by Zana Bell
“Yeah, I do. I really like it.” She saw hope flare in those green depths and felt compelled to add, “It’s as if you gave up trying to be a professor and just wrote. I love the way you describe the birds as individual characters. It’s funny and touching.”
Jake set the pages in his hand on the table. “But it’s not what the publishers think they’re getting. It’s completely different from the early chapters.”
Sass leaned forward to make her point. “It’s way, way better.”
“You don’t find it…” he searched for words “…soft?”
She laughed. “So that’s it. Doesn’t fit your macho image, right?”
“Shaddup,” he growled, but his lips twitched. “So you honestly think it’s okay? I didn’t know what to think when the book started developing this life of its own. I tried to get back to my earlier style, but then everything became stilted—awful, really.”
“It’s infinitely better than the beginning.” Seeing his expression, she amended that quickly. “The first chapters were good, of course, but they’re just like all the other bird books I’ve never really wanted to read. This—” she tapped the pile in front of her “—is both funny and touching. Your descriptions of the bay are pretty damned poetic, too.”
He groaned. “For God’s sake, don’t tell the boys. They’ll never let me live that down.”
“So,” said Sass, getting down to business, “where are you at? You’ve got a lot here. Much more to write?”
He shook his head. “No, it’s just a short book. It needs more on the fledglings leaving the nest, and then a bit at the end, spelling out what needs to be done to save the terns. I guess I’ll also need to rewrite the first few chapters so they fit better stylistically. The biggest time waster will be typing up the handwritten sections and getting all my files in order. I’ve printed as I’ve gone, but it’s a shambles on the computer. Then, of course, I can’t write the final chapter until…”
Of course. He couldn’t write the final chapter until he knew the fate of the spit. In that moment, they slipped from warmth back to confrontation. This time it stung more than it had before. It wasn’t as though she personally wanted to murder his birds. But clearly, he’d hold her responsible for whatever happened to them.
“Jake, look, we’ll make provisions—fence the spit off, put up trespass signs.”
He shook his head. “You don’t get it. Their world is as fragile as their bodies. The slightest disturbances leave them vulnerable. For example, I saw in your plan that windsurfing and Jet Skis would be offered in the harbor.”
She shrugged. “Sure. What’s that got to do with their nesting?”
Jake laced his fingers together, leaning forward on his forearms. “The terns aren’t territorial about the land, but they are about the waters they fish in.”
“Yeah, I remember that part. You wrote that it’s almost possible to draw circles in the water, marking the fishing grounds of the pairs of parents.”
Jake nodded. “That’s right. They also won’t fish while there is any activity, especially human activity, near their territory. Think how that will affect them in the summer, when your resort is at its busiest and when, incidentally, the chicks hatch.”
“We can steer people away from those areas.”
Jake leaned back and shook his head. “And who’s going to monitor it, day in, day out? C’mon, Sass, I may have been naive about how much work four boys generate, but even I can see that a horde of holidaymakers, even those with the best of intentions, aren’t going to pay much mind to—how did you put it?—a handful of birds.”
Sass frowned. “There’ll be a way around this.”
“What?”
The word was bald, hard, uncompromising.
“I don’t know.” She was rattled to hear herself sounding defensive. “We could relocate the birds.”
“Yeah, we could try. It doesn’t have a high success rate, though. Remember, we are talking twenty percent of all the fairy terns in the world. Can’t afford to dick around too much with them.”
“Even so,” she said, “there’s got to be a solution. There always is.”
“There is. Don’t build the bloody resort.”
The silence between them was cold. Jake leaned back, watching her, his jaw set, arms once more folded across his chest.
“Look, Jake, I’m not here to destroy some bird families just for the hell of it.”
“No,” he conceded. “Not for the hell of it, perhaps, but certainly for a multimillion dollar resort.”
She knew it was pointless to go on at this moment. Wrap up, leave it on a positive note. She smiled disarmingly.
“Point taken. Thanks for letting me read your book. I learned a lot. It’s good, it’s really good.” He slanted a skeptical look at her and she laughed. “How about I offer to help organize this book while I’m here.”
His eyes narrowed. “Why would you do that?”
“A gesture of goodwill, as I said. To put my money where my mouth is. I think it’s a great book, but you’ve got no system to how you work. No patterns of organization. They’re my forte. We have an hour now before I need to get ready for the meeting. How about it?”
He was caught off guard. The start to winning people over was by acting contrary to their expectations. Get them doubting themselves. Sass didn’t feel bad. It was a promising book; she could help him. And if it helped her case, too, well, win-win.
“C’mon, Jake, surely you’ll find satisfaction in using me for your own ends.”
Unexpectedly, that did it. He laughed and uncrossed his arms. “You’re right. May as well use you while I can.”
“Great. I’ll go get my laptop.”
Sass left the room and for a second Jake stared after her. She’d seemed both so sincere and so wry in making her offer that he’d barely stopped himself from leaning forward to touch her hair. God, she was a dangerous opponent. He knew thoughts were spinning through that analytical brain of hers, but nothing registered on her smooth face. Part of him admired her control, part of him itched to smash it all to hell. But she was offering a truce. For the moment, he had to go with that. Be nice. Woo her into seeing Aroha Bay as they saw it. Outright opposition wouldn’t help.
Jake rose and went through to the kitchen, where the boys were finishing up. The place was unrecognizable. When he plugged in Sass’s coffee machine, however, it was the boys’ turn to be surprised.
“Whattaya doing?” Brad asked.
“Making coffee, Einstein.”
“But you hate coffee and you hate that machine,” Mark pointed out.
Jake shrugged as he got out the instruction book. “Sometimes, boys, you have to move out of your comfort zone.”
“Yeah, right.” Brad had a knowing grin. Jake picked up a wet tea towel and flicked it hard at the wise guy.
“Go on, get out of here. If I blow the thing up, I don’t want blood on my hands.”
As the boys trooped out, laughing, he overheard Brad say, “Bet they hook up in the next three days.”
SASS WAS SETTING UP her computer when he came back into the dining room. She’d put on a pair of glasses that immediately provoked memories of corny movies where the plain secretary turned into a sex goddess. He handed her a steaming mug.
“Is that—My God, it is! I thought you didn’t make coffee?”
“I can follow instructions, though.”
“Only when it suits you.” She took a sip and her eyes widened. “Wow, this is okay for a first-timer!”
“Yeah, well, it’s not rocket science,” he said, pulling out a chair and settling into it, his own mug of tea at his elbow. “And I thought the least I could do was give you a caffeine fix to keep you going.”
He knew she’d love a nicotine fix, too. Tough. She’d just have to do that furtively before she went to bed.
Her head was already bent over the screen. He hated to admit it, but if felt companionable working side by side like this. For the second time that day he
found himself wondering what would have happened if they’d met under different circumstances. But they hadn’t.
Jake returned to work, aware of a twinge of something almost like regret.
CHAPTER TEN
LINGERING TWILIGHT HAD
just deepened into night when Jake and Sass arrived to pick up Rob and Moana for the meeting. “I hear there was trouble with the VW today,” Rob said as he climbed into the Jeep.
Jake groaned. “Oh, God! Is it all around town?”
“Yup, the gossips loved the idea of our surf champ stranded high and dry,” Moana said, buckling in.
“I also hear that Sass went down a treat at the school.”
“How small is this town?” she exclaimed.
Moana laughed. “Small enough for everyone not only to know you sneezed, but the hour and minute you did so.”
“Oh, man, I’d better watch out. But the gossip is wrong. I didn’t do anything special at the interviews.”
Jake shifted gears as he pulled away from the curb. “Actually, much as I hate to admit it, you did a great job there. The teachers were eating out of your hand.” Looking at his brother in the rearview mirror, he added, “She’s good. We’ll have to watch our backs.”
Before Sass could protest, Rob said in his easy way, “From many others tonight, too, I suspect.”
Moana leaned forward, her arms along the top of Jake’s seat, her head turned to Sass, eyes full of mischief. “Have you brought along an asbestos suit?”
“Why? Are the townsfolk going to turn ugly toward me?”
“Nah, it’s not that. It’s Jake and his dad. Things can get pretty hot when they’re in the same room.”
“It’s his fault,” Jake stated. “He’s the most intractable individual in the world.”
Rob laughed. “Says Mr. Reasonable Compromise.”
Jake eyeballed his brother in the mirror. “I’m not a pushover like some I know.”
Moana patted Jake’s shoulder. “There, there,” she said. Then she turned back to Sass. “Jake gets damned prickly whenever he’s with his father. It’s because they’re so similar. Jake’s just a chip off the old, bloody-minded block.”
“Oh, God, take me out and shoot me now if that’s the truth.” But Jake was laughing and the rest of the trip flew by. Sass realized that she felt completely at home with these people she’d met only a few days earlier. It seemed no time at all before they were pulling into the car park, which was already packed with vehicles.
“Perfect timing,” Rob said. “There are the parents.”
A distinguished-looking couple had just climbed out of an obviously new Audi TT and were making their way across to the Jeep.
“Jake! Rob!” The woman pounced on her sons and then hugged Moana.
“I’m Matt Finlayson,” the man said, giving Sass a no-nonsense handshake. “You must be the hotshot lawyer come to talk sense into my boys. Should be an interesting meeting tonight. I’ve been telling Jake he’s wasting his time, but as always, he knows best. I’d expected Rob to be reasonable, though.”
He was as tall as his sons, with powerful shoulders. But his hair was silver and his face had a hardness that Sass had not seen in Jake’s, even at his most belligerent. Everything about him spoke of wealth and confidence. Sass felt suddenly awkward, realizing that she’d completely bought into Jake’s hokey surfer image.
She hid it well, though, as she gave her standard reply, “I’m just here to listen, Mr. Finlayson. My company wants everyone to have the chance to express their view.”
“Oh, come, you don’t really expect us to believe that? It’s a charade to placate the irate locals, after which your company’ll steam ahead—isn’t that right?” It was uncomfortably close to the truth. “Look, I don’t blame you,” he said. “I’m in business myself. Shopping malls. I keep telling Jake he might as well stand in the path of an oncoming tanker as try to stop your company.”
Sass saw Jake stiffen. His father saw it, too.
“There you go, pokering up. Don’t get tetchy because I say it like it is.” He turned back to Sass, shaking his head. “Jake’s always so quick to take offense,” he said, as though bewildered by this unaccountable behavior.
Inwardly, Sass sighed. Her job would be a whole lot easier if Père Finlayson wasn’t taking her side. She was saved from replying, however, as Jake’s mother cut in.
“So lovely to meet you, Sass. I’m Margot.”
Jake had inherited his bright eyes from her and, when he wasn’t being defensive, her particularly warm smile. She embraced Sass, which was surprising. But also nice. Then she stepped back. “Shall we go in?”
Margot took Matt’s arm. Moana slipped her hand into Rob’s. For a fleeting second, Sass envied them. But as she started in alone, she felt Jake’s hand on her back, warm through her silk blouse.
“This way.” His slight pressure guided her up the steps and into the hall. It was impossible to tell from his expression if this was a proprietary gesture to alarm the ABORD supporters or whether he was being kind.
The hall was a reasonable size, but very plain, with whitewashed walls, high windows and a stage at the far end. Shabby velvet curtains had faded from royal purple to dusty grape. Seating ranged from old-fashioned benches at the front to as many hard, wooden chairs as could be squeezed in. The air vibrated with excitement as hundreds of people greeted one another. It might be a divided community, but it was nevertheless a close one.
“Now, the main speakers will be up on the stage. We’ve put a seat there for you, too,” Jake said, stooping to speak into Sass’s ear to make himself heard. His breath was hot, setting her nerves tingling.
“I’d rather be in the audience,” she replied.
“But you’re the guest of honor.”
“Thanks, but this evening isn’t about me, it’s about Whangarimu.”
He seemed about to disagree, but she put a palm on his arm. “Please.”
He looked down at her hand, then into her eyes. “If you’re sure. But we will introduce you. Everyone will be dying to see what you’re like.”
“Of course.” She removed her hand now that she had her way. Strong men, like horses, sometimes needed leading by touch.
Sass had her reasons for being in the audience. She would have a better view of the speakers, for a start, but more importantly, it would align her with the townspeople, make her one of them. She didn’t want to distance herself or set herself higher, even in the most innocuous way. It also set her apart from the antiresort constituents reinforcing her policy of being here to listen impartially.
“Come and meet the mayor, then,” Jake said, his hand again going to the small of her back, while he added over his shoulder to Moana, “Save a place in the front row for Sass.”
Guiding her past the throng’s curious glances, Jake led her up on stage, where he introduced her to the mayor, an untidy man with a paunch.
“Delighted to meet you, Sass,” he said, his gaze dropping to her breasts. “I’m sorry I’ve been out of town or I’d have made your acquaintance sooner.”
“Golf, was it, Tom?” Jake asked innocently.
The mayor shot him a look. “No, no. Mayoral business,” he said, his hand making a vague circle in the air. “I hope we’ll have lots of time to get better acquainted.”
“Yes, but not now,” Jake stated. “We should get this meeting started.”
“True, true.” The mayor smiled at Sass. “Duty never done and all that.” Giving her arm a squeeze, he added sotto voce, “We’ll talk later,” before bustling off to the podium.
Jake’s glare bore a hole in the mayor’s back before he went to join Rob and the other speakers onstage. Tom stepped forward, raising both hands to silence the audience. It took a few minutes before he was noticed, but gradually the noise fell away. He then welcomed everyone, outlined the reason for the meeting and the order in which the speakers would talk.
“But before we begin, it is my great pleasure,” he said, “to introduce
you to Sass Walker, who has come all the way from New York. We are lucky indeed to have such a beautiful young woman to listen to us.”
Sass saw Jake roll his eyes, but she was used to men initially dismissing her because of her looks. Jake hadn’t, she suddenly realized as she stepped up to the podium. He’d hated her, but he hadn’t dismissed her.
For a moment, Sass stood looking out over the blur of faces. She’d already decided on her strategy of keeping a sympathetic but low profile. Kurt always made the mistake of trying to dominate. In contrast, Sass kept her speech simple, expressing her delight to be there, thanking the town for their welcome and reiterating her role as listener.
“I really do want to hear from you.” And she meant it. Persuader or manipulator, in the end she knew her greatest skill lay in finding a compromise that appeased everyone. Tonight she was going to find out exactly how hard that might be in this case.
The applause as she took her seat was restrained, but at least she hadn’t been booed. This, she felt, was a reasonable start, and she settled next to Moana, who whispered, “Wow, Sass. Another few minutes of that Southern charm and you’d have had the whole audience eating out of your hand. Even I forgot for a minute that we’re sworn enemies.”
“Moana!” Margot whispered, but Sass just smiled.
THE FIRST SPEAKER WAS Manu Rihari, from the ABORD Committee. He was a tall, well-built Maori with a soft voice and shrewd intelligence. Sass leaned forward, feeling lighter. This man was her ally.
“My friends,” he began, “it saddens my heart that we are, for the first time I can remember, a deeply divided community. Whangarimu and her environs are dear to all of us, but we must be realistic. Our town is dying.”
Manu went on to enumerate the businesses that had closed down over the past ten years, quoted the statistics of ever rising unemployment.
“This resort is a lifeline to our town, to our people. We must seize it.”
He took his seat amid wild applause from some and muted heckling from others.