“You don’t know,” she said with great earnestness. “You can’t see it’s not possible. You don’t have all the relevant facts, Eric.”
“Then give me the facts. Facts I can deal with calmly.”
“I wonder,” she murmured. For the first time since he arrived, he thought he detected a hint of a smile. “If you could, you wouldn’t be here now.”
“Love isn’t sensible, Lisa. Tell me one thing and never mind all the rest. Do you love me?”
“I … can’t.” She didn’t look at him. “It’s not allowed.”
“To hell with whether it’s ‘allowed’! His grip tightened on her wrists. “Do … you … love … me?” When she didn’t reply, he phrased it differently. “Tell me that you can’t love me.”
“Eric, I can’t. I can’t! But I think … I think I must.” Her voice was breaking, full of wonder and amazement at the unexpected confession. “I think I do.”
He moved a little closer to her. “That’s all that matters, Lisa. That’s all I want to know. Forget about your past, your present. I don’t care what you’ve done, or where you’ve been, or what you’ve signed your name to. If you love me, everything’s going to work out all right.”
“It won’t, Eric,” she whispered. “It’s not enough.” She was clearly frightened now, and not just for him. Now she seemed afraid for herself.
“It is enough. Believe it. Believe in me, in us.” He pulled her to him. When their lips touched this time, she let herself melt into him. There was no restraint, no testing now. No holding back. She’d committed herself.
“How very touching.”
They turned sharply to stare across the room. Tarragon stood in an arched doorway.
“Touching and foolish.” He’d been leaning against the jamb. Now he stood straight.
Eric wasn’t really surprised to see him. Tarragon walked into the living room. As he did so several other large men filed in behind him. Two moved to stand in front of the main door while their counterparts hurried to block the balcony. They took up their assigned positions confidently and waited for additional directions from their boss.
“So it was you all along,” Eric said. “So you’re the one who’s keeping …”
Tarragon shook his head. “No, I’m only an employee, Mr. Abbott. As is Ms. Tambor. I am sorry. I thought it wouldn’t come to this, but you insist on sticking your nose into business that doesn’t concern you. Business you have no business knowing anything about. I don’t know what’s to be done with you. What would you suggest?” He quickly raised a hand when Eric seemed ready to reply.
“No, too good a straight-line.” His eyes narrowed as they moved to the woman curled tightly now against Eric. “Go to your bedroom, Ms. Tambor.”
She stood up, said meekly, “Yes sir.”
Mouth agape, Eric tried to hold her back. “No, Lisa. You don’t have to.”
Her expression was as mournful as a wounded manatee. “I do have to, Eric. I tried to tell you. Oh, how I tried to tell you!” She sounded hurt for both of them. “But you wouldn’t listen to me.”
“Lisa!” he shouted. She didn’t look back but dashed across the floor and slammed the bedroom door behind her. Internal hydraulics prevented any loud noise.
Every man in the room had watched her go. Now they turned less admiring stares on Eric. He sat frozen on the couch, staring at the silent door. There were no words to describe the pain inside him.
Hadn’t she just confessed her love for him? Well, almost, anyway. Hadn’t he just held her in his arms? She’d responded to him, physically and emotionally. It wasn’t impossible!
What kind of hold did Tarragon and those he worked for have over her? His pain turned to anger. Drugs? Maybe they had her hooked on some powerful narcotic and she feared losing her only assured source of supply. Or perhaps it was some subtle kind of hypnosis. There were ways of controlling a human being that were not talked about on the opto meditext.
He stood up, his fingers clenching and unclenching. “How do you do it?” he whispered tightly. “How do you come off ordering her around like that? What have you people done to her?”
Tarragon ignored all the questions. He was not as polite as he’d been in the restaurant.
“Are you quite happy now, Mr. Abbott? Did you have your little rendezvous? Did you enjoy it? I hope so. It’s going to cost you. How much and in what way, I don’t know. That’s not my decision. But something’s going to have to be done to rectify the damage you’ve done.”
“Look, if it’s a matter of money …”
Tarragon grinned mirthlessly. “Money. Why does the average citizen always think in terms of money? Reductio ad absurdum. It’s not a question of money. Never was. No, you’ve caused problems for people who prefer things to go smoothly. The worst part of it is you’ve managed to confuse and upset that young woman.” He gestured toward the tightly shut bedroom door. “That’s going to trouble a great many people. I’d like to know how you managed it. They’re going to want to know.”
“You’ve been watching,” Eric said quietly. “You’ve been watching since I got here.”
“Yes, I’ve been watching. D’you think I’m no good at my work?”
“Did you enjoy it?” Eric asked nastily.
“Not a bit. Nor did I dislike it. It’s all part of my job. I wish you’d understand that. I’m not paid to make value judgments, Mr. Abbott. Just to carry out directions. Like my subordinates.” The four men who’d followed him into the living room shifted their stances slightly, commenting without words.
“These are not a couple of ignorant thugs, Mr. Abbott, like the two you encountered in Phoenix. I don’t think you can make much trouble for them. For your own sake and good health I’d advise you not to try.”
Eric listened but didn’t hear. No way was he leaving Lisa in the company of these people without putting up a fight, however desperate, however futile. He thought of making a run for the bedroom door. Would Lisa let him in? Would she help him? From the manner in which she’d reacted to Tarragon’s command, he doubted it.
She said he’d confused her. Tarragon had just finished saying the same thing. Did she love him or not? Or had she simply mouthed the words, perhaps for Tarragon’s benefit? His triumph of moments earlier had been dumped indifferently at his feet. He almost looked forward to the coming, pointless fight. It would be a pleasure to incur some pain that might drown out the pain he was feeling now.
“You’re an interesting man, Eric Abbott,” Tarragon was saying, “but not interesting enough to occupy me further. I have other business that needs taking care of. I should have pegged you for a fanatic earlier and had you picked up outside the restaurant.”
“You wouldn’t have done that,” Eric told him. “Too many witnesses.”
“Perhaps. You learn fast, Mr. Abbott. Not that it’s going to do you any good. I offered you safe passage out of this, practically begged you to leave. You wouldn’t listen to me.”
“And what now?” Eric asked him. “Do I end up like Polikartos?”
