that’s honest, if not particularly prudent. May I enquire why?’
Knowing she had nothing to lose, she lifted her chin and looked him in the eye. ‘While we were on our way here I asked Alan what you were like…’
Without looking at him she was aware that Alan was sitting transfixed, while, one blond brow raised, Lang waited.
‘He said you were known to have principles, and to be scrupulously fair… If that’s true, I think you’ll admit it would have been rather more ethical on your part, and prevented any such mistake, if you’d mentioned your wife’s death earlier.’
There was dead silence for perhaps ten seconds, before Lang Dalton admitted soberly, ‘You’re quite right, of course.’
Turning to Alan, he added, ‘Please accept my apologies. At first I presumed that it wasn’t a genuine blunder, merely a rather clumsy attempt to conceal the fact that you knew about Nina’s death and the circumstances.’
Then to Cassandra he said, ‘In my own defence I must say that in spite of strenuous efforts to keep things hushed up I could hardly believe the story hadn’t leaked out…’
He stopped speaking as a maid appeared and began to clear away the dishes, while the butler produced the next course.
Lang Dalton was a surprising man, Cassandra thought; despite his arbitrary manner and his undoubted arrogance, he’d been big enough not only to admit a fault, but to apologize.
And clearly Alan’s assessment of him as being hard and lacking in emotion was a false one. Judging by that look of stark pain, he’d loved his wife very much, and was still devastated by her death.
Nina—he’d called her Nina—must have been quite young, much too young to die, and in what appeared to have been tragic and singular circumstances.
Circumstances that had obviously caused tongues to wag. From Lang Dalton’s reaction it seemed clear that he’d been the victim of some vicious gossip, which had left him angry and embittered, suspicious of the most innocent remark.
She could only feel sorry for him.
Having served them from a seafood platter and filled the long-stemmed glasses with a fine white wine from the Napa Valley, at a nod from his master, the butler departed.
When they were once more alone, their host remarked a shade drily, ‘Now, as I’ve made light conversation virtually impossible, I think I’ll break my own rule and get down to business, and the reason I invited you both here.
‘George Irvine, who worked for my father before me, is retiring at the end of next month, so I need a new head of West Coast Finances…’
Looking as if he couldn’t believe his ears, Alan echoed, ‘A new head of West Coast Finances?’
‘And before I begin to make a decision I wanted to know how your fiancée would take to the idea of moving to the States. Sometimes there are family commitments…’
Alan said quickly, ‘My parents died last year, so I’ve no family. Neither has Cass…or at least none who are close.’
Lang Dalton gave him a cool glance, and went on, ‘The finance department is based at Seguro House in Los Angeles, where the two main problems are traffic and smog.
‘Some people love LA, others dislike it intensely. Despite its glamorous Hollywood image, my wife hated it. That’s why I transferred my administrative centre to San Francisco…
‘I understand you’re getting married shortly, and how a wife feels about her husband’s job, and its location, can make a great deal of difference to—’
His voice thick and eager, Alan broke in, ‘I’m quite sure Cass would love to live in LA. Wouldn’t you, darling?’
‘I would prefer Cassandra to make up her own mind,’ Lang said repressively. ‘The States Western Seaboard is a long way from England, and it isn’t easy to leave a country one’s always regarded as home.’
Then, addressing her directly, he said, ‘No doubt you’ll need time, a proper chance to think it over.’
In answer to Alan’s appealing glance, and bearing in mind that so far nothing had been said about a job for her, she said carefully, ‘I can tell you now that if Alan is offered a job in the States I would be very happy to come with him.’
His mouth wry, Lang Dalton suggested sardonically, ‘Home is where the heart is?’
‘Trite, but true.’
Though he gave no obvious sign, with an insight that surprised her Cassandra knew her calm answer had nettled him.
Looking at Alan, Lang said briskly, ‘In that case, tomorrow morning, if you’re agreeable, you’ll be flown to LA. It would be advisable to spend a couple of days going through the finance department offices. That way you’ll be able to see at first hand just what the post entails.
‘I’ve asked the executive staff to be prepared to go in this weekend, so you can meet the people who, if the promotion goes through, you’ll be working with. It will give you a good chance to size each other up…’
Watching their faces, Alan’s open and blazing with excitement, the older man’s cool and shuttered, hiding his thoughts, Cassandra felt the first prickle of apprehension.
Lang Dalton had said ‘You’ll be flown to LA…you’ll be able to see at first hand…’ No mention had been made of her going.
But she was just being over-anxious, she assured herself firmly. He had told Alan to make her his PA, he knew they were a good team, and he had invited them both to California.
As though sensing her tension, Alan asked, ‘What about Cass? Will she—?’
‘I’m afraid any deal doesn’t include a job for your future wife, though the rise in salary should more than compensate for that.’
Alan tried again. ‘Only Cass is the best PA I’ve ever had—’
Frowning, Lang broke in, ‘George Irvine already has a very experienced PA who has been with him on a part-time basis for a number of years. Miss Shulster knows all the ins and outs of our West Coast financial dealings, the kind of companies and projects we are willing to lend money to. Though she only comes in for four hours a day she should prove invaluable…’
Seeing that the younger man looked about to argue, Lang added with an air of finality, ‘She has an invalid mother to care for and support, so I have no intention of disturbing the status quo. If you feel you can’t fit in with the present set-up then we’ll forget the whole thing.’
‘Oh, no…’ Alan cried hastily, ‘I’m quite sure I can fit in… And Cass won’t mind, I know. She’s never been a dedicated businesswoman.’
His expression unreadable, Lang Dalton lifted his wine glass and took a sip, before saying with a touch of irony, ‘Really? Yet I seem to recall from her career résumé that at university Cassandra studied market-forces and economics and graduated with a first class honours degree…?’
How
