Page 163 of Sapphire Sunset

The hostess for Camilla’s regarded them with eyes gonesaucer wide. Connor and Logan sitting down to a casual lunch with the hotel’spublic adversary. It was a reaction that spread silently, and not so subtly, throughoutthe surrounding staff as Connor led the three of them to a table by the window.He instructed the server to get Sylvia whatever she wanted, and Sylvia ordereda glass of the most expensive Chardonnay on the wine list.

Then a tense and uncomfortable silence settled. Sylviastudied their surroundings with a suspicious squint.

“He never brought me here,” she finally said. “This was hisspecial place, I guess. Which is surprising. No offense, but it’s a level downfrom where we’d usually stay when we traveled together. The Ritzes and theMandarin Orientals.”

If letting Sylvia cast insults against Sapphire Cove was theprice he’d have to pay for a meeting that would end this once and for all,Connor was willing to do it.

“I’d expected to hear from your attorneys by now,” Sylviasaid.

“I understand the civil suit is proceeding accordingly,”Connor said.

“Not that. You know I don’t mean that. I’m referring toour…exchanges.”

“On Twitter, you mean.”

Her eyes flashed to his. She’d never publicly connected herselfto the Stop Sapphire Cove account. Would she do so now? Instead, she looked upat the server who’d brought her wine, studied the glass for a beat as if shewas checking for the powdery threads of poison, then took a careful sip.

“It seems I was an old woman playing a young person’s game,”she finally said, swirling her glass. “My choice of words was intemperate. Andit sent the wrong impression.”

“Some of your best friends are gay, right?” Connor asked.

For a second, he regretted the remark, but she seemed slightlyamused by his sarcasm. Then she shifted her attention to Logan. “I meant to saythat you are so devastatingly handsome, Mr. Murdoch, that your good looks wouldbe capable of driving anyone to distraction, whatever their sexual identity.”

“Gee,” Logan said, “thanks.”

“The point is, I didn’t make my point, and that’s on me.”

“Your point was that Logan was a criminal and I didn’t havethe good judgment to see it,” Connor said. “And with all due respect, neitherwas true.”

Sylvia sipped her wine.

“Should I get us lunch menus?” Connor asked.

“In all honesty, how much respect do you think I’m due, Mr. Harcourt?”she asked.

“You haven’t heard from our lawyer. That should answer yourquestion.”

“It does. But only in part.”

“A few years ago I lost my grandfather, then shortly afterthat, my father. Sometimes the grief hurt so badly I couldn’t speak. I can’timagine how bad that pain must be when it’s your husband. After your pressconference, Logan and I spent three nights apart, and our future together was…notexactly sure. They were some of the worst days of my life.”

“Ah, so you pity me, then.” Sylvia sipped her wine bitterly.

“I sympathize. It’s not exactly the same thing. And I’m no strangerto my uncle’s abuse. And neither was your husband.”

She looked studious and wary now, and not quite so rigid.

“And apparently you played a pivotal role in getting him topublicly admit his guilt,” she finally said. “That was not lost on me.”

Connor nodded but figured it was best not to take too muchcredit for anything until he had a better sense of where this unexpectedmeeting was headed.

“I’ll take the Twitter account down as soon as I leavehere,” she said, “provided we both agree to never speak about this publiclyagain. If I’m called upon to make any statements about the civil suit, I’ll besure to direct them at your uncle and his henchmen and not either of you or thehotel.”

“And in exchange?” Connor asked.

“We bury the hatchet. You won’t make any public statementsabout me either. And, of course, there’ll be no further legal action in thismatter.”

Sylvia Milton was a shrewd negotiator. What she wanted wassomething she hadn’t said aloud. She wanted to avoid making a public apology tothe hotel. To Connor and Logan. And for a second, he wanted to protest. But hereminded himself of how badly she’d been throttled, and of the not so simplefact that her husband had actually been blackmailed inside of these very walls.

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