Flash

cautiously.
    "Talk to me about what happened to Logan Dane's paintings after his death, and I promise that when I do the piece on the Camelot Blue launch party I'll make it sound like the event was staged by Disney."
    Olivia tightened her hand around the phone. "I'll give you the same answer I give everyone else. When it comes to the subject of Logan Dane, I have absolutely no comment."
    "Is it true that you've got his pictures stored someplace and you're selling them off real slow so as not to flood the market and drive down the prices?"
    "Good-bye, Andy." Olivia tossed the phone back into the cradle.
    She wondered if Crawford Lee Wilder's version of the legend of Logan Dane was going to haunt her for the rest of her life.

    Jasper looked at Todd. "Don't get me wrong. I'm glad you came by the office to introduce yourself. I was just wondering if the reason you're here is because you're worried about the future of Glow, Inc., or because you're concerned about your sister?"
    "What do you think?" Todd did not take the seat that Jasper had offered. He went to stand at the office window, instead. "Just because most of the Chantrys you've met so far seem more concerned about their jobs and their Glow pensions, doesn't mean everyone is."
    "I'm glad to hear that." Jasper leaned back in his chair. "Makes a change."
    Todd shot him a quick, annoyed glance before turning back to the window. "It's not that they don't care about her, you know. It's just that they all think she can take care of herself. They expect her to look after them, not vice-versa."
    "I got that impression," Jasper said dryly.
    "A lot of it is Uncle's Rollie's fault. He always said that she inherited his head for business." Todd's jaw tightened. "He was right. But Olivia never wanted to take over Glow. She loves Light Fantastic."
    "It suits her."
    "Uncle Rollie knew that. But from the time she was little he drilled it into her that, after he was gone, she was supposed to make certain that Glow stayed in the family. It was a big burden to put on a kid's shoulders."
    "Have you considered the possibility that in the end he decided not to stick her with the full responsibility for Glow, after all?" Jasper asked quietly. "Maybe that's why he did the deal with me. Maybe it was a way of letting her off the hook."
    Todd's eyes narrowed. "That doesn't make any sense. Uncle Rollie intended to pay off the financing you arranged for him. He never intended for you to inherit half of Glow."
    "Fifty-one percent," Jasper corrected softly. "And bear in mind, Rollie was eighty-three years old. Who knows what he intended? I can tell you one thing, though."
    "What's that?"
    "Rollie was in no hurry to get out from under the loan I made him. By the terms of our contract, the first payments on the principal were not even scheduled to begin for another two years. All the payments he made before he died were interest only."
    "Why did you agree to that?"
    Jasper shrugged. "Felt like it. I've always had a good sense of timing when it comes to business."
    "Your timing was pretty damn good in this case, wasn't it?" Todd watched him warily. "You wound up owning half of a company that's set to make a lot of money in the years ahead."
    "Fifty-one percent," Jasper said. "I own a little more than half of the company. Why do I have to keep reminding everyone?"

    At seven that evening Jasper walked into the Light Fantastic studio with a pile of take-out boxes in his hands.
    Bolivar intercepted him within ten feet of the door.
    "Please tell me there's a pizza in one of those boxes," he said.
    "Bottom container. Help yourself."
    Bernie and Matty loomed in his path. Both gazed at the stack in his arms with longing eyes. He handed them each a take-out box. "Focaccia sandwiches."
    "Great." Bernie tore into his container with relish.
    "Mr. Sloan." Zara gave him her Sybil smile. "How lovely to see you this evening. I don't suppose—?"
    "Phad Thai. Medium spicy."
    "One of my favorites," she murmured, relieving him of another box.
    By the time he walked through the door of Olivia's office, he was down to one box of chilled buckwheat noodles with sea vegetables, wasabi, and dipping sauce.
    She peered at him through her designer glasses as he cleared a place on the corner of her desk. He put down the box and raised the lid.
    "What are you doing here?" she asked as he placed two packets of chopsticks and some napkins on the desk.
    "Feeding you. Have you noticed that I do that a lot these