Master of the Game by Sidney Sheldon

“What a lovely room,” Lucy exclaimed. Her voice was unexpectedly soft and mellow, with no trace of a Texas accent. “Do you spend much time here?” she asked Tony.

“No.”

She waited for him to go on. Then, “Did you grow up here?”

“Partly.”

Kate picked up the conversation, adroitly smoothing over Tony’s silence. “Some of Tony’s happiest memories are of this house. The poor man is so busy he doesn’t get much chance to come back here and enjoy it, do you, Tony?”

He gave his mother a cool look and said, “No. As a matter of fact, I should be in C-canada—”

“But he postponed it so he could meet both of you,” Kate finished for him.

“Well, I’m mighty pleased,” Charlie Wyatt said. “I’ve heard a lot about you, son.” He grinned. “You wouldn’t want to come to work for me, would you?”

“I don’t think that’s q-quite what my mother had in mind, Mr. Wyatt.”

Charlie Wyatt grinned again. “I know.” He turned to look at Kate. “Your mother’s quite a lady. You should have seen her rope and hog-tie everybody at that White House meetin’. She—” He stopped as Frederick Hoffman and his daughter, Marianne, entered the room. Marianne Hoffman was a pale version of her father. She had the same aristocratic features and she had long, blond hair. She wore an off-white chiffon dress. Next to Lucy Wyatt she looked washed out.

“May I present my daughter, Marianne?” Count Hoffman said. “I’m sorry we’re late,” He apologized. “The plane was delayed at La Guardia.”

“Oh, what a shame,” Kate said. Tony was aware that Kate had arranged the delay. She had had the Wyatts and the Hoffmans flown up to Maine in separate planes, so that the Wyatts would arrive early and the Hoffmans late. “We were just having a drink. What would you like?”

“A Scotch, please,” Count Hoffman said.

Kate turned to Marianne. “And you, my dear?”

“Nothing, thank you.”

A few minutes later, the other guests began to arrive, and Tony circulated among them, playing the part of the gracious host. No one except Kate could have guessed how little the festivities meant to him. It was not, Kate knew, that Tony was bored. It was simply that he was completely removed from what was happening around him. He had lost his pleasure in people. It worried Kate.

Two tables had been set in the large dining room. Kate seated Marianne Hoffman between a Supreme Court justice and a senator at one table, and she seated Lucy Wyatt on Tony’s right at the other table. All the men in the room—married and unmarried—were eyeing Lucy. Kate listened to Lucy trying to draw Tony into conversation. It was obvious that she liked him. Kate smiled to herself. It was a good beginning.

The following morning, Saturday, at breakfast, Charlie Wyatt said to Kate, “That’s a mighty pretty yacht you’ve got sittin’ out there, Mrs. Blackwell. How big is it?”

“I’m really not quite sure.” Kate turned to her son. “Tony, how large is the Corsair?”

His mother knew exactly how large it was, but Tony said politely, “Eighty f-feet.”

“We don’t go in much for boats in Texas. We’re in too much of a hurry. We do most of our travelin’ in planes.” Wyatt gave a booming laugh. “Guess maybe I’ll try it and get my feet wet.”

Kate smiled. “I was hoping you would let me show you around the island. We could go out on the boat tomorrow.”

Charlie Wyatt looked at her thoughtfully and said, “That’s mighty kind of you, Mrs. Blackwell.”

Tony quietly watched the two of them and said nothing. The first move had just been made, and he wondered whether Charlie Wyatt was aware of it. Probably not. He was a clever businessman, but he had never come up against anyone like Kate Blackwell.

Kate turned to Tony and Lucy. “It’s such a beautiful day. Why don’t you two go for a sail in the catboat?”

Before Tony could refuse, Lucy said, “Oh, I’d love that.”

“I’m s-sorry,” Tony said curtly. “I’m expecting s-some overseas calls.” Tony could feel his mother’s disapproving eyes on him.

Kate turned to Marianne Hoffman. “I haven’t seen your father this morning.”