His reaction to her revelation had been pleasing.
She looked over at him now, expectantly.
He hadn’t yet keyed the ignition. “It’s not safe for either of us to go home.”
“Agreed.”
“But we have to go somewhere we can sleep and shower—then plot our next move.”
“Where would we be safe?”
Chase shrugged. “Anyplace outside Williamsburg should be fine. We might as well make it someplace conducive to creative thinking. What summons your muse?”
“Running, swimming, biking. A long hot bath or shower. A good cup of coffee. Why are you talking about creative thinking?”
“Tracking down and catching Tom is not going to be easy. The guy’s clearly an experienced operative. I have no doubt that he’s accustomed to actively thwarting his competition.” Chase drummed the wheel while he spoke. “We’re in for a battle of wits. I’m with you on the running and showers. Don’t have a lot of recent experience with swimming or biking though.”
“So where to? A national park? There are plenty of those around here.”
Chase stopped tapping. “Actually, Virginia Beach comes to mind.”
“Never been.”
“I think Guinness considers it the longest pleasure beach in the world. I know they’ve got a three-mile boardwalk, and they host the annual East Coast Surfing Championship. I had to pretend to participate once as part of a training op.”
“You’re a surfer?”
“Not a very good one. That was the point of the training. Learning how to fake expertise.” Chase brushed the air, pushing the memory aside. “For our purposes, it will be easy to get lost there and pleasant enough. But I have to warn you, the weather will be muggy. Downright oppressive at times.”
Skylar felt the tangential realities of her situation begin to sink in. “How long is this going to take? What should I be preparing for? Financially I mean.”
She watched his expression as her words emerged. His eyes grew warm and his cheeks rose. “Being between jobs myself, I share your sensitivity. Let’s see what we can find.”
They found a Best Western Plus right on the beach. Rather than approach the reception desk, Chase led her through the lobby to the business center. They found two available PCs and the hint of an ocean breeze.
Skylar watched him call up the hotel they were in. He typed in the date and called up the prices. They were surprisingly cheap for someone used to Florida rates. “Online we can get the AAA rate. At the desk you need a card.”
She studied the screen over his shoulder. King rooms were $66 with AAA. Rooms with two beds were $75. Both the king and the double came with ocean-view balconies and free high-speed WiFi and included a full breakfast. “It’s much cheaper than Florida.”
He rose and offered her the chair. “Why don’t you pick whatever makes you most comfortable. I’m fine either way.”
Skylar didn’t need to think about it. She could feed herself with the money saved by sharing a room. Modesty wasn’t a question. Triathletes lost that during their first competitive race, skipping changing rooms to shave seconds off their times, and wearing skintight clothing knowing the cameras were constantly rolling.
But she still found herself hesitating to click the mouse.
She realized that his perception mattered to her. What would he think of her if she selected the double? Not about the implied consent, she didn’t get the impression that he had expectations, but what he’d conclude about her character. On the other hand, would he feel offended if she selected two king rooms?
This was silly, she told herself. He’d just saved her from being cremated alive. Chase had literally pulled her unconscious body out of the fire. “We’re not married, or even dating. In fact, I hardly know you. But at this point, I think it’s safe to say that we’re a team.” She clicked the double.
38
Satisfaction Guarantee
FELIX WELCOMED PIERCE aboard his new Christensen yacht and signaled the captain to set sail.
“I didn’t know captains came in the females-under-forty variety,” Pierce noted in an admiring tone, after turning his gaze back to Felix.
“They’re a rare find—but well worth the search. I’ve been on a bit of a binge lately, cutting the clutter out of my life.”
“Your old captain was clutter?”
“He did his job, but his presence didn’t bring me pleasure. That counts as clutter under my new operational paradigm. With Shelly,” he gazed toward the bridge, “I smile every time she welcomes me aboard.”
The two numbers guys had decided to yacht-pool to Aria’s for the Immortals’ meeting. Felix had suggested it. He wanted time alone with Pierce, both to brainstorm and to observe. The senatorial wannabe still topped his list of suspects.
They took the outside stairway to the top deck, where an empty 2009 Petrus bottle waited beside a full decanter and two Bordeaux glasses. Felix gestured toward an adjacent seat. “I thought this might smooth the journey.”
A waiter appeared while they were settling into the soft white lounge chairs. He poured the wine and vanished without a word. Felix clinked Pierce’s glass, then closed his eyes as the first sip passed his lips. It boggled his mind that wine could be so satisfying and complex, whereas grape juice was just another drink. Such were the powers of yeast and time.
He opened his eyes after that satisfying swallow and got straight to business. “What’s your latest thinking?”
Pierce needed no clarification. The Immortals faced only one pressing problem. “I’m thinking we began our earlier analysis with a faulty assumption.”
This was exactly the kind of conjecture Felix hoped to hear. “How so?”
“We assumed that any outsider who learned of us would attempt to blackmail his or her way to immortality. That’s not necessarily true.”
Surprise and intrigue stirred Felix’s stomach. “You think we could have wronged someone so much that they’d pick revenge over eternal life? I’d think even the most jaded individual would find immortality irresistible.”
Pierce raised his glass to study the wine’s color and test its legs. He knew how to tantalize people during pitches. “That was my thinking at first as well, but only because I approached it from a personal perspective. More specifically, from the viewpoint of people like us. Businesspeople. Professionals. If you broaden your outlook, you’ll find that there are entire demographic groups who wouldn’t make that choice.”
“Seriously?”
“I can think of three. There may be more.”
Felix didn’t know anyone who wouldn’t want to live forever. But then, that was Pierce’s point. “Prime the pump for me.”
Pierce savored a sip of wine while Felix waited. “Our treatment does nothing for the terminally ill.”
Felix almost slapped his forehead. He had not thought of that. It was true though. Eos halted aging, but it didn’t stop the spread of disease. Who else? What other demographic?
He couldn’t think of anyone.
Pierce did not leave him hanging this time, but he couldn’t resist a bit of intellectual one-upmanship. “Do you remember the Trojan Tithonus from your Eos mythology?”
Everyone had read about the goddess of dawn back when they founded the company bearing her name, but those details had long since faded from Felix’s mind. “Refresh my memory.”
“Eos asked Zeus to let her lover live forever. But she forgot to also request that Zeus grant Tithonus eternal youth. Like many myths, it did not have a happy ending.”
Felix quickly connected the dots. “Point being that immortality is bound to be less appealing to the elderly. I concede that I might not want to go on forever trapped in a wrinkled old sack with a failing mind and leaky colon. That’s two I’ve got to give you.”