by Zuri Day
There was only one way to find out. He finished up with Curtis, left the fishery and headed to the heliport for the flight back to Anchorage. On the way, he called his assistant. “Hi, Becky. I need you to pull up the itinerary for the trip to Paradise Cove.”
“Sure, Atka.” She could be heard clicking computer keys, and was back in a moment. “The meetings begin on Monday, but there’s some kind of dedication and dance on Friday to which you guys have also been invited.”
“I thought I remembered something like that. Do me a favor. Change my flight from Sunday night to Friday morning. I think I’ll go to that event, after all.”
“Will do. Oh, and remember the dance is formal, so you’ll need a tux.”
“In that case, fly me in and out of San Francisco, secure a helicopter rental, an on-call driver there and a car rental in Paradise Cove. Make an appointment with my barber for Thursday and push my Friday walk-through out two weeks.”
“Is that how long you’ll be gone?”
“Probably not, but I want to have the flexibility to play it by ear.”
He ended the call, arrived at his helicopter and was soon twenty thousand miles in the air headed for Anchorage.
High above the hustle and bustle of life where he was one with nature, he felt close to the Great Spirit and wrestled with a unending stream of thoughts regarding his papoota princess, and the motive behind the magic that had happened the other night.
* * *
The week flew by. Teresa barely noticed. After visiting her private doctor and getting an air splint to protect her ankle against further injury, she’d thrown herself into firming up the second article, this one about the booming salmon industry of Bristol Bay, and helping the family, staff and volunteers work to ensure the success of the Drake Lake dedication and the subsequent black-tie event later that evening. Between that and working on the remaining articles on Alaska, her plate had been full. So much so that she’d almost forgotten about what’s-his-name.
Try as she might to forget his name, Atka’s face had never been far from her thoughts, or his soothing voice and piercing eyes away from her mind. What she’d discovered while researching Dillingham, where they’d met, and the town by Bristol Bay, made him an even more intriguing man. What she’d found out while talking to Gloria about the first article had blown her mind. She never would have guessed that Atka, the simple fisherman, was the man listed on the company roster as A. Sinclair, owner of Sinclair Salmon Company. His simple manner and one-room abode had been most misleading. She never would have guessed the truth. Here she’d gone and told him what he already knew, that his was the largest, most profitable fishery in Alaska. He was a very successful man.
And then there was the most unexpected and somewhat strange hitch in the giddyup, the meeting she’d had with Benny Campbell, the owner of the Paradise Cove Chronicle. During the thirty-minute one-on-one, she’d learned that both he and his son, Paul, had loved her article on him and his plans for a solid future for all Alaskans, and that Paul had specifically requested her to write more articles on him along its lines. Benny may have been fooled, but Teresa knew the truth. When it came to Paul Campbell trying to continue a liaison, she doubted writing stories about the future of Alaska was all that he had on his mind. But his dad was clueless, even hinting at possible family alliances with the Drakes by her family becoming potential investors in the mining project that Paul had touted, a chance to get in on the ground floor and make a substantial amount of money. Lastly, she’d learned that one of the staunchest opponents to the proposed location for the mines was the owner of one of the businesses that would be most affected—Atka Sinclair. This knowledge was the one thing that finally made her thankful that he was so far away, instead of hovering over her thighs in bed as, more than once since returning to PC, she’d imagined.
Teresa dressed with care for the evening’s formal dance, thankful for an evening of dancing and hobnobbing to get her mind off work...and all that other stuff. In between steadies, Terrell would be flying solo, as well, at the dance with three of his college buddies. He’d warned her against dating any of them long ago. But they still could be counted on for helping her have a really good time, injured ankle notwithstanding.
That night at the dance, that’s exactly what she was doing when Niko brought someone over for her to meet. She danced—translated: swayed on two crutches—with one of Terrell’s buds, reliving their teen years with a little stepping in the name of love. He’d ended the dance with a spin and a dip sending one of her crutches flying. When she came up out of an elaborate bend, she looked right into eyes that had haunted her dreams. The eyes of Atka Sinclair.
If not for those unforgettable orbs, she wouldn’t have known him right away. He was new and improved, much improved, much different from the man she had left on the frontier. Clean-shaven—the way she liked—hair groomed, dressed immaculately in a single-breasted tuxedo. He looked comfortable and commanding in a room filled with wealth and privilege. She blinked to make sure that what she gazed at was real and not a figment of her overactive imagination. She was not imagining things. Atka was real. And he was here, standing next to a smiling Niko. Atka was not smiling. A stunned Teresa wavered between wanting to throw her arms around his neck and stepping around the two of them and waltzing out of the building. But Drakes didn’t run. Drakes got answers. With the myriad of questions ping-ponging inside her head, she’d need a lot of them.
“Hey!” Niko high-fived Terrell’s friend, the one who’d been dancing with Teresa. He retrieved her crutch and placed it under her arm. “I see you still got it, man!”
“You know—” the cocky man popped his collar “—I do what I can.”
Her dance partner reached for Teresa’s hand and kissed it. Teresa noted Atka’s subtle shift and tightening jaw. She especially noticed it now that his face was void of scruffy beard and mustache, fully exposing the lips that had done incredible things to both sets of hers. These thoughts were hidden behind a pleasant smile as she kept her eyes on her oblivious dance partner.
He went on, unaware of the storm swirling around him. “Helps to be dancing with the most beautiful lady in the room. Even on crutches, your sister makes any man look good.”
Terrell, who was standing a few feet away, picked up on his twin’s strained countenance and called his friend over, leaving Teresa alone with Atka and Niko.
“Teresa, I’d like you to meet a potential business partner of mine. He’s from Alaska. I told him you were just there. Atka Sinclair, meet my sister, Teresa. Sis, this is Atka Sinclair. His name means—”
“Guardian angel.”
Clearly a response Niko wasn’t expecting. “How did you know that?”
“He didn’t tell you? We met in Dillingham. He was my guardian angel, the one who rescued me when I hurt my foot.”
Niko’s face went from surprise to suspicion. “No.” He looked at Atka directly. “He didn’t say a word about it.”
Unlike some men, Atka didn’t shrink under Niko’s intense glare. Rather, he met the mayor’s gaze and held it. “The entire time that I helped your sister, I had no idea who she was. Other than that her name was Teresa. She didn’t provide a last name or much else about herself, and nothing at all about her family.” He looked from Niko to Teresa. “Now I believe I know why.”
“I’m sure you do.” Teresa’s demeanor was as unruffled as a porcelain feather. “Probably the same reason you didn’t reveal your last name either, or tell me that you were a business mogul.”
“A good thing, since I rarely talk to journalists, especially those nosing around my business while cavorting with the politician trying to dismantle it. I guess secrecy is a part of what makes you good at your job.”
Teresa rose up on her crutches, back straight, chin high. “Are you implying that I purposely misled you? Like I told you when we met, I don’t need to employ
underhand tactics to get a story and I am still very good at my job.”
“Obviously. You look to be the type of woman who possesses many talents. From what I saw just a moment ago, dancing is one of them. I’ll leave you to it.” He turned to Niko. “Thanks for the formal introduction.” Then back to her. Curt nod. “Teresa.”
Niko and Teresa watched Atka cross the room. Similar to his exit at the restaurant in Anchorage, she also noticed they weren’t the only ones watching. Several eligible ladies charted his movements with hungry eyes.
After several seconds, Niko turned to his sister. “Would you like to tell me what all that was about?”
“Not right now.”
Teresa hobbled away as gracefully as possible, without waiting for Niko’s response. She strolled, if one could call it that, at a casual yet determined pace to catch up with Atka. Drakes didn’t cower. They didn’t run. And they rarely let an argument end before winning it.
Chapter 10
After waiting impatiently for a break in the conversation between Atka and a PC businessman and his wife whom Teresa had known since childhood, she made her move. There was a brief yet polite greeting to the couple before turning to Atka. “May I speak with you for a moment?”
“Not if it’s the journalist making the request.”
Teresa took a step toward him. Her face held a smile. Her voice cut like a dagger. “If you don’t want this night to turn ugly and your visit cut short, you’ll meet me outside in five minutes.”
“And if you think I’d ever respond to a threat like that, then I’ve overestimated your intelligence.”
Had someone lit a match between them right now, a blaze would have erupted. Eyes glared. Jaws clenched. The energy between them was so raw and electric that, had the power gone out, it could have lit up the room. Yet few, if any, were aware of the drama unfolding between swirling silk and taffeta and tailored tuxedos.
His eyes darkened with anger and, Teresa wondered...desire? They lowered from her eyes to her lips back up to just above her brow. “I’m staying at the Inn at Paradise Cove. Room 107. Meet me there.”
Teresa’s mouth tightened.
His jaw softened. “Please.”
He turned and walked out of the ballroom without a backward glance or goodbye to anyone. It wasn’t until he left the room that her breathing returned along with some of her senses. She was aware that eyes were on her, and wondered how much of the terse exchange had been witnessed by the crowd. She raised a hand to her upswept hairdo, patting it in place as she slyly glanced around. A couple women she’d seen taking particular interest in Atka were eyeing her curiously, mouths moving behind raised palms. A few others had noted Atka’s focused exit. Teresa imagined the stories concocted as a result of what anyone thought they saw couldn’t possibly compare to the truth behind the short and fiery history she had with Atka Sinclair.
Once again, her twin saved her. Linking his arm with hers, he said through a smile. “Looks like I need to get you out of here. You can thank me later.”
They chatted, nodded greetings and shared small talk with a number of guests, on their way to a hallway that led to a side door. Once away from the crowd, Terrell lost the fake smile.
“Okay, what in the hell just happened in there?”
“You witnessed the second evening of a one-night stand.”
“Come again?”
“Exactly.”
“Teresa. Speak English.”
“Atka Sinclair, one of the businessmen Niko invited to the consortium, is the man who rescued me.”
“In Alaska?”
“Impossible, right? I mean, what are the chances?”
“Are you sure it’s by chance?”
“Trust me, I’ve been thinking the same thing. But short of a detective who was also psychic, there is no way it could have been known that I’d fall into a crevice at whatever o’clock, with no one around but Atka to rescue me. By the way, he’s just as convinced that I knew his identity and set him up to get a good story for the paper or, who knows, to do intel for Niko.”
“He can’t be serious. That’s not how you work.”
“He doesn’t know that. Which is why you’ve got to cover for me in case Mom or Dad come looking and I’m not around.”
Terrell frowned. “Why, where are you going?”
“Nowhere, unless I can get a car. Can you help me?”
“Are you going to meet him?”
“Yes, and don’t start with advice I’ve not asked for. I’ll be careful, and discreet. But I’ve got to do this.”
His look was one of concern. But all he said was, “wait in that little storage room by the door. I’ll secure a car.”
Ten minutes later, Teresa drove from the country club to the other side of town where the community’s lone hotel had been built two years ago. After a quick look around, she exited the car and hurried to the last door on the second of two floors.
It was as if Atka had been standing right by the door. She barely had to knock. She walked in without speaking, then turned to face him.
“Thank you for coming.”
“I had to. We weren’t done.”
His once-over elicited an involuntary shiver. “No, we’re not.”
Teresa ignored her body and his eyes, determined to get the answers she came for. He’d removed his jacket and bow tie, and rolled up the sleeves of his stark white tuxedo shirt. He’d obviously run a hand through now-disheveled hair, giving him a delicious, devilish look. Focus, Teresa. F-O-C-U-S. “How did you meet my brother?”
“I’ll answer all your questions. But only off the record. I don’t want anything mentioned in this conversation to be printed in the paper. Give me your word, and I’ll give you...whatever you came for.”
“This conversation will remain between us.”
He nodded, motioned toward a seat. “Would you like to sit down?”
She did.
“I was contacted by Bryce Clinton, Paradise Cove’s city planner, and Mitch Goldstein, who organized the consortium. I met Mitch almost three years ago when my company began the final steps toward taking our patented methods of organic, sustainable salmon farming to locations across the state and elsewhere. He encouraged us to consider Paradise Cove as one of these locations. We are doing that, which is one of the main reasons why I’m here.”
She cocked her head, her expression angry. “And the other?”
“You.”
His look sent a shock wave through her body that made it hard not to squirm. In this instant, the barrier of denial that had kept the desire she’d felt for him at bay began to unravel.
“After you left, I spent a couple days in our Bristol Bay offices. While there, the manager became upset while reading an article on Paul Campbell, the candidate whose money-driven, shortsighted goals include not only disrupting a way of life for thousands of people, but bringing irrevocable harm to the environment. For years we’ve fought against the argument that suggests large-scale mining in Bristol Bay would benefit its citizens. It will not. But I’d rather not do the same as I’m sure Paul did, fill your mind with a bunch of my own opinions. I’d rather you be the journalist, do the research and draw your own conclusions.”
She took a deep breath. “That’s fair enough.”
“I have a question for you.” He relaxed a bit, as well, and came to sit on the bed facing the chair by the desk where she sat.
“Okay.”
“Was it coincidence that you were in Dillingham? Or did you know about my company and came to do research, perhaps to take back to Paul Campbell’s father, who I understand owns the paper where you work.”
“Seriously, Atka?” Teresa forgot her injured foot and jumped up in anger, winced and grabbed the table behind her but remained standing. Atka was up in an instant
, his arms around her to hold her upright.
She pushed him away. “You think I fell into a hole and almost broke my ankle just to get next to the owner of a salmon company and spy for Paul Campbell?”
“The thought is about as asinine as my sleeping with you to get next to a man I don’t know living in a town I’d not visited and, until meeting you, couldn’t have cared less about beyond the business he and I could possibly do together.”
Silence descended as each absorbed what the other had said.
She sat back down. “I thought crazy scenarios like this only happened in movies or romance novels.”
“Well, you are a writer.”
“A journalist, not a novelist. And someone who has misjudged you as wrongly as you have me.”
Atka reached for her hand. “Then you know where that leaves us.”
“Where?”
“At the crossroads of divine order.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Our meeting was inevitable. Call it fate, coincidence, whatever. One of those instances where truth is stranger than fiction. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Teresa. Every day since you’ve left, you’ve been on my mind. I was originally scheduled to fly in tomorrow and only attend the business meetings on Monday and Tuesday. When I found out you were Niko’s sister, I changed my plans. I wanted to get here as soon as possible and find out if our meeting was purely accidental and, if indeed it was, to determine if what happened between us that night was a one-time connection, or something that could be recreated over and over again.”
Teresa’s countenance softened. “I’ve thought about you, too.”
Atka smiled, revealing the dimple that when Teresa had met him in Alaska his scruffy beard had all but hidden. “A little...or a lot?”
She shrugged. “Just a fleeting thought while writing about Alaska.”