Clive Cussler - Wrath of Poseidon

“I am now. I just found out that the man pled guilty. Which means we won’t have to go back to testify.”

“What happened to the guy you were over there with?” he asked.

Olivia shook her head, as if to say she couldn’t believe he brought up the subject.

Remi ignored her friend, saying, “A lot happened in that short time we were together. On the one hand, I’ve never been so scared to death. On the other, I’ve never felt more alive.” She gave a slight shrug. “I guess when it came right down to it, it was just a bit more than I could handle.”

“Sam Fargo,” Olivia said, “is rash and reckless. Do you know he killed a man like it was just another day at the office? That’s why I think Remi needs to date someone like you.”

“Olivia, shut up,” Keith said, his gaze on Remi. “It’s not your decision to make.”

His words caught Remi by surprise. No doubt it was mere coincidence, but she couldn’t help but think about that old woman at the airport, and her parting words: You’ll make the right decision. “I’ll be . . .” Remi laughed. “She’s right.”

“See?” Olivia gave a catlike grin.

“Not you. Helena.” Remi smiled at Keith. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“I’m not really sure. Listening, maybe? And I need to go.”

“Go where?” Olivia asked.

“The Lighthouse Cafe.”

CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN

Sam loaded the last of the things into the back of his Jeep, then realized he’d forgotten the package that Blake was holding. Nikos had sent it from Greece—the promised Smith & Wesson. He took the small box, tucking it into the cargo hold with the others. “I think that’s it.”

Blake stepped up onto the curb. “Hate to say it, Fargo, but it’s not going to be the same without you hogging half my office.”

“Enjoy your newfound desk space.”

“You sure you want to do this?” he asked as Sam rearranged a few of the boxes, then closed the tailgate.

“Positive.”

“Maybe you should give it a cooling-off period. Wait until tomorrow to sign everything like you said you were going to. Who knows? You might feel different in the morning.”

“Doubt it.” Sam looked back at Blake’s office building, mentally going over everything he’d packed. “If I forget anything, put it in the mail.”

“What about the party?” Blake asked.

“You really think anyone cares whether I’m there or not?”

“Of course they do. I do.”

“You might be the only one.” Sam opened the driver’s door, eyeing his friend, not surprised by his look of concern. Blake had spent the last few days trying to convince Sam to stay—all to no avail. “All they care about is the free food and booze.”

“Which begs the question, why bother having a party if you’re not going to be there?”

“Pass out a few business cards, tell them what a great real estate agent you are, then write it all off on your taxes.” He clapped Blake on his shoulder, giving him a grim smile. “Besides, you’re making a second whole commission off this deal. And I get to make my laser. Win-win.”

“Why does it feel like lose-lose?”

“All in the perspective, my friend.” As upbeat as he tried to sound, there was a hollowness about the words. It didn’t matter how many times he convinced himself that he was doing the right thing, he always came back to one thought. Everything felt empty without Remi. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”

“Look, I’ll be the first to admit I thought you were jumping off the deep end for someone you barely knew, but after hearing everything that happened, I think she deserves to know how you feel. She deserves a call at the very least.”

“Already did.”

“Did you actually explain things to her? In detail?”

“There’s nothing to explain. She’s moved on with her life. Time for me to do the same.” Sam smiled as he held out his hand.

They shook.

Blake stepped back, watching as Sam slid into the driver’s seat, turning the key in the ignition.

Apparently, the man wasn’t willing to let it go. He banged on the window, walking alongside the Jeep, keeping pace. “I’m kind of rethinking the whole wanting-my-space-back thing. I’ve gotten used to you working there.”

Sam, worried that Blake intended to follow him all the way out to the street, hit the brakes. He sat there a moment, both hands gripping the steering wheel.

As much as he appreciated everything his friend was trying to do, there was no way he could begin to describe the impossibility of reversing this course of action.

Remi had made her choice—and whatever her plans, they didn’t include him.

“I’m okay with this,” he said, seeing the concern etched on Blake’s face. “You should be, too. Besides, you’re making a ton of money.”

“You know I don’t care about the money.”

“Somehow I don’t think you’ll turn it down, either.”

“Well, it’d be stupid to let it go to waste.”

“Better hurry or you’ll be late to the party.” Sam waved, then drove off.

He stopped at the first gas station, filled the tank, then glanced at his phone sitting in the center console. He picked it up, tempted to call Remi’s number, when a car pulled up behind him, the driver honking the horn.

Sure, he could call Remi again, but he wasn’t sure what good that would do. She had his number. She could have called him back at any time, but she hadn’t.

He was fine with that.

Right.

As long as she was happy.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT

Remi walked into the Lighthouse, seeing Blake at the bar with a few of his friends, laughing at something. Sam was nowhere in sight. She approached, tapping him on the shoulder.

He turned, saw her, his smile fading. “Remi . . . What are you doing here?”

“Looking for Sam,” she said. “Do you happen to know where he is?”

“He took off about an hour ago for San Diego.”

“Oh . . . He told me he’d be here. The finally-getting-out-of-your-office party.”

“You have no idea, do you?”

Though it was a question, it seemed more of a statement. “No idea about what?”

“We should probably discuss this outside.” He set his beer on the bar, then led her to the exit. When the door fell shut behind them, he studied her a moment, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. “How long has it been since you two have talked?”

“He called yesterday. To tell me Adrian Kyril pled guilty . Why?”

Blake took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I’m not sure how to tell you this.”

“Tell me what?” she asked, feeling her heart start a slow thud in her chest.

“He packed up. Leaving.”

“Leaving? To where?”

“He’s taking his old job with DARPA. They’re interested in giving him lab time to work on that laser. And . . . Well, you know how much he wants to finish that project.”

None of that made sense. That was the one thing Sam was sure about, finishing his argon laser on his own. He’d told her he’d lost the funding. But not that he was going back to DARPA.

This was all her fault. Had he not followed her halfway across the world, he wouldn’t have missed his investor meeting that Blake had set up for him.

Blake, apparently, must have guessed what she was thinking. “Look. Sam could’ve agreed to this other deal for the funding. Everything was lined up. The money was there. The timing was off, is all.”

“Because he was in Greece. Helping me.”

He gave a slight shrug. “ C’est la vie .”

Maybe for someone else, but Remi was certain that Sam shared her feelings. Life was what you made it. If something happened, you made it work. Hadn’t they proved that over and over again in Fourni? “What’s he doing in San Diego?”