her intently.
"Who knows? Maybe never. At least not to us."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Shelley drew a deep breath. "Dean, the big question in all this is, What does Joel Cassidy have in mind? I'm just not
sure where he fits in."
"Are you trying to tell me he might be manipulating this whole situation?" Dean surged to his feet and walked
restlessly toward the window.
"There is that chance," she told him baldly. "We know he was involved with the same conglomerate on a huge deal
a few months ago. At that time, he may have discovered that they were also interested in the Ackerly land he was
holding as collateral. He may have known about their potential interest in that land a year ago when he made the loan
to your father! How do I know?" she grated fiercely. "He may have told them he has a claim on it and that he'll sell it to
them when he takes possession!" Her mouth turned downward in self-disgust. How could she have been so stupid?
"If he wanted to take possession, why did he extend the loan?" Dean asked reasonably enough.
"I don't know, Dean. I just don't know. Unless he thought we might somehow manage to pay him off instead of
turning over the land. Maybe he thinks that with my expert assistance you will actually find yourself in bankruptcy,
after all. Or perhaps when he thinks we're desperate enough, he'll offer to buy the land from you for a paltry sum plus
cancellation of the loan. Who can second-guess him?"
"We can't second-guess him, but we could try asking him exactly what he's got in mind," Dean murmured
thoughtfully.
Shelley looked up in surprise, staring at Dean's back. "Could we trust his answer? That's the problem."
"Wheels within wheels," Dean groaned.
"Games," Shelley corrected ruefully. "Complicated games." She got to her feet purposefully. "Dean, I'm going to go
home and try to sort this mess out. I want to have all the facts straight before we do anything as rash as confronting
Cassidy and asking him what he's up to. I need a little time to map everything out on paper and draw up some
contingency plans in case he's manipulating things for his own benefit I'll check back with you tomorrow with some
realistic scenarios we can work with, okay?"
He smiled wryly. "Okay. I'll rely on you to put everything in perspective, Shelley. In the meantime, I'll alert a few key
members of my staff. Maybe all together we can come up with a way of resolving this to Ackerly's benefit!"
"We will!" she vowed with a resolution she wasn't sure she really felt Leave 'em confident and thinking positive, she
reminded herself as she returned his smile and headed for the door.
"Shelley?"
She paused, hand on the knob, and glanced back inquiringly. "Thanks," Dean said simply. "Your advance warning
might make all the difference."
In spite of her brave words to her client, however, Shelley wasn't seeing the complicated situation in any clearer
light by the time she had parked her car in the drive and let herself into the cool, inviting interior of her home. With a
persistent frown of concentration, she crossed the champagne-colored carpet toward her bedroom where she changed
from her business clothes into a pair of snug, faded jeans and a loose-fitting, exotically patterned shirt in saffron and
purple.
Barefooted, she padded out into the kitchen and rummaged in the refrigerator for a grapefruit A few minutes later,
with the sectioned grapefruit perched on a small dish, she wandered back out into the living room.
Shelley glanced at the bulging briefcase waiting for her beside the desk in front of the window, but it was the puzzle
table that drew her for some reason. She stood staring down at the unfinished scene of Venice and then reached idly
for a piece to insert into the gondola.
What was Joel up to? What game was he playing with her? Could a man make love to a woman the way he had made
love to her last night and still be intent on using her? Slowly, Shelley sank down into one of the
"Who knows? Maybe never. At least not to us."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Shelley drew a deep breath. "Dean, the big question in all this is, What does Joel Cassidy have in mind? I'm just not
sure where he fits in."
"Are you trying to tell me he might be manipulating this whole situation?" Dean surged to his feet and walked
restlessly toward the window.
"There is that chance," she told him baldly. "We know he was involved with the same conglomerate on a huge deal
a few months ago. At that time, he may have discovered that they were also interested in the Ackerly land he was
holding as collateral. He may have known about their potential interest in that land a year ago when he made the loan
to your father! How do I know?" she grated fiercely. "He may have told them he has a claim on it and that he'll sell it to
them when he takes possession!" Her mouth turned downward in self-disgust. How could she have been so stupid?
"If he wanted to take possession, why did he extend the loan?" Dean asked reasonably enough.
"I don't know, Dean. I just don't know. Unless he thought we might somehow manage to pay him off instead of
turning over the land. Maybe he thinks that with my expert assistance you will actually find yourself in bankruptcy,
after all. Or perhaps when he thinks we're desperate enough, he'll offer to buy the land from you for a paltry sum plus
cancellation of the loan. Who can second-guess him?"
"We can't second-guess him, but we could try asking him exactly what he's got in mind," Dean murmured
thoughtfully.
Shelley looked up in surprise, staring at Dean's back. "Could we trust his answer? That's the problem."
"Wheels within wheels," Dean groaned.
"Games," Shelley corrected ruefully. "Complicated games." She got to her feet purposefully. "Dean, I'm going to go
home and try to sort this mess out. I want to have all the facts straight before we do anything as rash as confronting
Cassidy and asking him what he's up to. I need a little time to map everything out on paper and draw up some
contingency plans in case he's manipulating things for his own benefit I'll check back with you tomorrow with some
realistic scenarios we can work with, okay?"
He smiled wryly. "Okay. I'll rely on you to put everything in perspective, Shelley. In the meantime, I'll alert a few key
members of my staff. Maybe all together we can come up with a way of resolving this to Ackerly's benefit!"
"We will!" she vowed with a resolution she wasn't sure she really felt Leave 'em confident and thinking positive, she
reminded herself as she returned his smile and headed for the door.
"Shelley?"
She paused, hand on the knob, and glanced back inquiringly. "Thanks," Dean said simply. "Your advance warning
might make all the difference."
In spite of her brave words to her client, however, Shelley wasn't seeing the complicated situation in any clearer
light by the time she had parked her car in the drive and let herself into the cool, inviting interior of her home. With a
persistent frown of concentration, she crossed the champagne-colored carpet toward her bedroom where she changed
from her business clothes into a pair of snug, faded jeans and a loose-fitting, exotically patterned shirt in saffron and
purple.
Barefooted, she padded out into the kitchen and rummaged in the refrigerator for a grapefruit A few minutes later,
with the sectioned grapefruit perched on a small dish, she wandered back out into the living room.
Shelley glanced at the bulging briefcase waiting for her beside the desk in front of the window, but it was the puzzle
table that drew her for some reason. She stood staring down at the unfinished scene of Venice and then reached idly
for a piece to insert into the gondola.
What was Joel up to? What game was he playing with her? Could a man make love to a woman the way he had made
love to her last night and still be intent on using her? Slowly, Shelley sank down into one of the
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