A Rich Man's Touch

by Mather, Anne

  ‘Is it?’ Rachel hadn’t realised it was so hot. She’d imagined her rise in temperature was due to circumstances, but now she felt relieved. ‘How about a Coke? That’s Hannah’s favourite.’

  ‘Sounds good to me.’

  Joe didn’t look at her as he spoke and Rachel went to take a bottle from the fridge. Perhaps he had taken the hint, she thought, hoping it was so. She didn’t want to fall out with him. He’d been enormously helpful since she opened the cafe, keeping the electrical appliances in good working order, arranging for her to have a dishwasher plumbed into the kitchen. But she had paid him for his services, she defended herself firmly. She hadn’t asked for any handouts.

  ‘How does it look?’ she enquired a few minutes later when he paused to take a drink from the bottle of Coke she had set beside him. ‘Is it bad?’

  ‘It’s not good,’ conceded Joe, regarding her with cool appraising eyes. Td say you definitely need a replacement.’

  Oh, Lord!’ It was what she had feared he was going to say and the grain of hope she’d kept alive flickered and died. ‘So what do I do now?’

  She hadn’t really been talking to him. She’d posed the question to herself as she struggled to come to terms with the bad news. But Joe chose to take it personally, and he crossed his arms over his midriff and said, ‘Do you want me to help you?’

  Rachel hesitated. ‘You mean, with one of the ovens from Chadwick’s Bakery?’ she asked cautiously, and Joe gave her a considering stare.

  There is another alternative, ‘he said, and Rachel gazed at him with enquiring eyes. ‘I’ve got a bit of money put by,’ he went on. ‘I might be persuaded to invest it with you. Both these ovens are old. The whole place needs a makeover.’

  Rachel could hardly hide her astonishment. ‘You mean, you’d be prepared to lend me the money to renovate the kitchens?’ She shook her head. ‘Oh, Joe, that’s really kind of you, but I couldn’t afford to pay off another loan. If the bank would increase my overdraft, I might—’

  ‘Who said anything about a loan?’ he interrupted her. ‘I’m talking about a partnership, Rachel. You need money; I’ve got it. What could be simpler?’

  Oh, no.’ Rachel spoke hurriedly, before he could imagine she was thinking about it. That is...’ She didn’t want to offend him, but how else could she tell him that there was no way she’d consider going into partnership with him? ‘It’s very good of you to offer, Joe, but—well, this is my business. I want to keep it that way.’ ‘So what’s your solution?’

  He was belligerent now, and she wondered if this day could possibly get any worse.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said, hoping to reason with him. ‘I mean, if you could let me have one of those ovens you’re dismantling, I might be able to persuade Mr Lawrence that it would be worth his while to support me. After all, the bank isn’t going to get the money I already owe them if I go out of business, are they?’ she added, with a forced laugh.

  ‘I may have another buyer for the ovens I’m taking out of Chadwick’s,’ responded Joe shortly. The last time we talked about it you said it would cause too much upset to pull the old oven out.’

  That was before—’

  She had been going to say before the oven broke down again, but Joe second-guessed her. ‘Before old man Webb started taking an interest in you,’ he accused. ‘I know. I saw him follow you out of the church hall on Saturday.’

  Rachel’s jaw dropped. ‘I was going to say, that was before I found myself in this mess,’ she contradicted him hotly. ‘And I don’t think my friendship with Mr Webb has anything to do with you.’

  ‘Friendship? Is that what you call it?’Joe was scathing. ‘Don’t you have the sense to realise that what he really wants is a taste of whatever it was his son got from you?’ Rachel gasped. ‘How dare you?’

  ‘I dare because I care about you,’ retorted Joe, red-faced himself now. ‘Dammit, Rachel, I don’t want to hurt you, but you don’t honestly think it’s your scintillating conversation he’s after, do you?’

  Rachel felt sick. ‘What do you think he’s after, Joe?’ she asked unsteadily.’I’d like to know.’

  ‘You do know,’ he muttered, putting down the Coke he had been cradling against his hip and coming towards her. ‘Oh, Rachel, he wants to get into your bed, of course. Or get you into his.’ His hands closed on her stiff shoulders and he gave her a cajoling shake. ‘You know I’m right.’

  ‘Get your hands off me!’

  Rachel couldn’t bear to have him touch her, and she would have jerked away. But he wouldn’t let her. His hands clung tenaciously to her upper arms, and although she turned her head aside, he bent and tried to fasten his mouth to hers.

  Come on, Rachel,’ he whispered, his wet mouth against her hot cheek. ‘You know you want this just as much as I do.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘I really don’t think she does.’

  The cool sardonic tones were marvellously familiar, and Rachel managed to twist her head round far enough to see Gabriel standing just inside the cafe doorway, his shoulder propped against the jamb.

  Joe had heard him, too, and recognised the mocking note in Gabriel’s voice, and now he swung round, his face assuming an ugly belligerence. ‘Who asked your opinion?’ he snarled. ‘And what are you doing here anyway? I’m pretty sure Rachel wouldn’t have invited me if she’d known you were coming.’

  Gabriel straightened away from the door. He had changed his clothes since that morning, Rachel noticed. Now he was wearing a dark grey suit in fine wool that, despite its obvious designer label, hung on his leaner frame. And, although he had spoken confidently enough, his features now drew together in a frown.

  ‘Did you invite him, Rachel?’ he asked, arching a dark brow, and Rachel gave a weary nod of her head.

  ‘Yes,’ but-’

  ‘So that’s all you need to know, pal,’ broke in Joe, stepping round the counter in a decidedly threatening manner. ‘Rachel doesn’t need you. She has plenty of friends to look after her interests. Friends who don’t expect favours for helping her out.’ ‘Like you, you mean?’

  To Rachel’s consternation, Gabriel seemed undeterred by the other man’s aggression, and Joe bristled now with indignation. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘I should have thought it was fairly obvious,’ drawled Gabriel, taking a deliberate step forward. ‘What favours were you expecting for—what was it you said?—helping Rachel out?’

  ‘Why, you-’

  Joe would have tried to grab the lapels of Gabriel’s jacket then if Rachel hadn’t flown round the counter and grasped his arm. ‘Are you crazy?’ she demanded, and Joe turned to give her an angry look.

  ‘What? Are you defending him?’ he exclaimed, trying to shake her off as he would a worrying puppy. ‘He insulted me. I don’t let anyone insult me. Least of all jerks like him. Not even to please you.’

  ‘And what are you going to do about it?’ cried Rachel impatiently. ‘Hit him? Beat him up?’Her eyes flicked briefly to Gabriel’s cool indifferent face. ‘I can just see the headlines now: ‘Business Tycoon Attacked by Local Man. Joe Collins, whose electrical repair company depends on commercial support, up in court for striking an influential member of the business community.’

  ‘Yeah, right. Go ahead and destroy your future, why don’t you?’

  Joe wrenched his arm away from her now, but he didn’t make any move towards Gabriel. Instead, he moved back to lounge against the counter behind him, arms extended at either side as if to show that, although he’d thought better of attacking anyone, he was still in control.

  ‘Rachel’s right,’ he said scornfully. ‘I don’t have half the town council in my pocket. Why should I risk losing my business for a creep like you?’

  Gabriel rocked back on his heels. ‘I still think you should leave.’he said steadily. ‘Unless Rachel was just putting on a show for my benefit.’

  Rachel’s face burned. ‘Joe came to look at one of the ovens.’ she said, ignoring the
younger man’s attempt to silence her. ‘He—he’d just told me I needed anew oven before you arrived.’

  ‘And he was—what? Comforting you?’ enquired Gabriel dispassionately, and Rachel wanted to hit him now. ‘No.’she said sharply. ‘He—’ She turned to look at Joe and then away again. ‘He was just leaving.’

  ‘Rachel!’Joe straightened, the flush he had acquired earlier deepening to an unhealthy puce. ‘For God’s sake, Rachel, you don’t really want me to leave, do you?’ And when she didn’t answer he added, ‘If I go, I won’t be coming back.’

  I’m sorry, Joe.’she said, turning away, and with a muttered oath he went to collect his toolbox before striding angrily out of the cafe.

  Gabriel stepped aside as he stormed past, but Joe didn’t even look at him. Rachel was sure he blamed her for what had happened even more than he blamed Gabriel, and she dreaded to think what her mother would say when she heard about this.

  The door slammed behind him and for a few moments there was an uneasy silence in the room. And then Rachel gathered herself together sufficiently to round the counter again and stare in some consternation at the mess Joe had left. He had dismantled the controls of the oven before deciding there was nothing he could do and he’d left all the bits and pieces, the screws and switches and strips of metal, all over the floor.

  This is the faulty oven, I presume?’

  She had been unaware that Gabriel had come to stand beside her until he spoke. ‘I—yes,’ she answered unwillingly, hoping he didn’t think she wanted any help from him. Tin going to have to find another electrician.’

  ‘I thought you said Collins told you it was beyond repair?’

  ‘Well, he did.’ Rachel hesitated. ‘But I suppose I ought to get a second opinion, anyway.’

  ‘Why?’ Gabriel looked down at her with dark hooded eyes. ‘Because you suspect he might have had another agenda? One that included a certain amount of—what shall we call it? Give and take?’

  Rachel’s hand lashed out before she could stop it, but, whatever else was wrong with him, Gabriel’s reflexes responded with admirable speed. Almost unhurriedly, it seemed, he caught Rachel’s wrist on its upward trajectory, preventing the slap she’d wanted to deliver from connecting with his face. ‘I don’t think so, do you?’ he asked softly. ‘You may think I’m a poor excuse for a man, but I draw the line at being assaulted for asking what seems to me to be a perfectly reasonable question.’

  Rachel clenched her teeth to prevent her jaw from trembling. ‘Reasonable?’ she got out, wondering if he realised how close to breaking down she was. ‘You were implying I was letting Joe—letting him take advantage of me because of—because I needed his help.’

  ‘Hardly.’ Gabriel released her wrist and expelled a weary sigh. ‘As a matter of fact, I was agreeing with you. I think you should have another electrician take a look at the oven.’

  Rachel rubbed her wrist to restore the circulation and expelled a weary sigh. ‘If you say so,’ she muttered, feeling an idiot for accusing him. ‘Ill look in Yellow Pages.’

  Gabriel hesitated. ‘Perhaps you’d let me help you?’

  ‘No, thanks.’

  Rachel was already rummaging under the counter for the telephone directory and he shook his head. ‘Don’t blame me for your friend Joe’s indiscretions, Rachel,’ he said flatly. ‘He wasn’t exactly listening to reason when I walked in.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘So what’s wrong with me helping you find an alternative tradesman?’ His lips twisted. ‘I promise I won’t jump you if you say yes.’ Rachel permitted herself a covert look at his dark face. ‘You don’t have to help me.’

  ‘Dammit, I know that.’ Gabriel swore then. ‘For God’s sake, I have a staff of—I don’t know—maybe a dozen or more electricians working at the Kingsbridge plant. Why shouldn’t I ask one of them to come and give you their opinion of the oven?’

  Rachel hesitated. ‘Do you think one them would be willing to—?’ She broke off. ‘Of course they would. You pay their wages.’ The company does,’ he amended drily. ‘But, yes, I think I can promise you there’d be no objection.’ ‘And do you think they 11 know anything about ovens like these?’

  ‘Some of them must do,’ declared Gabriel. There are ovens in the canteen at the plant. I imagine they’re fairly familiar with their mechanics.’ Rachel straightened. ‘All right.’ She licked her dry lips. Thank you.’

  Gabriel breathed deeply for a moment and then produced a mobile phone from his pocket. He punched out a number and in a few short words he explained the position to someone at the plant. Probably the manager, thought Rachel wryly, as he put the phone away again. Someone had assured him that one of the employees would drop everything to come and examine an oven that had absolutely no connection to Webb’s Pharmaceuticals.

  One of the men will be here in about—’he glanced at his watch ‘—in about twenty minutes. Can you hang on that long?’

  Of course.’ Rachel cast an embarrassed look about her. Thanks. I appreciate it.’

  ‘No worries.’ Gabriel was dismissive. ‘Do you want me to go?’

  Rachel looked up at him. ‘I—that’s your decision.’

  ‘Is it?’His mouth turned down. ‘I just don’t want you to get the idea that I have some hope of taking up where Collins left off.’ ‘I don’t think that.’ Rachel made a helpless gesture. ‘Um—can I get you something, then? A cup of tea? Coffee?’

  ‘Why don’t we go across the road and I’ll buy something to calm you down?’ Gabriel suggested mildly. ‘You can leave a note on the door telling the electrician where you are.’

  ‘Oh, but—’ Rachel indicated the mess of screws and metal on the floor. ‘I thought I might clear this up.’

  ‘Why?’ Gabriel lifted his shoulders. ‘It’s going to have to be dismantled again, isn’t it? Leave it. You look—shattered.’

  Rachel felt shattered, but she sensed he meant something different from the way she felt. Her apron was smudged with oil now, and the hair at her temples was damp with sweat. She needed a shower and a change of clothes, and he probably would regret making the offer if she took him up on it.

  ‘I look a mess,’ she murmured, giving him the chance to pull out if he wanted to, and he gave a resigned sigh. ‘You don’t want to go for a drink?’ ‘I didn’t say that.’

  Okay.’ He gestured towards the door. Then let’s go before the electrician arrives and you decide you need to stay and supervise him instead.’

  Rachel shook her head, but she obediently pulled off her apron and cast a rueful glance down at her cream shirt and chocolate-brown shorts. Well, they were creased but they were clean, she consoled herself wryly. Even if they weren’t in the same league as Gabriel’s suit.

  The bar of the Golden Lion was busier this afternoon. Tourists filled many of the booths and she and Gabriel were forced to take two stools at the bar. It meant they’d have little chance for private conversation, she thought, but that was probably just as well. Just because he’d come back she shouldn’t start wondering if he’d meant what he said at lunchtime.

  ‘What can I get you, Mr Webb?’ The barman had recognised Gabriel and this time he noticed Rachel as well. ‘Nice to see you, too, Mrs Kershaw,’ he added, with a friendly grin, but Rachel cringed at the thought of how their association might be construed among his regulars.

  ‘I’ll have a beer, Jack,’ Gabriel replied, glancing her way. ‘And Mrs Kershaw will have a gin and tonic, thanks.’

  ‘Coming up.’

  The barman turned away to attend to their order and Rachel stared impatiently at the man beside her. ‘A gin and tonic?’ she echoed, her expression mirroring her dismay. ‘I drink orange juice, or had you forgotten?’

  ‘You drank wine at lunch yesterday,’ he reminded her coolly. ‘Besides, you need the alcohol. Trust me.’

  Rachel rested one elbow on the bar. ‘Do I have to remind you that I have a six-year-old waiting for me at home? What’s she going to think if I come in smell
ing of alcohol?’ ‘Buy a pack of peppermints,’ said Gabriel carelessly. ‘One gin and tonic is not going to make that much difference.’

  To you, maybe,’ retorted Rachel, fuelling her anger in a deliberate attempt to dispel the intimacy she felt in his presence. ‘Well, don’t expect me to drink it, that’s all.’

  ‘Why don’t you chill out?’ suggested Gabriel in a low voice, and before she could guess what he was about to do he leant towards her and deposited a warm kiss at the corner of her mouth. ‘Relax. You’ve had a rough day, that’s all.’

  Rachel stared at him. ‘Do you think—that—makes it any easier?’ she demanded, furious that he should choose to kiss her in front of all these people. ‘My God, anyone could have seen you!’

  ‘So what?’He was uncaring. ‘I’ve got nothing to hide.’ ‘You don’t mean that.’

  Of course I mean it.’ His eyes searched her face, lingering longest on her mouth. ‘Does that make me as bad as Collins in your eyes?’ ‘Actually it was what he said,’ she said shortly, hating herself for wanting to deny it, and he frowned. ‘Collins? He said I was as bad as he was?’

  ‘No.’ Rachel heaved an exasperated sigh. ‘He said—oh, it doesn’t matter what he said. I don’t want to think about him at all.’

  ‘I do.’ Their drinks were brought, and after a swift word to the barman Gabriel pushed her glass towards her. Tell me. I’d like to hear what he thinks about me.’ ‘And you’ll do what? Report him to the Chamber of Trade?’

  Gabriel gave her a retiring look. ‘I don’t do things like that. Contrary to what you think, I can fight my own battles when I have to.’ Rachel didn’t doubt it. He was no coward. Despite Joe’s aggression, Gabriel hadn’t backed down. ‘So?’ he persisted now, and, half-unthinking, she lifted her glass to her lips.

  As he had intimated, the unfamiliar spirit was instantly reviving and she licked a pearl of tonic from her lips before proceeding. ‘He—he seems to think you have designs on my body,’ she said, amazed at her own temerity, and Gabriel’s mouth curled in a lazy smile.