When the phone rang fifteen minutes later, he almost didn't answer it, thinking it was Danela asking what he wanted for lunch. His voice was gruff when he barked, “Eberhart Tours.”
Logan listened, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline when the voice on the other end of the line asked if he could handle a tour of twenty-four people in four days' time. His mind raced as he calculated the money in his head. Talk about Divine Providence. Christ, he must be the luckiest guy in the world “Only if your people are prepared to rough it. All our tours have been booked solid for months,” he said urbanely. “Our deluxe tours are booked a year in advance.” He rifled through his desk to find the single sheet of paper with the list of travel agencies he'd dealt with in the past. Nowhere on the list was the name Alpine Travel. Hot damn. “Such short notice requires payment in full. You'll need to wire the money to our bank here in Nairobi within twenty-four hours. Remember, we're eight hours ahead of you. I'll fax the registration forms for all your clients to sign. I'm assuming they have visas.”
The voice on the other end of the phone assured him that all the passports were in order, and she had personally walked them to the proper offices to get them stamped with the Kenyan and Tanzanian visas. “They're middle-aged CPAs, all men, city dwellers,” she went on to say. Hesitantly, she asked, “What exactly does roughing it mean? There's nothing in your brochure that mentions that kind of tour.”
“That's because we rarely do it. Rough means tents, lots of riding, lots of walking, nourishing fresh food but nothing elaborate. We'll provide the tents and sleeping bags. There won't be any hot showers. I'll need the flight information at the time you wire the monies to our bank. All the forms are in back of the brochure. Are your clients a package tour?”
“Yes, they are. They all seem to be amateur photographers.”
“There's no way I can send out our travel bags for them to arrive in time. They'll be handed out on arrival if that meets with your approval. One of our people will meet your clients at the airport. He'll be carrying a placard and wearing a green Eberhart uniform.”
“Mr. Eberhart, could we briefly touch on the schedule?”
“Why don't I have my secretary type it up and fax it to you, in say, ninety minutes or so. Phone calls are very expensive from here to the States. Will you still be in your office?”
“My office is in my home. That will be fine, Mr. Eberhart. I appreciate you accommodating my group. Let me give you my phone number as well as the fax number.”
Logan scribbled on a pad. “It's been nice talking with you, Miss Joclyn.”
“Take good care of my people. I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but I just started the business, and this is my first major tour. I want everything to go perfectly.”
Logan looked down at the travel-agent list. That certainly explained everything. “I'm sure your group will have the time of their lives. I'll be in touch if need be.”
Logan's next call was to Danela. “Get back here as soon as you can and bring some lunch. We have a tour of twenty-four people arriving in three days, four if you go by Stateside time. We need to fax some things to the States as soon as possible. Of course they have visas. That was one of the first things I asked. They'll be wiring the money into our account first thing in the morning. I explained it would be roughing it, and Miss Joclyn said that was okay with her group, who, by the way, are all male CPAs and everyone knows CPAs are the most boring professionals there are. Plus, they're city people. I want you on this safari, Danela.”
“Oh, no. I did that once. You go. I don't like the bush, and I'm not sleeping in a tent.”
“Then I'll cancel. It's that simple. Twenty-four people. Calculate the money in your head. It's seventeen days out of your life. So you won't be able to shop for a while. Think of what you can buy when you get back. You're going!”
Logan squared his shoulders. Twenty-four times twelve grand a pop was a tidy little sum of money. Tomorrow he would pay two of the guides and give them a bonus. The head of the motor pool would replace the distributor caps on three of the land cruisers, and he was off to the races. The household staff could clean and air the sleeping bags and tents and lay in provisions. He could make it work if he put his mind to it. He could do anything if he put his mind to it.
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It was midafternoon when Danela turned off the computer. “Okay, Logan, it's done.”
“Read it to me, Danela.”
“The whole thing?”
“I want to make sure this goes right. First impressions are important. These people are plunking out twelve grand each for this safari. We'll put them up the first night at the Nairobi Safari Club. I'll go there personally tomorrow morning to pay for the night's lodging. I'll do the same thing and pay cash for the flight to Masai Mara National Reserve. From that point on, you're roughing it. Now let's hear it.”
Danela gritted her teeth. It never paid to argue with Logan because she always lost. “We go through customs. I tell them what a bustling city Nairobi is. I tell them Nairobi is in the heart of the Kenyan Highlands and mention that it is at an elevation of fifty-five hundred feet with warm sunny days and cool nights. I'll point out the riotous colors of the plants along the street. This is a mistake. I feel it in every bone of my body. There's no way you can pull this off. You're up to something. What are you planning?”
Logan stared unblinkingly at the woman he'd spent the last eight years with. Once she'd been ravishingly beautiful. When he first met her, she looked like a young Rita Hayworth. Unfortunately for Danela, the African sun had not been kind to her. She still had the same voluptuous body he'd lusted after in the beginning of their relationship, but even that was losing its appeal. He hated the way her leathery skin felt next to his, hated the heavy, greasy makeup she wore. She still turned men's heads, so that was a plus. She'd always been a quick study, and she knew the safari business as well as he did. What she did not have was a head for numbers of any kind. And at the moment, he didn't much care for the calculating look in her eye. He didn't trust her any farther than he could throw her. He had to tread carefully where she was concerned.
“As a matter of fact, I am up to something, as you put it. My mind has been racing since that call came through. It's safe to say we've both learned from our mistakes. Sometimes God in His infinite wisdom gives us a second chance. Alpine Travel is our second chance. If we pull this off and if things go smoothly, I want us to get married when you get back.”
Danela sniffed, and her eyes lost a little of their wariness. “How can we get married? You aren't divorced. Don't think I'm going to go through one of those tribal weddings.”
“Kristine had me declared legally dead after seven years. I know that for a fact,” he lied smoothly. “She's married again.”
“How do you know that, Logan? You never said a thing about any of that to me.”
“That's because it was my private business. I have never invaded your privacy. I never asked you for details of your life. I expected the same from you. We had a deal, Danela, in case you forgot.”
“How do I know you aren't lying?” Danela asked, suspicion ringing in her voice.
“I guess you'll just have to trust me. If you like, we can apply for a marriage license before you leave on safari. It will give you something to look forward to while you're out there with the group. It's time for us to get married. I don't like living in sin,” Logan said virtuously.
“I don't have a wedding dress. Where in the hell am I going to get a wedding dress?”
Logan forced patience into his voice. “There are any number of places where you can get a wedding dress. However, knowing your shopping history, how does this sound? When you get back, you go to England, to Harrods. I want you to be happy. You can shop to your heart's content. We'll be rolling in money. I've been running all of this over and over in my mind. I'm going to stay in touch with Alpine Travel, by phone because that's more personal. I'm sure the lady knows others who are just starting out with their own businesses. I'll offer some cut rates, make a few deals, and if things work out, we'll climb back to the top. I can do it, Danela, but I need your help. I want you on that safari, and I want you to charm those number crunchers right out of their jockeys. Wear those skintight flight suits you have. I want every one of those guys to come back with a hard-on. I want them to remember you first, Africa second. Tell me we're in this together, Danela.”
“Swear on my life, Logan, that I can go to England and Harrods? If you swear, I'll do it. I also want to see the ticket before we leave.”
“Not a problem. I'll pick it up first thing in the morning. How much money do you think you'll need?”
Danela's mind raced. “At least twenty-five thousand,” she said smartly.
“You got it.”
“All right. We have a deal. Do you still want me to wear something sexy tonight?”
“Damn right. Let's have two ceremonies. One here in town and one in the Serengeti.”
“Okay. It's getting late. You better fax this itinerary off now.”
“Are you sure you covered everything?”
“Game viewing, bird-watching, the salt-lick watering holes, and hopefully sightings of the elusive bongo and leopard. I did say that might not happen. I covered our asses on that one. They'll love Amboseli. Seeing Mount Kilimanjaro will take the sting away if we can't see any bongo or leopards. Two game runs while we're there. I think they will be stunned at the Masai tribesmen. I have to wonder though how they'll react to the tribe when they see them draw blood from a cow's jugular vein and mix it with milk. We might lose a few for a day or so. Not to mention the huts constructed of cow dung. I hate that part, Logan, I really do. I'm always sick for two days afterward.”
“You'll get over it. The name of the game here is seeing everything with an expert such as yourself explaining the customs. They want to take home memories. You are going to give them those memories to take home. We can do this, Danela, if we work together. Think about it, honey, this morning we were down for the count. In a few hours' time our lives have turned around. We've booked a safari, you're going to London to shop, and we're finally getting married.”
“It is rather wonderful. It isn't a dream, is it, Logan?”
“We'll know by morning when the money hits our bank account. Two hundred and eighty-eight thousand dollars minus the immediate expenses of the rough-cut safari will allow me to settle up with all our creditors, send you on your shopping trip, plan a decent wedding, and still leave us a modest balance. We'll be golden as of tomorrow morning. There is one little problem I want to run by you.”
“A hitch! I knew it!” Danela squealed, her eyes sparking.
“As usual, you're off and running and you aren't listening. The moment that money hits the bank, it has to be transferred or the bank will snatch it. You know that as well as I do. I'll be on the computer within seconds. I want you to know and understand this right up front. I'm going to wire it to the Swiss bank account. If I don't do that, Danela, the bank will seize it. Are you okay with this? If not, we have to call the whole deal off. There's no other way to handle it.”
Danela's brow furrowed. Logan was right. She wasn't about to give up a shopping trip to London and marriage to Logan over a bank wire. “I'm okay with it, Logan. I'm going home now. Send your fax.”
At the door, Danela turned. “This is going to work, isn't it, Logan?”
“It's going to work, Danela. Trust me.”
“If you fuck me over, Logan, I'll cut your heart out. Trust me on that one.”
Logan's voice turned virtuous again. “Just because your old lover tried to screw you over doesn't mean I'm like he was. I've shared everything, and I resent your attitude. It's sick,” he said, picking up the itinerary and heading for the fax machine. “I'll be home as soon as I finish up and take care of a few phone calls. Use that gardenia perfume I gave you for Christmas. This is going to be a night to remember.”
Two hours later, Logan leaned back in his swivel chair, his booted foot hooked on one of the open desk drawers. In his hand was a glass with three fingers of hundred-proof bourbon. He sucked at it greedily, his mind racing.
A smug look settled on Logan's face. He was one of those rare people, in his opinion, who had the even rarer ability to take a situation and play it through in his mind, accepting and rejecting even the smallest nuance to a problem. His face grew more smug. His army training was something he practiced almost every day of his life. In one way or another.
Africa had been a disappointment, falling way short of his expectations. His childhood fantasies were just that, fantasies. Yes, he'd been successful for a short while. But this land was not the place of his dreams. He'd known that after the first six months, but he was in too deep to give up. Besides, he'd never been a quitter. What a stupid kid he must have been back then. The word
stupid
brought pain to his face. Dumb perhaps, never stupid.
He could get out of this intact. He could make it all work for him again. Two weeks in one of those pricey spas in Switzerland would give him back his waistline. Some custom-made clothes, a new hairstyle instead of his bush cut, along with a few facials would turn him into the man Kristine had kissed good-bye. It was time to check into a clinic to get a physical. What better place than Switzerland? Besides, he was going to need some medical forms. Some letterheads for his plan. He also had to buy some gifts. Nothing elaborate. Definitely thoughtful. Oh yeah. It was all going to be a piece of cake. Logan swallowed the last of his drink, then poured another.