doctor.'
'I don't want a professional consultation. This is a business matter.'
Gum snapped loudly. 'What kind of business?'
'Tell Dr. Austen that it concerns one of his recent investments.'
He hung up the phone before the receptionist could ask any more questions. He was satisfied that Quentin Austen would call soon. He had discovered long ago that people tended to return phone calls that involved money.
That thought reminded him that he still had a business to run. He reached out, switched on the computer, and settled down to brood over the Synergy Fund's extensive stock market portfolio.
The technology sector was doing well, but it was time to unload some of the fund's retail stocks. He could sense a coming shift in the market. The dip would be minor, but he did not want to be caught in it.
Chapter 10
At ten o'clock the following evening Orchid allowed Rafe to lead her out onto one of many terraces that surrounded Stonebraker House. She took a deep breath of the scented air and popped a flaky little pastry stuffed with spiced crabster into her mouth. It was her third in ten minutes.
She had discovered the pastries a short while ago after having worked her way through a buffet table filled with exquisitely prepared hors d'oeuvres. At first she had worried that she did not have any room left for the spicy crab-ster tidbits, but she had managed, with a serious effort of willpower, to find space.
All in all, Orchid was surprised to discover that she felt right at home at Alfred G. Stonebraker's birthday party. It was not all that different from the faculty receptions her parents used to drag her to back in Northville. She sensed the same subtle, behind-the-scenes maneuvering, the same political machinations, and the same family tensions hovering just beneath the surface.
The biggest difference here was that almost no one wore white.
The glass-walled room behind her was filled with elegantly dressed men and women who sipped expensive blue champagne while they discussed social gossip, business, and fashionable gallery openings. The strains of a tango-waltz played gently in the background. Down below the terrace a series of artfully arranged colored lanterns had turned the expansive gardens into a shadow-filled wonderland.
She glanced at Rafe. He was a solid shadow beside her. She had to admit that the man looked incredibly sexy in his formal black evening clothes. The austere style emphasized the aura of quiet power, both physical and paranormal, that was so much a part of him. The light from a jelly-ice lantern gleamed on his near-black hair and highlighted the fascinating sweep of his cheekbones. His eyes gleamed with the lazily watchful, enigmatic expression that betrayed the depths of his strat-talent nature.
His mouth quirked as he watched her munch the stuffed pastry. 'Having a good time?'
'Food's great. And I like your parents. Remind me a little of my own. It's easy to see why they both wound up in the academic world. I can't envision your father working in a corporate environment.'
'My father is a strong math-talent. I'm told that it was obvious from the start that he was not cut out to take over Stonebraker. That was why my grandfather put the pressure on me.'
Orchid nodded. She had been introduced to Sarah and Glen Stonebraker shortly after they had arrived. They were a striking couple who wore the mantle of their education and intelligence with unselfconscious patrician ease, just as her own parents did. They had clearly been surprised by Orchid, but they had both been gracious and charming. There had been a lot of thoughtful speculation and even some relief in their eyes, but neither had been so rude as to grill their son's 'agency date.'
'You look much more like your grandfather than you do your father,' Orchid remarked.
'I told you, the family considers me a throwback,' Rafe said. 'In more ways than one.'
'I wish you wouldn't use that word.'
'Throwback? Why not? Everyone else does.' He put one foot on the terrace and leaned forward to rest his forearm on his thigh. 'It's not entirely inaccurate. My grandfather and I are alike in a lot of ways. That's why we couldn't work together.'
'Rafe, get real. You couldn't take orders from anyone, let alone your grandfather.'
'That's the damn truth,' said a deep, gravely voice from the direction of the open door behind Rafe. 'Boy was as hard-headed, independent, and stubborn as an ox-mule from the day he was born. Always had to do things his way.'
'Hello, Al.' Rafe took his foot down off the low terrace wall and turned to look at his grandfather. 'Enjoying your birthday party?'
'What's to enjoy?' Alfred G. strolled toward them. 'So far I've been hit up for campaign contributions by three different Founders' Values party candidates. Your grandmother tells me I've got to dance the tango-waltz with her at midnight and Selby is acting like he already runs Stonebraker.'
'Just another typical birthday party celebration for you,' Rafe said.
Alfred G. narrowed his eyes in a calculating expression that reminded Orchid of his grandson. 'Why don't you go mingle or something, Rafe? Give me a chance to get to know your friend, Orchid, here.'
An extremely cautious expression crossed Rafe's face. 'I'm not sure it's a good idea to leave you alone with Orchid.'
Alfred G.'s perfect white teeth flashed in a charmingly dangerous smile. 'She's not afraid of me, are you, Orchid?'
'Of course not, Mr. Stonebraker,' Orchid said politely.
'There, you see?' Alfred G. beamed triumphantly at Rafe. 'Run along. Let me have a little chat with your agency date.'
Rafe looked at Orchid, brows raised in silent inquiry. When Orchid nodded in equally silent agreement, he gave an 'on your head be it' shrug and started toward the door.
'Good luck,' he said as he walked past his grandfather. 'But don't come whining to me if the little chat doesn't turn out quite the way you expect.'
Fifteen minutes later Rafe noticed that neither Alfred G. nor Orchid had come in from the terrace. A trickle of unease slithered across his nerve endings. He broke off a conversation with a sixteen-year-old cousin who yearned to go to the Western Islands. Turning, he made his way back through the crowd to the open glass doors.
Alfred G.'s voice boomed out of the shadows.
'What the hell do you mean, you're going to vote for Christine Bellows? She'll run this city-state straight into the ground with her tax-and-spend ways. Daria Gardener is the woman for the job.'
'Gardener is a Founders' Values candidate,' Orchid said crisply. 'I wouldn't vote for her if she was the last politician on St. Helens.'
'Anyone who doesn't vote a straight Founders' Values ticket is an idiot and a radical to boot.'
'Anyone who votes only for Founders' Values candidates is a narrow-minded, hidebound, short-sighted traditionalist.'
'What's wrong with being a traditionalist?' Alfred G. roared. 'This planet was colonized by traditionalists.'
'We can't go back to the time of the first generation Founders, no matter how much some folks would like to return to the good old days of no jelly-ice and no paranormal abilities. We have to move forward. It's the only path for a civilization that intends to survive. And that means we have to think about the future, not the past.'
'Now, you listen to me, young woman. I've had a lot more experience in the real world than you have and I'm here to tell you—'
Rafe winced and moved swiftly away from the door. He had no inclination whatsoever to go out onto the terrace.
When he turned to retreat back into the crowd, he found Selby blocking his path.
'Hello, cousin.' Selby's blue eyes were calculating behind the lenses of his glasses. 'I must say, I'm surprised to see you here tonight. This is the first Alfred G. birthday party you've attended since you left for the Western Islands.'
