“And it doesn’t surprise me one bit,” Natalie added.
When her sisters raised their glasses, Rory shook her head. “It’s not a done deal yet. First I have to snap a picture of Jared Slade.”
Frowning, Natalie tapped her fingers on the table. “Jared Slade…isn’t he that mysterious business tycoon, the recluse?”
Rory nodded. “I’ve done some research on him. The Wall Street Journal calls him the twenty-first-century version of Howard Hughes. He’s also been dubbed ‘the man with the Midas touch’ when it comes to business. His companies run the gamut from five-star hotels and golf courses to high-end retail clothing stores. He’s absolutely fascinating.”
“He’s had his share of trouble lately,” Natalie said. “There was a food-poisoning incident at his hotel in Atlanta and a fire at a factory of his in upstate New York.”
Rory stared at Natalie. “How did you know all that?”
“He’s been in D.C. twice in the past month. Part of my job is to try to keep tabs on high-profile people who might bring trouble here with them. His office always refuses to let us know where he’s staying.”
Rory picked up a strip of green pepper and gestured with it. “He’s like a phantom. No one knows what he looks like. I’m beginning to wonder if he even exists. Maybe he’s just a made-up figurehead like Betty Crocker.”
When her sisters aimed two blank stares at her, she said, “You know, that was the housewife that General Mills created out of whole cloth to promote their products. She was just a picture they put on their cake mixes and stuff. It could be that ‘Jared Slade’ is an imaginary person that a very enterprising CEO is using to create a certain mystique about Slade Enterprises.”
“You’ll have to have some kind of plan if you’re going to take a photo of someone who’s never been seen and who might not be real at all,” Sierra commented.
Rory reached for a cube of cheese and stuffed it into her mouth. Her younger sister had a steel trap of a mind that always got to the heart of the problem. Rory didn’t have a plan—exactly—at least not one she could jot down on a note card.
Swallowing, she said, “It’s pretty simple. Lea Roberts received a tip that Jared Slade will be checking into Les Printemps tomorrow morning. I’m going to be in the lobby waiting. I figure I’ll snap the picture when Mr. Slade registers at the desk.”
Natalie frowned. “It sounds risky to me. Celebrities have been known to resort to violence when their pictures are taken by the paparazzi.”
Rory met her sister’s eyes. “I’ll be in the lobby of an exclusive hotel. And I ran hurdles in high school, remember? If worse comes to worst, I’ll just make a run for it.”
“I still don’t like it,” Natalie said.
Rory leaned forward. “I’ve got to do this, Nat. I want this staff job more than anything. It’s my way of proving to everyone including myself that I can be successful at something.”
“I think this is even more than that,” Sierra said. “It’s personal. You’re intrigued by the man himself.”
Rory turned to stare at Sierra. It never ceased to amaze her that her younger sister always saw more than anyone expected her to.
Natalie’s eyes narrowed as she shot Sierra a look and then turned to study Rory. “I thought you’d decided to swear off men.”
“Real men. I’m on a sabbatical from them since Paul the jerk dumped me. Jared Slade is merely a mystery I’m interested in solving. What makes a man want to hide from the world the way he does?”
Natalie held up a hand. “Let’s clarify one point. I don’t think that Paul the jerk qualifies as a ‘real man.’ He used you to help pay the rent while he made it through his last year of law school. The day he walked out was the luckiest day of your life.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Sierra said, raising her martini.
Rory raised her glass and bemusedly toasted her good fortune. “It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve been dumped. I’m kind of getting used to it. The way I see it, I don’t have good luck with men. That’s why I’m not having anything to do with them until my ideal fantasy man comes along.”
“A fantasy man?” Sierra grabbed a fresh note card out of her canvas bag. “I’m doing some research on female sexual fantasies. What’s he like?”
Smiling, Rory drew a finger down the stem of her martini glass. “He’s tall, dark and handsome, of course. And he’s a little dangerous looking. He has this tough outer shell, but he’s really a sweetie underneath. And when he smiles, he has a dimple—just one—in his left cheek.”
Rory warmed to her theme, grateful that the conversation had veered away from the riskiness of her plan to photograph Jared Slade. “But the best part is my fantasy man thinks I’m incredibly sexy. I drive him nuts.” She leaned closer to her sisters. “He has the most incredible hands.”
“And you know this because…?” Natalie asked.
Thoroughly at ease, Rory selected a stuffed mushroom. “There’s not much sense creating a fantasy man if you’re not going to engage in some hot fantasies with him.”
“Paul really did a job on you if you’re reduced to having fantasy sex,” Natalie said.
“Do you see me complaining?” Rory licked her thumb. “The great thing about fantasy sex is that there can be more variety than with just one real man.”
Sierra glanced at Natalie, who’d grown quiet and grinned. “I don’t think our big sister agrees with you. I think she’s found her fantasy man. Maybe if you push your luck, you’ll find yours, too.”
Rory dubiously glanced down at her father’s letter. “I’ll be happy if I’m lucky enough to get an inter—a picture of Jared Slade.”
Natalie frowned. “I’m not going to talk you out of this plan of yours, am I?”
“No, so why don’t you wish me luck?” Rory grabbed another cheese cube to ease the nerves that had just returned to her stomach. She hadn’t revealed the whole of her plan to her sisters. The picture was just step one.
“Well, I can’t argue with following Harry’s advice,” Natalie said. “It got me Chance.”
Rory grinned. “Maybe it will get me my fantasy man.”
“Then let’s drink to it.” Sierra raised her glass.
“And to luck,” Natalie said.
“And to Harry.” Rory sipped her martini. Tomorrow, she was not only going to snap a picture of Jared Slade, she was also going to get him to agree to an interview. She could do it. She was a daredevil, wasn’t she?
LEA ROBERTS STARED OUT the window of her office, but she wasn’t taking in the view of the Washington Monument. She was too worried that she’d made a mistake in the way she’d handled Rory Gibbs.
The laughter might have been a bit harsh, but she didn’t want Rory even to think about asking for an interview. She would be the one to do that. Jared Slade would be furious with Rory for taking his picture. That would allow Lea to step in and play good cop to Rory’s bad cop. Her plan was to offer to trade the picture for an interview.
Turning from the window, Lea began to pace. She really hated to give up the reins of control, but what else could she have done? She couldn’t risk taking the photo herself. If Jared Slade was really Hunter Marks, the man might recognize her.
She’d made the right decision. Rory was smart and inventive. Those qualities could work in her favor. Hell, she should be able to snap that photo and get away before Jared Slade could blink.
The problem was Rory Gibbs was also impetuous and hard to predict. She was forever doing something unexpected. Lea raised her hand and pressed two fingers against the headache that had begun to throb behind her right ear. If Jared Slade turned out to be Hunter Marks, it would be her ticket to what she’d always dreamed of: a Pulitzer and most certainly a six-figure book contract.
In her mind, it was still a big if. Her anonymous informant seemed certain, but Lea wasn’t so sure. Was it really possible that Hunter Marks had reinvented himself as a man who owned and ran a multimillion-dollar corporation? It would be the scoop of a lifetime.
Oh, breaking the story about the scandal that had nearly destroyed a town had gotten her a job with the Boston Globe for a while. But the story had become old news as soon as Hunter had disappeared. And after a few months at the Globe, she’d been eased into covering the society page and eventually she’d taken the job at Celebs. Had there been a way to play her cards differently?
After moving to her desk, Lea fished out an aspirin bottle and downed two tablets without water. One snapshot. Then she’d be able to tell if Jared Slade was the man she’d known ten years ago as Hunter Marks. If he was, she’d have the leverage she’d need to finally get everything she wanted. This time she’d play her cards right.
Hunter Marks had secrets to hide, and Lea knew them all.
2
THIS WAS DEFINITELY her lucky day! Rory Gibbs barely kept herself from dancing a little jig. The sketchy plan she’d had when she’d entered the hotel had worked like a charm. The bell captain had bought her story. Now all she had to do was snap the picture. She gave her bubble gum three quick chews.