Crystal Cove (Friday Harbor #4)(73)

Jason looked down at Justine. “How does that sound?”

“Oh … are you asking me something?” Her tone was pure saccharine. “You want my opinion? My preference?”

The concierge’s expression was politely blank as Jason turned to him. “I think we’ll go for a stroll on the boardwalk,” Jason said. “Just give me a ring when the cottage is ready. Oh, and please cancel my friend’s room reservation. She’ll be staying with me.”

“Yes, sir.” The concierge smiled and looked at Justine expectantly. “May I ask for the name on the reservation?”

“Justine Hoffman,” she muttered.

“Miss Hoffman. Welcome to the Del. We’ll do everything possible to make certain you have an enjoyable stay.”

Justine accompanied Jason through the lobby of the main Victorian building. As they neared the entrance of the garden patio courtyard, a bellman dressed in a uniform complete with a red vest and a black bowler hat recognized Jason. “Mr. Black. Need the car brought around?”

“Not at the moment, thanks.”

“Have a good one, sir.”

As they continued through the lobby, Justine frowned at Jason. “I am not impressed by the way people suck up to you.”

“Yes you are. Even I’m impressed by it. Here, let me carry the briefcase.”

“I’m just staying for one night,” she said, handing it over. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning.”

“Stay the whole weekend,” he coaxed.

“Sorry, I can’t.”

“You still haven’t forgiven me for borrowing the spellbook,” he said rather than asked.

“You took the most treasured possession I own without asking. I had a heart attack when I saw it was missing. You took ten years off my life.”

“Tell me how I can make it up to you.”

“There’s nothing you can do.”

“I’ll hire a skywriter to write an apology over all of San Diego. I’ll take you to the Taj Mahal. I’ll start a charity for wounded kittens.”

She gave him a disdainful glance.

“You like books,” Jason continued, undeterred. “Did you know that L. Frank Baum wrote The Wizard of Oz while living at the Del?”

“Yes, I knew that. What about it?”

“Right now there’s a display of Wizard of Oz memorabilia in the lobby. Including a first-edition copy autographed by the author and the entire cast of the 1939 movie.”

“That’s cool,” Justine said. “I’d like to see that. But why are you—”

“I’ll buy it for you as a souvenir.”

She stopped in her tracks, obliging him to stop, as well. Had he really made such an outrageous offer? “That’s not a souvenir. A souvenir is a T-shirt or a snow globe.”

“You’ll need something to read on the way home.”

“A book like that would cost a fortune,” she said, adding in a highly insulted tone, “How many times do I have to tell you that I can’t be bought?” She paused. “The entire cast?”

“Including Toto.” Seeing her expression, Jason pressed his advantage. “His cute little paw print is right on the inside of the front cover.”

Had a woman ever faced such temptation? “I don’t want the book,” Justine forced herself to say. “Not even if the ruby slippers came with it.”

“What if I take you to dinner tonight? A table by the ocean, the two of us watching the sunset.”

Justine wanted to prolong her coolness toward him. However, she was hungry and tired, and the prospect of a fine meal with an ocean view was too tempting to resist.

“That might be nice,” she said grudgingly. “But even if I have dinner with you, it doesn’t mean you’re forgiven.”

“Am I at least a little bit forgiven?”

“Maybe a barely-measurable-by-science bit forgiven.”

“That’s a start.” Jason fished his cell phone from the inside of his suit jacket. “I’ll make the reservation.”

“All by yourself?” Justine asked in mocking awe. “You’re not going to have one of your minions do it?”

He gave her a sardonic glance and began to dial.

“Wait,” she said, recalling his schedule. “You have plans for the evening.”

“I’m completely free.”

“You’re supposed to have dinner with some computer-simulation guys tonight.”

Jason looked up from his phone. “How do you know that?”

“Priscilla gave me your schedule.”

He glowered down at the phone. “Bad minion,” he muttered.

“It’s no problem. I’ll just relax in the private hot tub while you go out for your business dinner.” Justine paused before adding, “I hope there are no rules about nudity. I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”

She heard his breath catch. “I’m canceling dinner.”

“At the last minute?”

“I cancel dinners all the time,” he informed her. “It’s part of my elusive charm.”

Justine couldn’t help smiling. “‘Elusive’ is one word for it.” As they reached the boardwalk, she paused to take in the view, the flat sand beach silvered with a heavy infusion of mica, the water, startling Pacific blue. “No wonder L. Frank Baum wrote such a great book while he stayed here,” she said. “It’s a magical view, isn’t it?”