CHAPTER SEVEN
After seven calls that got intercepted by a somewhat surly secretary and two messages left in a voicemail inbox that had only a beep rather than any form of greeting, Jason finally had an appointment with Shayne. The secretary had called him with the same cheerful attitude she had had the other times they had spoken and informed him that he was to meet Shayne at eight o'clock Friday evening at Neil's house.
Jason repeated the process of announcing himself into the speaker, driving up to the valet, and knocking with the pineapple just as he had the first time he visited the home. This time, though, instead of the door gradually gliding open and a subdued servant standing behind him, the door swung open nearly before he was able to finish knocking and he found himself staring at a stunningly beautiful woman who didn't seem terribly pleased to see him standing on the front porch.
A very familiar, stunningly beautiful woman.
Jason's heart jumped to his throat. The morning after their tryst had been a pleasant one. She made him coffee before driving him back to his car, let him kiss her goodbye, and smiled at him as he climbed behind the wheel. But she never offered her phone number, and he had the feeling they were both supposed to walk away with nothing more than a pleasant memory. But he'd been thinking about her ever since, and he had already convinced himself to return to the bar to find her again.
"Mr. Cross," she said, her tone completely neutral, her face set in a perfect mask. If she recognized him, she gave no sign of it. In fact, she was so indifferent, that for a moment, he had to question himself. Was he mistaken? Maybe this was a different woman with a very strong, uncanny resemblance? But it couldn’t be—he noticed the freckle on her nose. The birthmark below her ear.
"Yes," Jason said with a bit of hesitation. "I'm here to meet with Shayne Simmons, I believe he's expecting me."
"Come in."
The woman stepped out of the way and Jason walked past her, taking in a breath of the spicy, yet distinctly feminine scent that she wore as he stepped into the foyer.
It almost made him dizzy and he had a flashback to the way she clenched around him, the way she screamed for him. He was so distracted by the memory that he thought he must have misheard her when she said, "I'm Shayne."
She held out her hand to him and Jason took it, wondering if he was caught in a strange nightmare. Or maybe this was a setup? Perhaps Vincent had discovered his one-night stand and concocted all of this in an elaborate attempt to drive Jason crazy and destroy his life? Jason honestly couldn't say Vincent wasn't capable of it, but he couldn't think of a single motive for the other man to go to all of the trouble.
"Hi," Jason said, knowing that his voice probably sounded higher and more tremulous that he would have wanted it to, but not able to control it.
"Shayne. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise. Let's speak in the parlor."
What the hell did that mean? Had she been drunk that night? Was that why she didn't remember him?
"Okay."
Shayne started toward the parlor and Jason followed her, taking a moment to appreciate the sway of her lush hips beneath her prim navy suit. Even in this weird bizarro-land, she made him itch to touch her. She had pinned her hair up into a severe knot at the back of her head and Jason couldn't help but remember what it looked like when she let her locks tumble down.
Jason entered the parlor and crossed to the same chair that he had sat in when he spoke to Neil, setting his briefcase at his feet again and reaching to release the clasp.
"I don't know how much your father has told you about the opportunity, but I brought along some information—"
"Let me stop you, Mr. Cross."
Shayne cut Jason off and he looked up at her, realizing that she hadn't sat down yet.
"Excuse me?"
"I'm sure that you went to a lot of effort to put together a presentation, but I don't want to waste your time. I only asked you here tonight to let you know that we are not interested in this investment. I know that my father has built you up and told you that he is really excited, but I don't look at potential investments as opportunities to do something fun. I look at them as business, and frankly, an old family theme park is just not a good business to get involved with. I'm sorry, but we are not going to be making this investment."
"How do you know that it isn't a good business?" Jason asked. "Have you invested in a theme park before?"
"No, and for good reason. These parks are not sustainable."
"This one has been in continuous operation for more than a century."
"But it's failing. No amount of money can bring back the dead. It would be kinder to put the park out its misery and allow the old man running it to retire."
"You're right. Money can't bring back the dead. But I'm not interested in flushing your money down the toilet and I'm not here to waste your time, either. If I didn't think I had a sustainable business model, I would not have requested this meeting."
"So, you have a chart and some numbers. You make your commission whether or not you're right. My father stands to lose much more than he has to gain."
"Has it ever occurred to you that your father might value something more than money?"
She snorted. "Of course it has. That's why I'm the one who handles the money."
"And do you really think I'm here to scam your father out of his money?"
"Your intentions are none of my concern. I only care about the outcome."
"And you can predict the future?"
"It's not difficult to predict the future of a disintegrating amusement park in a poor economy."
"It's not as dire as you think. That's why I'm asking you to hear me out on this."
Suddenly, he was feeling far more involved in this account than he had ever thought he was going to, and the idea that Neil's daughter was ready to just reject him without even taking the time to hear what he had to say about the park was infuriating.
"I don't think that I need to hear anything more."
"What have you heard?"
"That it's a small family-owned theme park with attendance that is dwindling rapidly and has no discernable theme to build off of, which translates to a dying park with little to no chance of revival. An investment would be a waste of time and a waste of money."
"What about Mr. Kelsey and everything his family has worked for?"
Shayne's face remained cold and still.
"An investment would just be getting his hopes up to have them dashed even harder. It would be cruel to give him a sense that he could save his park when the truth is that those small family parks are dropping like flies and there's no stopping it. It’s kinder to just let the park die now so he can move on."
"Yeah, I heard you the first time." He exhaled slowly. "Is this because of...the other night?"
Her eyebrow twitched and he saw a crack in the mask for the first time. "It has nothing to do with that."
"Why didn't you tell me your real name?"
"I did. Only my father calls me Shayne."
"I like Mary better."
"If you think just because we..." She sighed and he caught a glimpse of the woman that had been so difficult to leave behind. "Jason, my father has lost millions of dollars to poorly made investments. He can't afford to lose anymore. Good luck. I hope you find what you're looking for and I hope the park is a huge success. But you won't find your investor here."
Jason could see the conversation was over. Knowing he'd lost the battle, feeling like he lost the war, too, he rose from his seat. "Thank you for your time. I can find my own way out."