“He loves you.”
Marnie knew better. “Let’s just leave Kent out of this, okay?”
For once, her father didn’t argue. Rubbing the back of his neck he shook his head, as if he could release some of the tension tightening his shoulder blades. He slid her a sidelong glance as they turned into the marina. Fishing boats, sloops, yachts and cabin cruisers were tied to the piers. Whitecaps dotted the surface of the restless sound, and only a few sailing vessels braved the overcast day. Lumbering tankers moved slowly inland, while ferries churned frothy wakes, cutting through the dark water as they crossed the water.
Her father parked the Jag near the pier and cut the engine. “I can see I’m not going to change your mind,” he said, slanting her a glance that took in the thrust of her jaw and the determination in her gaze. As if finally accepting the fact that she was serious, he snorted, “God knows I don’t understand it, but if you think you’ve got to leave the company for a while, I’ll try to muddle through without you.”
“For a while?” she countered. “I resigned, remember?”
He held up his hands, as if in surrender. “One step at a time, okay? Let’s just call this…sabbatical…of yours, a leave of absence.”
She wanted to argue, but didn’t. Maybe he needed time to adjust. Her leaving, after all, was as hard on him as it was on her.
Her expression softened, and she touched his arm. “You and Montgomery Inns will survive.”
“Lord, I hope so,” he murmured. “But I’m not accepting anything official like a resignation. And I want you to wait just a couple of weeks, until Puget West opens. That’s not too much to ask, is it?” he queried, pocketing his keys as they both climbed out of the car.
Together, hands shoved in the pockets of their coats, they walked quickly along the time-weathered planks of the waterfront. Marnie breathed in the scents of the marina. She’d grown up around boats, and the odors of salt and seaweed, brine and diesel brought back happy childhood memories of when her father had taken as much interest in her as he had in his company. Things had changed, of course. She’d gone to college, hadn’t needed him so much, and Montgomery Inns had developed into a large corporation with hotels stretched as far away as L.A. and Houston.
A stiff breeze snapped the flags on the moored vessels. High overhead sea gulls wheeled, their desolate cries barely audible over the sounds of throbbing engines. Free, she thought, smiling at the birds, they’re free. And lonely.
Her father grumbled, “Next thing I know you’ll be trading in your Beemer for a ‘69 Volkswagen.”
She smothered a sad smile. He didn’t know that she’d sold the BMW just last week, though she wasn’t in the market for a VW bug—well, at least not yet.
“So it’s settled, right?” he said, as if grateful to have finished a drawn-out negotiation. “When you get back, we’ll talk.”
“And if I still want to quit?”
“Then we’ll talk some more.” He fiddled in his pocket for his tobacco, stuffed a wad into the bowl of his pipe, and clamping the pipe between his teeth, searched in his pockets for a match. Trying to light the pipe, he walked quickly down the pier where his yacht, the Vanessa, was docked. “Maybe by the time you think things over, you’ll come to your senses about Kent.”
“I already have,” she said, controlling the fury that still burned deep inside her. Kent had played her for a fool; he wouldn’t get a second chance.
“Okay, okay, just promise me you’ll stick around until the new hotel is open.”
“It’s a promise,” she said, catching up to him. “But you’re not talking me out of this. As soon as Puget West opens its doors, I’m history.”
“For a while.” He puffed on the pipe, sending up tiny clouds of smoke.
“Maybe,” she said, unwilling to concede too much. Her father wasn’t a bad man, just determined, especially when it came to her and his hotel chain. But she could be just as stubborn as he. She climbed aboard his favorite plaything as the wind off the sound whipped her hair in front of her face. Someday, whether he wanted to or not, Victor Montgomery would be proud of her for her independence; he just didn’t know it yet. She’d prove to him, and everyone else who thought she was just another pampered rich girl, that she could make it on her own.
According to the Seattle Observer, the grand opening of Puget West Montgomery Inn was to be the social event of the year. Invitations had been sent to the rich and the beautiful, from New York to L.A., though most of the guests were from the Pacific Northwest.
The mayor of Seattle as well as Senator Mann, the State of Washington’s reigning Republican, were to attend. Local celebrities, the press and a few Hollywood types were rumored to be on hand to sip champagne and congratulate Victor Montgomery on the latest and most glittery link in the ever-expanding chain of Montgomery Inns.
Adam Drake wasn’t invited.
In fact, he was probably the last person good old Victor wanted to see walk through the glass doors of the main lobby. But Victor was in for the surprise of his life, Adam thought with a grim smile. Because Adam wouldn’t have missed the grand opening of Puget West for the world!
As the prow of his small boat sliced through the night-blackened waters of Puget Sound, he guided the craft toward his destination, the hotel itself. Lit like the proverbial Christmas tree, twenty-seven stories of Puget West rose against a stygian sky.
Wind ripped over the water, blasting his bare face and hands, but Adam barely felt the cold. He was too immersed in his own dark thoughts. Anger tightened a knot in his gut. He’d helped design this building; hell, he’d even outbid a Japanese investor for the land, all for the sake of Montgomery Inns and Victor Montgomery!
And he’d been kicked in the face for his efforts—framed for a crime he’d never committed. Well, he’d just spent the past three weeks of his life dredging up all the evidence again, talking with even the most obscure employees who had once worked for the company, and he’d started to unravel the web of lies, one string at a time. He didn’t have all the answers, just vague suspicions, but he was hell-bent to prove them true. Only then would he be able to get on with his own life.
And never again would he depend upon a man like Victor Montgomery for his livelihood. From this point on, Adam intended to be his own boss.
Close to the docks, Adam cut the boat’s engine and slung ropes around the moorings. Before he could second-guess himself, he hopped onto the new deck and walked
