She met his eyes. "No," she said quietly, and he kissed her.

Well, Matthew, she thought, t.i.t for tat, and told herself to let it go. Then she remembered how this whole crazy afternoon had started.

She held up the receipt.

"When do I start packing?" she said and gave the form a little shake.

He took it and opened it and smiled and wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her chest and lifted her off the ground.

"We're going home!" he hooted.

Then he grimaced and made a pained sound and nearly dropped her.

"Darling! What is it? Your shoulder?"

He nodded, closed his eyes to fight off the pain.

"Oh, you poor thing. When we go we've got to get that fixed for you, first thing. I don't care what it costs."

He shook his head. "It's very expensive," he said.

"I don't care. Now I want you to promise me you'll let me do that for you. Promise?"

"Yes," he said, "I promise."

"Good," Greta said, and began unb.u.t.toning her blouse.

Chapter 20

After bolting from the boardroom, Matthew called William Harrell's secretary at ICP in New York, and she confirmed what he already knew: William was out of town, and was due back into New York this evening. He asked her for the flight number and departure time from San Francisco, then took off for the airport.

He raced down the corridor of the United terminal, checked his watch as he slowed to pa.s.s through the metal detectors. He found William's flight on one of the departure screens, and to his great relief, the flight had been delayed fifteen minutes. He collected himself and walked quickly to the correct gate.

He spotted William in the gate waiting area, flipping through some notes, a leather garment bag beside him on the floor.

Matthew walked up to him, and William glanced up from his notebook. "Matthew," he said, surprised. He snapped his notebook closed and stood, shook Matthew's extended hand with a mixture of curiosity and indifference. "Are you on this flight?"

"No. I need to talk to you," Matthew said. He motioned for William to sit, then sat down beside him.

"I know you met with Peter Jones today," Matthew said, glancing at the binder in William's lap.

"I did," William said.

Matthew hadn't expected William to deny that he had met with Peter, though now, hearing him admit it, he feared that they had already formed some sort of deal, and that he was possibly too late.

"Look, I'll get right to the point. Today I proposed to the executive staff that I contact you with Wallaby's proposition of merging our two companies, as you originally planned."

"Really. And why, may I ask, the sudden change of heart?"

Matthew cleared his throat and tried for an open confiding tone.

"Simple. We decided that a merger would be the best thing for Wallaby because of how well the strategic alliance was received, and how well the Joey II is selling already. The orders are phenomenal."

The gate attendant announced that flight was about to begin boarding. Matthew's heart quickened, but William's expression remained cool and unchanged.

"The best thing?" William repeated, barely able to conceal his sarcasm. "I see."

"I want us to go through with the rest of our plan," Matthew said. "With my support, the merger would be smooth and friendly.

I guarantee it."

"And the board of directors?"

"I've already put a call in to each, and have spoken with two members on my way here. Both approved the prospect. And with their votes, as well as mine and Hank's, we've already got a majority, in addition to the entire executive staff's full support."

"Hmm. Interesting. Let me think about this, Matthew." William rose to his feet and reached for his garment bag.

"Wait," Matthew said, gripping the other man's arm desperately.

"I know the original plan wavered a little, but I fully understand now that you were right all along." Matthew had to get William's a.s.surance, his word, that they would go back to their original plan.

Hoisting his garment bag over his shoulder, William seemed nonplused. The gate attendant announced final boarding.

"I know it's asking a lot," Matthew said, stepping between William and his path to the gate. "But I'd like your word that you'll recommend to your board that ICP reinstate its plan to acquire Wallaby."

William glanced down at the notebook tucked under his arm.

Matthew fancied that he was perhaps sizing up the second of two opportunities that had been presented to him today, silently judging which of the two rivals he would choose.

William looked Matthew in the eye, nodded. "Very well," he said, "I'll make the recommendation, as we had originally planned.

You've got my word."

Matthew let out a sound that was at once a great sigh of relief and a slightly hysterical chuckle. "Thank you," Matthew said, slapping William on the back. "Thank you, thank you." He ambled alongside William to the gate and quickly ran down his immediate course of action.

"Matthew, relax," William said. "I said you have my word. Now, go home. We'll talk in the morning." William handed the flight attendant his boarding pa.s.s, and she removed the ticket and handed him the receipt stub.

"Good-bye, Matthew," William said, then turned and proceeded down the jetway.

It was done.

Peter picked up the phone to call Kate at her studio, but then he remembered the message Grace had given him. He dialed the number.

"Good afternoon, Phillips and Phillips," a receptionist announced.

"Arnold Phillips, please," Peter said.

The man came on the line a moment later.

"This is Peter Jones. You called me?"