After The Music

“I fell asleep,” Sabina explained. “What time is it?”

“Six o’clock. Hurry and throw something on. You’ll feel better when you’ve eaten.”

“What are you feeding me?” she asked on a yawn, preceding him into the apartment.

“Chicken Kiev,” he told her. “Pommes de terre, and broccoli in hollandaise sauce—with cherries jubilee for dessert.”

“You must have kept Susi in the kitchen all day!” she exclaimed with a laugh, picturing Al’s cook, a stooped little Cajun woman cursing a blue streak as she prepared that luscious repast.

“I did,” he said, green eyes gleaming. “I had to promise her a bonus, too.”

“Well, she certainly deserves it. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be out in a jiffy.” She took a quick shower and pulled on an elegant electric-blue satin dress with spaghetti straps, a square neckline, and a drop waist with a semifull skirt. It suited her slenderness and gave her gray eyes a blue look. Normally she’d never have been able to afford it on her budget, but she’d found it at an elegant used dress shop and paid only a fraction of its original price. Bargain hunting was one of her specialties. It had to be, on her erratic salary. She wore black sling pumps with it, and carried a dainty little black evening bag, and put on a long cashmere coat, because nights were getting cold in late autumn. She left her hair long instead of putting it into a high French twist, as she usually did in the evening. When she went back out into the living room, Al got to his feet and sighed.

“You dish,” he murmured. “What an eye-catcher!”

“Why does that make you look so smug?” she asked suspiciously.

“I told you I had a project in mind,” he said after a minute. “You remember hearing me talk about the children’s hospital I’m trying to get funds to build?”

“Yes,” she said, waiting.

“I’m trying to put together a benefit for it. On local television. If I had a couple of sponsors, and you for a drawing card, I could get some local talent and present it to the local stations.” He grinned. “I guarantee we’d raise more than enough.”

“You know I’d do it for you, without pay,” she said. “But we’re not big enough….”

“Yes, you are,” he said stubbornly. “A television appearance here would give you some great publicity. Look, I’m not asking you to do it for that reason and you know it, so don’t ruffle up at me. The kids will benefit most, and I’ve got some other talent lined up, as well,” he told her. “But I can’t sell the idea to the television stations until I’ve got the sponsors. I want to wheedle Thorn into being one of them.”

“Will he?”

“If he’s persuaded,” he said with a sly glance at her.

“Now, wait a minute,” she said curtly. “I am not playing up to your poisonous brother, for any reason.”

“You don’t have to play up to him. Just be friendly. Be yourself.”

She frowned. “You aren’t going to paint me into a corner, are you?”

“Scout’s honor,” he promised with a flash of white teeth. “Trust me.”

“I don’t trust anybody, even you,” she said with a smile.

“I’m working on that. Let’s go.”

He led her down the long flight of stairs.

“Couldn’t you ask him yourself?” she murmured. “After all, blood is thicker…”

“Thorn’s kind of miffed with me.”

“Why?”

Al stuck his hands in his pockets with a sigh and glanced at her ruefully. “He brought a girl home for me last night.”

Her eyes widened. “He what?”

“Brought a girl home for me. A very nice girl, with excellent connections, whose father owns an oil refinery. He was giving a dinner party, you see.”

“My God!” she burst out.

“I called my mother after it was over, and she called up and chewed on his ear for a while. That made him mad. He doesn’t like her very much most of the time, and he needs that refinery damned bad.” He shrugged. “If I could get him a refinery, he’d sure rush over to sponsor my benefit.”

“You could buy him one,” she suggested.

“With what? I’m broke. Not totally, but I don’t have the kind of capital I’d need for business on that scale. I’m a partner on paper only, until I come into my share of Dad’s estate next year.”

“I’m beginning to get a very interesting picture of Hamilton Regan Thorndon the Third,” she said stiffly. “A matchmaker, is he?”

“That’s about the size of it,” Al confessed. He gestured toward his car when they reached the street. “I’m parked over there.”

She followed him, scowling. “Does he do this to you often?”

“Only when he needs something he can’t buy.” He sighed. “You’d never guess how many businessmen have eligible daughters they want to marry off. Especially businessmen with refineries and blocks of oil stock and…”

“But that’s inhuman!”

“So is Thorn, from time to time.” He unlocked the car and helped her inside. “Haven’t you wondered why I usually keep you and Jessica away from company parties?”

“I’m beginning to realize,” she said to herself. She waited until he got inside the green Mercedes-Benz and started the engine before she added, “He doesn’t want you associating with the peons, I gather?”

He stiffened, started to deny it, and then huffed miserably. “He’s not marriage-minded himself. Thorn Oil is worth millions, with all its subsidiaries. He wants an heir for it. But with just the right girl, you see. Jessica has been married before, and her family isn’t socially prominent,” he said, biting it out. “Thorn would savage her.”

It all became crystal clear. Everything…How he felt about Jessica, why he’d been so secretive. “Oh, Al,” she breathed piteously. “Oh, Al, how horrible for you!”

“Next year I can fight him,” he said. “When I’ve got money of my own. But for now I have to lie low and bide my time.”

“I’d punch him out,” she growled softly, gray eyes throwing off silver sparks, her long hair swirling like silk as her head jerked.

He glanced at her as he drove toward his apartment down the brightly lit streets. “Yes, I believe you would. You’re like him. Fire and high temper and impulsive actions.” He smiled. “You’d be a match, even for my brother.”

“With all due respect, I don’t want your brother.”

“Yes, I know. But please don’t take a swing at him tonight. I need you.”

“Now, wait a minute….”

“Just to help present my case, nothing else,” he promised. His smile faded as he studied her. “I wouldn’t strand you with him. Thorn isn’t much good with innocents. You’ll know what I mean when you see the woman he’s got with him tonight. She’s as much a barracuda as he is. I only want you to help me convince him to sponsor the benefit. I’ll get an accompanist and you can do the aria from Madame Butterfly for him.”

“He likes opera?” she asked.