'Dr. Yeats,' she faltered. 'I didn't know you were a Bilderberger.'
'Oh, they'll let anyone join these days,' he said, looking at Midas before locking his hazel eyes on her. 'So you just forgive and forget?'
There was a pregnant pause, and Serena could feel his gaze on her, along with everybody else's. Except for Midas. His ice-blue eyes, wide with shock, stared at Conrad in disbelief, and in that split second she grasped that Midas had thought Conrad was dead.
'Forgiveness isn't the same as reconciliation,' she answered, sounding detached even though her heart was racing faster than her head. 'You can forgive someone, like a dead parent, without resuming the relationship. Reconciliation, however, is a two-way street.'
'Interesting,' said Conrad. 'Go on.'
'Well,' she said, pursing her lips. 'The offending party first must show remorse and ask for forgiveness.'
'And then?'
'Next the offending party must pay some kind of restitution. After he met Jesus, the tax collector Zacchaeus repaid everybody he ripped off four times over to show his remorse.'
'Sounds good to me,' Conrad said, puffing on his cigar. 'Is that it?'
'No,' she said. 'Last, the offending party must show a real desire to restore the relationship. That takes trust. And trust takes time.'
Conrad nodded and blew a circle of smoke into the air. 'What if the offending party doesn't give a rip or return your calls?'
Serena took a deep breath, aware that Midas and Gellar were gone and the circle had broken up, leaving her alone with Conrad, who was ruining everything. 'Then you should forgive them but not resume the relationship in hopes of reconciliation.'
Conrad looked around and acknowledged that they were speaking privately. 'Thanks for clearing that up, Serena. I thought I had just one reason to hate you for the rest of my life after you stole from me and then ditched me in D.C. But you keep giving me more.'
'What are you doing here, Conrad?'
'I was going to ask you that very question,' he shot back. 'I thought Jesus hung out with the poor, the oppressed, the sick. Not the rich and powerful.'
'It's not like that, Conrad.'
'Then enlighten me, please.'
She told him. 'I think Midas is helping the Russians mine the Arctic. I want to stop them.'
'Interesting,' Conrad said. 'Midas tried to kill me this morning.'
'Really?' she said, hiding her concern. That meant both Midas and Conrad knew something she didn't. It had to be something terrible to bring together two such extreme men in her life. 'I hope he has a ticket. The line seems to get longer each year.'
'Lucky you,' he said, looking over her shoulder. 'It looks like my number is up.'
At that moment Sir Midas's girlfriend, Mercedes, waved and headed toward them with a smile. 'Conrad!' she called out.
Serena whispered into Conrad's ear: 'Squeeze her for information. She might confess some things to you that she wouldn't to a nun.'
He looked at her with contempt. 'You want me to sleep with her because your vows keep you from sleeping with Midas?'
'Something like that,' she said. 'You were going to anyway, weren't you?'
The look in his eyes told her that she had hurt him, and she hated herself for it. But it was better than him harboring any hope for her, as much as she was dying to be with him. Because there wasn't any hope as long as the Alignment lived.
'You're just a cast-iron bitch with a crucifix, aren't you?' he said.
The words pierced Serena's heart as Mercedes arrived, but she forced a smile.
'Professor Yeats!' Mercedes said, giving him two air kisses on each cheek.
Serena said innocently, 'I forgot you two worked together.'
'Truth be told, Professor Yeats worked for me until he didn't work out at all,' Mercedes said, and gave her a wicked wink. 'Sister Serghetti, if you'll excuse us, I'm going to have to take the professor away and spread him around.'
Serena wanted to reach out and grab Conrad's arm to keep him from walking away with the woman. But she could only nod politely as she stood by herself next to the statue of the dying Achilles.
8
Conrad knew that he had come tonight to see Mercedes, whom he reluctantly followed past security down some stone steps into the lower gardens. But the sight of Serena had so thoroughly thrown him that Mercedes could have stripped off her snug gown and invited him to skinny-dip with her in the sea and he still would have passed on the opportunity in order to get back to Serena. Or get back at her. He wasn't sure.
Mercedes, meanwhile, looked incredibly if artificially well sculpted in her silver halter dress. Her forehead and facial features, however, seemed a bit too tight when she turned to him in the dim light of the lower gardens. Sure they were at last alone, she slapped him across the face.
'You bastard!' she hissed. 'You stranded me in Nazca with a stolen artifact and a dozen Peruvian soldiers.'
He rubbed his stinging cheek with his hand. 'You got out okay, didn't you?'
'And how do you think I managed that?' she said, tearing up. 'You think those pigs cared who my father was?'
It dawned on him what must have happened, the favors she was forced to offer to get out while he was off in Antarctica with Serena. He couldn't tell her he'd had no choice, because in hindsight, he had. It hadn't been necessary to leave her on that plateau. He could have insisted that the U.S. military take her and drop her off somewhere safe before proceeding. And he hadn't.
Conrad said, 'You told me later that all was forgiven and forgotten.'
Her eyes turned into black slits, the moonlight giving them an otherworldly glow. 'Because I had to,' she said. 'I was hoping you'd come back. But you didn't, did you?'
Conrad, realizing that Mercedes's feelings toward him were the same as his own toward Serena, felt horrible and gave her his full attention. 'I'm here now.'
'No, you came to see her,' Mercedes said, referring to Serena.
'Actually, I came to see your boyfriend,' he said, surprised that he was actually telling her the truth.
She believed him, it seemed, and said nothing for a couple of minutes as they walked down more steps to the beach. There was a tiny Greek fishing village there, with some modest homes behind whitewashed walls. She removed her stiletto sandals, and they walked along the sand to the old stone bridge jutting out into the water.
'This is the kaiser's pier,' she said. 'He used it to go back and forth from his yacht.'
'Like Midas?'
Her slits for eyes softened into a worried look. 'What's your business with Roman?'
'He stole something that belonged to me.'
She forced a smile. 'I doubt that.'
'That he stole something?' Conrad asked.
'That whatever he stole belonged to you. What was it, Conrad? Some Greek statue at the bottom of the sea?'
'Something important enough for Midas to blow up my boat and kill my crew over.' He was as serious as he had ever let her see him.
She paused. 'And so you decided to come back for more?'
