“No one wanted to follow through on the legend—or the history,” she said, exasperated.
He felt his fingers tense around his coffee cup and he stared at her. “You’re trying to tell me that pirates returned to massacre your friends?” he asked.
Something about the tightening in her lips and the way that she stared at him caused him to feel as if he should be ashamed—as if he had spoken out of turn.
But he hadn’t. And he couldn’t explain to her that he knew what ghosts were capable of doing, and what they weren’t. As a matter of fact, he knew a few of them….
“That’s not what I’m suggesting at all,” she said.
“Then?”
“I—don’t know, exactly,” she said, looking away. “Here’s the thing. We’ve had this movie stowed since it happened. But…people know about it. I’m afraid we’ll get an offer from a major distributor. My partner would gladly sell. I don’t want to sell—not unless I can get some justice for those who were involved. I don’t want to make money on sensationalism, on something…something unsolved. I’ve gotten Jay to agree that I can try one more time to discover the truth.”
“I—”
“Please. Please just tell me that you’ll consider doing it?” she asked.
He stared at her, not knowing what to say.
No. A flat-out no would be a great answer. He and David hadn’t set anything in stone as yet, but…no. This one had to be a no. They both had their individual exemplary careers, they knew what they were doing. They could write themselves.
“I’m sorry. I just don’t think my partner will agree,” Sean said.
“Will you ask David Beckett?” she queried stubbornly.
He smiled. “Will you quit asking if I talk to him and he says no?”
She smiled. “You’re—Look, I know I’m asking a lot without much to offer. But I am really good at what I do, and if you give me a few weeks, I promise, I’ll help to make anything you want to do come out as brilliantly as possible. I’ll be slave labor, I swear.”
“I don’t want slave labor.”
“I’ll be the best damned assistant you’ve ever had,” she swore.
“Take her up on it!” Bartholomew said. “Hell, my boy! Take her up on it just for the pleasure of having her upon your wretched little boat.”
“I’ll talk to David,” he said.
“You really will. And…and if he’s hesitant, if there’s any chance, will you let me try to persuade him, as well?” she asked.
He forced an even smile. No, just say no!
He asked himself if he would be so torn, so tempted, if the person asking him wasn’t this young woman, not just beautiful, but…strong. So confident in her ability that she would swear she could make his work the best ever.
Ability.
The way she looked.
The sound of her voice.
The mystery involved. Yes, he knew the damned legend. And hell yes, he was curious.
“Look,” he began.
But she wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at the door. She let out a little cry of surprise and gladness.
Sean swung around. His sister had just come in the door.
He looked at Vanessa Loren.
Ah, hell.
Hell.
The young woman knew Katie. He should have figured.
He stared back at her, irritated, and suddenly certain that it was all over.
“You know my sister,” he said.
She glanced at him while rising. “Yes, I know Katie. I’ve been on a few dive boats with her, and of course, I bring friends in here for Katie-okie when I’m down….”
She started to head out to see Katie. He set his fingers around her wrist, drawing her back.
She didn’t jerk away, but then his hold was pretty firm. Those huge, cornflower-blue eyes of hers lit on him.
He smiled coldly. “You know my uncle, too, don’t you? And my uncle knew just who you were and what you wanted.”
“I’ve met Jamie before, yes,” she admitted. “Katie can explain it all to David, if you don’t want to, but I know that she’ll convince him that I’m right. I came to you first, because Katie told me that David had said all the major decisions were going to be yours, so if you just agree—”
He stood, releasing her wrist.
“I don’t like being played,” he said flatly. “Good day, Miss Loren.”
She didn’t call after him.
Bartholomew did.
“Sean! Oh, come on, Sean. I can help you with this, I was around when it all happened,” the dapper buccaneer cried to him. “Sean, oh, do come on! If I were flesh and blood, I’d be on this like a mosquito at a topless bar! Sean!”
Sean passed Katie near the doorway. “Hey, sis,” he said, kissed her cheek, and kept on going.
They’d all just survived near death. They had dealt with total insanity.
He would have to be insane himself to get into something like this again.
“Mr. O’Hara!”
She had followed him out. The lithe and dignified Miss Loren had come rushing out, and now she stood on the sidewalk, staring after him.
Despite himself, he paused.
She walked to him, her chin high. “I never meant to play anyone,” she said. “I’m just desperate for help. You don’t understand,” she said.