affairs."
"Then it is about business?" He requested confirmation of the subject matter.
"Yes." It was a clipped response. She picked up the tennis racket she had used, holding it in an attitude of indecision. "What am I supposed to do with this?" Glenna made a subconscious attempt to divert the conversation.
Jett motioned to an attendant. "He'll return it." Glenna handed it to the young boy who jogged over. As soon as he'd left Jett asked, "Will you be at the meeting?"
"Probably. Why?" She tried to challenge him.
"I just wondered." With a hand resting on the small of her back, he guided her away from the tennis courts.
Glenna was wary of such a noncommittal answer. "What did you wonder?"
His sidelong glance held her gaze for a moment. "If you were a shill."
"A shill," she repeated in growing indignation.
"A shill is a gambling term. It refers to a partner, a decoy used to dupe the victims, into a game—usually a crooked game," he explained.
"I know what it means," Glenna retorted. "But I don't happen to be one."
"It's possible that your purpose could be to divert my attention. You are a very attractive diversion." His glance was swiftly assessing.
Glenna didn't trust herself to look at him, certain she would strike at him again. "But that isn't my purpose."
"So you said," he nodded.
"You really have a very suspicious mind," she stated in a low angry breath. "Does everybody have to have an angle, some ulterior motive?"
"They don't have to but they usually do." His delivery was smoothly offhand, but there was a wealth of cynicism in his words.
"Maybe it's because you do most of your business with underhanded people instead of honest ones like my father," Glenna suggested dryly.
"Get burned a few times, and you'll get leery of fire, too."
Her gaze slid to his face, noting the grimness of his mouth and the forbidding set of his jaw. Glenna realized that his toughness, his hardness came from harsh experience. It lessened her irritation.
"I don't have to be at the meeting," she pointed out. "If it would make you feel more secure, or less suspicious, I'll go for a swim or something. There isn't anything I can contribute to the discussion. And I certainly don't want you to regard me as a distraction. Neither would dad."
As they stopped in front of the elevators, Jett studied her for a long second before commenting on her suggestion. "I have no objection to your presence at the meeting with your father. If you want to attend, you can."
"If it's up to me, I'll be there." Because she knew her presence would provide moral support for her father, which was of greater importance than Jett's distrust.
The elevator doors slid soundlessly open as a bell chimed overhead. Glenna stepped to one side to let its passengers walk by her before entering the empty elevator ahead of Jett.
Chapter Five
THE MEETING was a nerve-racking experience for Glenna. She was curled in a chair off to one side, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. Her father had begun the meeting by first establishing the profitability of the mine, producing studies and reports for Jett's examination. From there he had gone on to explain previous years' financial difficulties, then the inspection order for safety improvements and the long appeals in order to raise the money to comply with the required standards.
All the while Jett had listened, looked over the papers and reports, and studied the man doing the talking. And all the while his face had been devoid of expression. Never once had he glanced at Glenna since greeting her shortly after he had arrived. She shifted in her chair to ease a cramped leg, yet the movement didn't attract his attention.
"I think that gives you a fairly good idea of my present dilemma." Her father leaned back in his chair to study Jett and try to read his reaction. After an instant's pause he laid out his proposal. "And why I am anxious to form an association…a merger with your firm, to obtain the financial
"Then it is about business?" He requested confirmation of the subject matter.
"Yes." It was a clipped response. She picked up the tennis racket she had used, holding it in an attitude of indecision. "What am I supposed to do with this?" Glenna made a subconscious attempt to divert the conversation.
Jett motioned to an attendant. "He'll return it." Glenna handed it to the young boy who jogged over. As soon as he'd left Jett asked, "Will you be at the meeting?"
"Probably. Why?" She tried to challenge him.
"I just wondered." With a hand resting on the small of her back, he guided her away from the tennis courts.
Glenna was wary of such a noncommittal answer. "What did you wonder?"
His sidelong glance held her gaze for a moment. "If you were a shill."
"A shill," she repeated in growing indignation.
"A shill is a gambling term. It refers to a partner, a decoy used to dupe the victims, into a game—usually a crooked game," he explained.
"I know what it means," Glenna retorted. "But I don't happen to be one."
"It's possible that your purpose could be to divert my attention. You are a very attractive diversion." His glance was swiftly assessing.
Glenna didn't trust herself to look at him, certain she would strike at him again. "But that isn't my purpose."
"So you said," he nodded.
"You really have a very suspicious mind," she stated in a low angry breath. "Does everybody have to have an angle, some ulterior motive?"
"They don't have to but they usually do." His delivery was smoothly offhand, but there was a wealth of cynicism in his words.
"Maybe it's because you do most of your business with underhanded people instead of honest ones like my father," Glenna suggested dryly.
"Get burned a few times, and you'll get leery of fire, too."
Her gaze slid to his face, noting the grimness of his mouth and the forbidding set of his jaw. Glenna realized that his toughness, his hardness came from harsh experience. It lessened her irritation.
"I don't have to be at the meeting," she pointed out. "If it would make you feel more secure, or less suspicious, I'll go for a swim or something. There isn't anything I can contribute to the discussion. And I certainly don't want you to regard me as a distraction. Neither would dad."
As they stopped in front of the elevators, Jett studied her for a long second before commenting on her suggestion. "I have no objection to your presence at the meeting with your father. If you want to attend, you can."
"If it's up to me, I'll be there." Because she knew her presence would provide moral support for her father, which was of greater importance than Jett's distrust.
The elevator doors slid soundlessly open as a bell chimed overhead. Glenna stepped to one side to let its passengers walk by her before entering the empty elevator ahead of Jett.
Chapter Five
THE MEETING was a nerve-racking experience for Glenna. She was curled in a chair off to one side, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. Her father had begun the meeting by first establishing the profitability of the mine, producing studies and reports for Jett's examination. From there he had gone on to explain previous years' financial difficulties, then the inspection order for safety improvements and the long appeals in order to raise the money to comply with the required standards.
All the while Jett had listened, looked over the papers and reports, and studied the man doing the talking. And all the while his face had been devoid of expression. Never once had he glanced at Glenna since greeting her shortly after he had arrived. She shifted in her chair to ease a cramped leg, yet the movement didn't attract his attention.
"I think that gives you a fairly good idea of my present dilemma." Her father leaned back in his chair to study Jett and try to read his reaction. After an instant's pause he laid out his proposal. "And why I am anxious to form an association…a merger with your firm, to obtain the financial
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