On Thursday, she was free of Rod's oppressive presence all morning, and at two that afternoon he telephoned. "This meeting is dragging on forever, and it looks like I won't get in all day," he told her. "Anything important happening there?"
Leslie relayed a couple of messages and told him there were a few letters that required his attention.
"Just put them on my desk," he instructed. "I may stop in sometime this evening." After another word or two, he broke the connection.
Leslie carried the letters he needed to see into his office and placed them on his desk. There was also a blue envelope marked "personal" that she had left unopened. She couldn't help but notice that its postmark was London or that it smelled faintly of perfume. Poor, unenlightened woman, she thought scornfully, trying to impress Rod Castle with such an obvious feminine wile as that. Then, with a tiny shrug, she dropped the letter on top of the pile, left the room, and promptly forgot about his love life.
Depression grew on her during the afternoon. Tomorrow was the deadline Joel and his wife had set for receiving the money they demanded. She knew that Rod would pay, but the thought only made her feel worse.
Patsy telephoned around four to say she had a date that night and would not be home until late. Leslie forced herself to sound cheerful, but the truth was she could not face going home to an empty apartment and being alone with her morose thoughts.
In the end, she went into Ellen's office next door and invited her to go out to dinner. Ellen was at loose ends for the evening herself, so she agreed at once.
The outing was exactly what Leslie needed. At the North Beach Italian restaurant where they ate they met a couple of girl friends of Ellen's who invited them back to their apartment for wine and cheese. The other girls were high-spirited and fun, and gradually Leslie shook off the cares of the past week and enjoyed herself.
It was after eleven when she took a cab back to the apartment. The night was dark and she made her way cautiously across the lawn toward the stairs. Patsy obviously had not come home because there was no light burning in the living room window. She began to ascend the stairs, feeling her way up one probing foot at a time. She was nearing the top when a black form suddenly detached itself from the shadows. Leslie's heart stopped and her throat ached with a scream.
"Leslie, is it you?" the form asked.
"Who… who is it?"
"Rod Castle."
Leslie went limp and then she was wildly furious. "Don't you have anything better to do than jump out at people on a dark stairway?" she hissed. "You terrified me!"
"Sorry," he said without the slightest vestige of apology coating his voice. "Look, I've been sitting here waiting for you for over two hours. I'm cold and stiff. Now are you going to invite me in? I have to talk to you."
Leslie brushed past him to the landing, fished in her purse for her key, and opened the door. A moment later she switched on a lamp, and when she turned she found that Rod Castle had followed her into the room and was closing the door.
He rubbed his hands briskly over his arms. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt but no jacket.
"You are chilled," Leslie murmured. "I'll make some coffee."
"Thanks. I'd appreciate that," he told her. Again he followed her as she went into the kitchen and began filling the coffeepot.
She threw him a sideways glance as she took cups and saucers from the cupboard. His face was grim and rather white beneath the stark kitchen light and Leslie's heart skipped a beat. Something was very wrong and it could only be about one thing.
"There's some hitch about Joel and the money," she said flatly. She placed sugar and cream on the small kitchen table, then looked at him expectantly.
"Not at all," he surprised her by saying. "In fact, I have very good news about that." He glanced toward the stove. "Is that coffee ready yet?"
"Almost. Sit down, Mr. Castle, and tell me what all this is about."
He pulled out a chair and sat down, leaning one elbow on the table and propping his head against it as he looked up at her. "Our detective hit the jackpot. Earlier this evening he and a couple of police officers paid a visit to a small motel where your friends were staying. They had a search warrant and they found the negatives." He reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out a small envelope, and threw it on the table. "Here they are. You need to burn them."
Leslie stared at the envelope in disbelief. "You mean," she asked incredulously, with rising hope, "that it's over? You won't have to pay?"
Rod grinned. "That's exactly what I mean. These characters had quite a few similar deals in the works, including a couple in which they actually got the money. Later the victims thought it over and went to the police with their stories, so as of now they are behind bars and likely to remain there for some time to come. The detective managed to get the negatives for us because he was instrumental in helping the police locate the gang and because they've got enough of a case against them from victims who actually paid. So"—he shrugged,—"end of problem."
Leslie sat down in stunned silence as her reeling brain tried to assimilate this sudden swing of events. Rod Castle stood up, went to the stove, and returned to pour their coffee.
When he sat down once more, Leslie said shakily, "Oh, Mr. Castle, I… I'm so glad… so happy! Thank you!" She picked up the negatives and turned them over in her hand. "I'll burn these tonight!" She sucked in a deep breath. "It's such a relief to know that no one will ever see these. I…" She swallowed hard, then went on, "If there's anything I can ever do to repay you for helping me, for the trouble I caused you, I…" She broke off, unable to continue.
Rod Castle was no longer smiling. Once again his face was grim and hard and there was a curious pallor to his skin. Their eyes met, held, and it seemed as though the intensity in his gaze might consume her. "There is something you can do for me," he said slowly.
"Anything," Leslie promised rashly.
His lips parted into a humorless smile. "You may not be so eager when you hear what it is." He paused and gazed at her thoughtfully, then he said very clearly, very concisely, "I want you to marry me."
Color faded from Leslie's cheeks, leaving her face a deathly white. "You… you're joking, of course," she said at last.
Rod shook his head. "I was never more serious." His hands circled his coffee cup. "Let me explain."
"Please do," she invited weakly.
"I'm sure you know much of what I'm going to say already. Office grapevines have a way of keeping such stories alive." He picked up his spoon and idly stirred his coffee. "Several years ago I was engaged to a certain young woman. Two weeks before our wedding she jilted me and married an Italian industrialist." His mouth twisted into a bitter smile. "The man was much older than Estelle, but, then, he also had much more money than I." His voice was toneless as he added, "You've heard all this, of course."
Leslie nodded. "Yes, Mr. Castle, I've heard the story."
"Rod," he corrected irritably. "You can't be so formal to a man who has just proposed to you."
"I don't see why not," she countered reasonably. "It's not as if you proposed for the usual reasons. In fact, I still don't understand your reasons. What has all this ancient history to do with me?"
Rod grimaced. "The ancient history is rising up to haunt me. Today I received a letter from Estelle. Her husband died last month. She's in England right now staying with friends and she'll probably be there another couple of months, but then she's coming back to San Francisco to live."
"And?" Leslie prompted.
His shoulders rose and fell as he shrugged once more. "She says she's missed me a great deal, that she made a mistake when she didn't marry me, and that she is looking forward to seeing me again."
"And you don't want to see her again?"
Rod gave a short laugh. "That will be unavoidable, I'm afraid. We move within the same social circle."
Leslie studied him thoughtfully. "You're still in love with her, aren't you?"
Rod's abrupt laugh held a bitte
r note. "I'm not sure whether it's love or hate. I know I once thought I loved her. Since then…" He gave a shrug. "All I know for certain is that I'm not ready to pick up where we left off, and that's where you come in."
Leslie nodded. "A wife would put a protective shield between you and Estelle, is that it?"
"You catch on fast." His voice grew tense. "Well, what's your answer?"
Leslie could no longer meet his eyes. She lowered her gaze to his large, capable-looking hands. From the strength of them, one would assume that there was no situation Rod Castle could not handle, yet right now she was glimpsing a vulnerable side to him. This Estelle had hurt him dreadfully, and Dave Hammond had even hinted that his own mother had in some way hurt him as well. Between them, despite his appearance of supreme confidence and control, they had left him unsure of himself when it came to loving one woman and it had resulted in his ruthless love-'em-and-leave-'em reputation with women since. Now he felt he needed an armor against Estelle's appeal.
"Why me?" Leslie raised her head and asked bluntly. "Why not one of the ladies you currently date?"
Rod shook his head. "Until today I had no thought of marrying anyone. Frankly I don't think much of the institution of marriage and I don't want to get entangled in an emotional involvement with any woman. You owe me a favor as you acknowledged yourself. Besides, I figure after this fiasco with Maddox, you're not exactly looking for love either, so you seemed to be the most likely candidate for my requirements."
Leslie shuddered at such a cold-blooded attitude. "What exactly would you require of me?"
"Merely to give a surface appearance of a model marriage. You'd be my hostess, of course, and very visible in the social side of my life. Privately, I'll ask nothing of you, and after a year or two you can go your way and I'll go mine."
He had a point, Leslie conceded to herself, about romance. At the moment she cringed at the idea of ever giving her love to another man, only to have him, too, trample on it. And she did owe Rod Castle a favor after embroiling him in such a nasty scheme. If she had to choose a man as trustworthy, she would choose him. He had proved that during this past week, and surely that characteristic was a better indication of a good marriage partner than that erratic and indiscriminate emotion called love. The idea of marriage with him was distasteful, but perhaps they could make a successful alliance based on cold reality rather than passionate illusions. Either way, she felt she had no choice. He had helped her when she needed him; now it was her turn to pay her dues. Slowly, she nodded. "All right. I'll marry you."
Chapter Three
"What did you say?" Patsy shrieked, for once shaken completely from her serenity.
Leslie, smiling at the outburst, kept her own voice level. "You heard me. I'm going to marry Rod Castle."
"Why?" Patsy asked in bewilderment. "And don't feed me a cock-and-bull line about love because I won't buy it for a minute."
"You won't?"
"No, darn it, I won't!" Patsy snapped.
Leslie giggled. "But haven't you ever heard stories about people suddenly discovering that they love each other and…"
"I've heard of love at first sight, but I certainly don't believe that after working together for three years you and your boss suddenly discovered any such thing. You'd better," she added threateningly, "tell me the truth, Les."
Leslie dropped the teasing, which she had been unable to resist after stirring up her usually unflappable friend. "I intend to," she said now. Quickly she outlined what had happened the evening before, while Patsy listened with frowning intensity.
When she had finished, Patsy said, "Let me see if I've got this straight. Because he got you out of a jam, you are going to marry Rod Castle just because his ex is returning? Les, that's just about the dumbest thing I ever heard of in my life!"
Leslie shrugged. In the cold morning light it did sound ridiculous. "It's not as though it's forever," she defended herself. "Just for a year or so at the most. Just until Rod has had time to get used to the idea of Estelle being around again. Too, probably by the time we get the divorce, she'll have some other man on the string and won't want to bother him again."
"You're marrying the man just to save his pride!" Patsy accused.
"Yes," Leslie agreed, "but isn't that exactly what he did for me by getting those negatives back? You're forgetting that Rod bailed me out when I needed him, Pat! All I'm doing is paying him back."
"It's insane! Whatever happened to Levelheaded Leslie? If you do this thing, you're going to upset your folks a heck of a lot worse than that picture thing, Les! Marrying without love!"
"They won't be upset because they won't know the truth," Leslie said firmly. "I intend for them to think it's normal in every way, and you'd better not let them know differently."
"And what about when you file for divorce?" Patsy asked shrewdly. "How do you think they'll feel then?"
"It'll disappoint them," Leslie acknowledged, "but they'll just have to get over it. Lots of marriages fail these days." She shoved back her chair and stood up, gathering dishes from the clutter on the table. Sometimes she wished Patsy didn't always go straight to the heart of the matter like she did. The niggling thought of how her parents would react to a divorce when it happened was already bothering her, but she had given Rod her word and she would go through with it, no matter what.
Last night, after she had accepted his unorthodox proposal, they had talked until almost one o'clock before he finally left. They had agreed that the marriage would be limited to a reasonable span of time so that eventually they would both be free, but in the meantime everyone was to believe it was the real thing. Everyone except Patsy. Leslie had explained to Rod that there would be no point in even attempting to deceive her, and she had been correct, but with the way Patsy was glaring disapprovingly at her right now, she wished she had not been obliged to tell her the truth. It hurt, having Patsy so against her just when she needed her support the most.
Leslie and Rod had made a date to have dinner together that evening so they could work out their plans in more detail. Once again Leslie was still dressing in her bedroom when Rod arrived, and again Patsy did not call her. When she entered the living room, she found Rod and Patsy engaged in a serious discussion, only this time there were no pleasantries involved.
"I wish Leslie had never set eyes on you!" Patsy was saying heatedly. "A marriage like this can only wreck her life!"
Rod, dressed impeccably in a dark business suit, was cool and controlled. "I appreciate your concern over Leslie's welfare," he replied. "It shows what a loyal friend you are to her. But I promise you, Patsy, I have no intentions of ever hurting Leslie in any way whatsoever, so I can't see how I could wreck her life."
"You will, though," Patsy predicted, "and I care about her too much to want to see that happen."
"What can happen to harm her?" Rod asked. "It's a business arrangement between us. Leslie isn't going into this with her eyes closed. She's of legal age and she knows exactly what she's doing."
"No, she doesn't! She…"
Leslie felt it was time to intervene. "Pat, it's all right," she said soothingly. "Honest. Rod's right. I know what I'm doing."
Patsy's green eyes blazed. "No, you don't, Les. You know you always dreamed of a romantic wedding when Mr. Right came along and now you're throwing all that away."
"After Joel," Leslie said drily, "I think I'm cured of looking for Mr. Right, Patsy, so what difference does it make? Look, we'll discuss this again tomorrow."
She moved with swift determination toward the door, intent on escape from Patsy's wrath, and after a moment Rod followed.
He switched on the dome light once they were inside the car and turned to look searchingly at her. "Am I taking you away from your dream of a romantic wedding with Mr. Right?'"
She felt a sudden nervousness at the penetrating intensity of his gaze. "No, of… of course not," she said haltingly. "Like I said inside, I'm not sure such a person exists anymore."
"Maddox's
work," Rod said curtly.
Leslie nodded. Tears stung her eyes and she blinked rapidly to get rid of them. "Yes. When you trust a person and he doesn't measure up, you grow a little wary."
"Yes," he agreed in a flat voice. "You do indeed." Leslie realized he was thinking about Estelle. Now, unexpectedly, he reached out a hand and lifted her chin so that their eyes met. "I'm not wary about us, though, Leslie," he said gently. "And I meant what I said to Patsy. I have no intentions of hurting you, not ever. I want us to be the best of good friends."
She nodded slowly, and then she forced herself to ask the one question that had been bothering her. "Do good friends—that is, nonemotionally involved people… do they…" She broke off as soft color stole into her cheeks.
"Do they go to bed together?" he said, reading her mind. As she nodded again, he shook his head. "That's the quickest route to emotional involvement I know of," he told her. "No, you don't need to worry about that. When the marriage ends, I don't want any regrets or recriminations on either side." In a heartier tone, he added, "Well, now we've got that settled, shall we go? I thought I'd take you to my house for dinner so you can look the place over, since you'll soon be living there. Is that all right with you?"
"That's fine," she answered. Now that the future arrangements between them had been settled, she could look forward to the evening without dread.
Leslie had been to Rod's large home near Telegraph Hill a couple of times for dinner whenever it had been a business gathering and he had needed an extra woman, but she had never seen the entire house and now she could not help but be curious about it.
It was a two-storied brick, set back off a quiet residential street and screened by thick shrubs. Rod opened the front door and Leslie preceded him into the wide, marble foyer.
"Good evening, Miss Foster. It's so nice to see you again." Seemingly from out of thin air, Rod's houseman appeared. He was a young Chinese-American named Benny Chen whom Leslie had met on the occasions she had previously visited the house.
Shadow of Love Page 4