Guiltily, she dropped the binoculars and jumped away from the window, even though the glass was tinted and mirrored from the outside. He couldn’t possibly have seen her, yet she was shaken. If his stare behind the dark sunglasses was as intense as his stance, he was a man who wouldn’t appreciate being spied on.
Her palms were damp. She wiped them on her skirt. Her tummy felt weightless. She quickly poured herself a glass of water and drank it. She couldn’t imagine what had come over her. For years, the sexes had been homogenized in her mind. Her attempt to have a romantic relationship with Hank had ended in heartache for both of them. Professional counseling hadn’t helped.
After months of therapy, the female psychologist had said, “We know what caused your condition. How you deal with it is up to you. In order for healing to take place, Miss Sperry, you must participate in the process.”
Jade’s candid reply had been, “I can’t. I tried, and only ended up hurting someone I care about a great deal.”
“Then I’m afraid we’re at an impasse. It’s going to take courage on your part to establish another sexual relationship.”
Jade didn’t lack courage, but rather the selfishness to break another person’s heart. Because there were no guarantees that she would ever be “cured,” she refused to take chances at another’s expense. That’s why her very real physical reaction to the man in the binoculars stunned her. She sat down at the small writing desk and made another notation in her notebook. Her energy was generated by something much stronger than a potent sex drive. Robbed of the privilege of ever completely loving a man, or of accepting a man’s love, she was more determined than ever to seek restitution. No one in Palmetto would have to endure the injustices the Patchetts had chosen to perpetrate. After all these years, she was very close to achieving her goals.
The days in L.A. had been well spent. After observing and analyzing for three days, she was convinced that Dave Seffrin had found the contractor for TexTile. Tomorrow she would come out from behind the binoculars and introduce herself.
* * *
Standing before the mirror on the door of her hotel room, Jade analyzed her image. She had observed her thirtieth birthday two years before. Time’s ravages had been slight. She had maintained a youthful slenderness without compromising any feminine curves. There was still a natural rosiness in her cheeks. Her hair was glossy and dark, with no signs of graying yet. Her eyes, as blue as ever, were still her most arresting feature.
Her favorite wardrobe color was black. She wore it frequently. The smart, two-piece suit she had chosen to wear today was black, but lightweight enough to feel comfortable in the Southern California climate.
As she left the hotel, Jade recalled all the years since her graduation from Dander College that had led her to this point. She had stayed at the job in Charlotte, North Carolina, until a better one in Birmingham, Alabama, had come along. Her duties had been in purchasing, but she was hired in a middle-management position. There followed a series of other jobs, although she stayed within the area of te
xtile and clothing manufacturing, taking with her the knowledge she had gained under Miss Dorothy Davis’s tutelage.
She, Graham, and Cathy, who became a member of the family, relocated several times. Intuitively, Jade knew when she had acquired all that her current position could offer and it was time to progress. Her employers always regretted seeing her leave. The only exception was one whom she was forced to threaten with a charge of sexual harassment. Because he was her superior and didn’t take her threats seriously, she left after only six months.
Most of her experiences had been rewarding. Along the way, she had learned the technical aspects of the business, marketing strategy, and how to maximize production efficiency. Her ultimate goal, however, exceeded the boundaries of these comparatively small industries. Her scope was much broader. When the right opportunity came along, she would be prepared for it.
She studied. She faithfully perused business magazines, so she was well acquainted with GSS long before she read The Wall Street Journal article that would have such a pivotal effect on her future. She already knew that GSS was one of the largest and ever-growing conglomerates in the world. The focus of the article was on GSS’s recent acquisition of three textile plants, which, according to the vice president being interviewed for the article, were currently albatrosses.
After reading the article several times, a plan began to form in Jade’s mind. At the time, she was working for a company headquartered in Atlanta, but she knew where she wanted to go next. That evening, she had placed a long-distance call to New York City.
“Hank? Hi. It’s Jade.”
“Hey, what’s up? How are you? How’s Graham?”
“Growing like a weed. One of these days he’ll be as tall as you.”
“Is Cathy okay?”
“She’s fine. As invaluable to me as ever.”
Following Jade’s encounter with Lamar Griffith at Mitch’s funeral, she had had a solemn and frank talk with Hank. She told him that, in spite of the psychotherapy she had undergone, she could not engage in a physical relationship. At the risk of sacrificing his friendship, she wanted him fully to understand that it would remain platonic.
Encouraged by the kiss they had shared that morning, he was initially dismayed, then angry, over Jade’s sudden reversal. He stormed out; Jade didn’t see him for months. Then one evening he unexpectedly showed up at the house as though nothing had happened. Their friendship resumed where it had left off. By way of explanation, he had simply said, “I’d rather be your friend than nothing.”
As she moved from city to city and job to job, she and Hank stayed in close contact, writing and calling each other frequently. Consequently, he wasn’t surprised to hear from her when she called him in New York, where he had moved as soon as he’d received his degree in art and design.
Once they had caught up on personal news, she asked, “Didn’t you do some work for GSS at one time?”
“Last year. There was an article about them in the Journal today.”
“That’s what sparked my memory.”
“I was commissioned to redesign their corporate offices,” he told her. “I figured they needed a hefty tax writeoff. The bid I submitted was so capitalistically inspired that even I was ashamed to ask that much.”
“I doubt that.”
He laughed. “Anyway, they went for it.”