Make Me Forget - Page 72

She saw Jim nod as he drove. “Yeah, people will be arriving in droves tomorrow. The barge came today. Always a big deal this time of year.”

“Barge?” Harper asked curiously.

Jim met her gaze briefly in the rearview mirror. “The barge that will set off Mr. Latimer’s fireworks?”

She shook her head, smiling. “I’m new to Tahoe Shores. I’m not sure I know what—”

“Mr. Latimer puts off an awesome fireworks display, both on the Fourth of July and Labor Day. Everybody thinks it’s better than anything any of the local towns put on, even Reno or San Francisco. People flock to the beaches around here to see it.”

“Oh . . . that’s nice of him.”

“Yeah,” Jim chuckled at her understatement. “He’s a really generous guy. Despite it all.”

“Despite it all?” Harper asked, interested in what a young employee would actually think of Latimer. Was he referring to Jacob’s supposed shadowy past, and the potential need for him to do a lot of positive public relations and philanthropy, in order to make up for it?

“Despite all his money and everything, he’s a good guy,” Jim explained. “I didn’t know what to expect when I first drove him—Ms. Shields was the one to hire me, so I hadn’t met him until then. But he’s never been anything but nice to me. He really knows a lot about cars and engines and stuff, too, for someone so . . . you know . . .”

Jim faded off, and Harper didn’t press him to elaborate. She had the impression his youthful enthusiasm had gotten away from him, and that he’d been given strict orders never to be loose-lipped—especially about Latimer himself—with anyone he drove. Had Jacob learned about car engines as well as the workings of boats from the man he’d mentioned the other night on the yacht, the one he’d worked for when he was a teenager?

Like on the night she’d attended the cocktail party, Elizabeth Shields greeted her on the front steps of the Latimer mansion. She was dressed more casually tonight, but every bit as professionally, in a feminine white blouse and dark blue skirt that emphasized her trim figure. They greeted each other with polite friendliness.

“Jacob is still in a meeting, but will be with you shortly,” Elizabeth said briskly as she opened one of the heavy pine doors for Harper. She led Harper into the enormous, windowed great room. “He asked me to put you in the den until—” She broke off suddenly, and Harper realized why. Jacob and another man had just walked through the terrace doors on the far side of the great room. Harper saw Jacob’s gaze land on her. Everyone froze for a few seconds. The tall, gray-haired man noticed them, too, but no one said anything for a tense moment.

“Just follow me, then,” Elizabeth said in a muted tone to Harper after the awkward pause. A little bewildered, Harper jerked her gaze off Jacob and began to follow Elizabeth in the direction of the staircase and the corridor behind it.

“Harper.”

Harper stopped and turned. Jacob was stalking across the long stretch of the great room. He looked good, wearing a silver-gray suit, white shirt, and black tie. The coolness of the colors of his apparel seemed to set off the vibrant, warm tones of his bronzed skin and hazel eyes. From the corner of her vision, Harper noticed that Elizabeth had halted, as well.

“I was just finishing up,” Jacob said as he neared her.

“Don’t let me bother you,” Harper assured. “I’m happy to wait.” She smiled politely at the older gentleman when he trailed behind Jacob, approaching them. She recognized him as the United States secretary of defense, Stewart Overton. Well, here’s confirmation of Ruth’s speculations about Jacob and Lattice still being involved with the Department of Defense. Jacob glanced back at Overton.

“Harper McFadden, this is Stewart,” he said.

“Stewart Overton,” the man said, stepping toward Harper with his hand extended.

Jacob’s shoulder twitched in a whatever works for you gesture. Clearly, Jacob hadn’t expected the secretary of

defense to reveal his full name.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Harper said, shaking hands. “Jacob has a lovely view here, doesn’t he?”

“Magnificent. We were just enjoying it. Best view of the lake I’ve ever seen.”

“Harper works for our local paper, but she used to be a reporter for the San Francisco Chronicle,” Elizabeth said tensely.

A silence settled. Awkward. Jacob gave Elizabeth a repressive glance, scowling, while Overton assessed Harper with a sharpened gaze.

“Well, Jacob knows how to keep his own house,” Overton said with an air of a man who had just made a decision. “I know he wouldn’t invite anyone into it who didn’t know the rules. Jacob? We’ll be in touch?” Overton boomed, briskly shaking Jacob’s hand. “No, Elizabeth, I can see myself up to the helipad. My pilot is waiting,” he said when Elizabeth began to hurry in his direction.

For a few seconds after Overton left the room, the three of them didn’t speak. Harper glanced uneasily from Elizabeth—who looked worried—to Jacob, who was still scowling slightly at his assistant. For a few seconds, she wondered if he was about to call out Elizabeth in front of her—Harper—but then—

“How about a swim before dinner?” he asked Harper suddenly.

“I didn’t bring a suit.”

“We have suits. In the pool house, right, Elizabeth?”

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