There were fortunes to be made in African land and property. Prices were tripling every year, but most big American firms were losing out, too nervous about the volatile politics and economy to invest in the region. Meanwhile, local conglomerates like the Olam Group and Africa Israel Investments were making out like bandits. In South Africa, what should have been Kruger-Brent’s heartland, new companies like Endeavour and Gabriel McGregor’s Phoenix were outpacing them, leveraging themselves up to the hilt and audaciously grabbing market share from right under their noses.

Lexi admired Phoenix’s brilliantly simple business model. She made a mental note to copy it, then squeeze Gabriel McGregor out of business at the earliest opportunity.

Jamie McGregor built this firm in Africa. He wasn’t afraid to take a risk. Nor am I.

The week before Christmas, August Sandford asked Lexi to have lunch with him.

“I never see you these days. Real estate is horribly quiet without you.”

Lexi smiled. It was the closest he’d ever come to paying her a compliment. She agreed to lunch the following day.

The concierge at the Harvard Club looked disapprovingly at the group of photographers mobbing Lexi as she emerged from her town car. In a cream cashmere coat from Donna Karan, her famous gray Blackwell eyes covered with oversize Oliver Peoples, she looked every inch the budding tycoon.

“Sorry, John.” Lexi smiled. The concierge melted faster than the snowflakes on the sidewalk. “I’ve been out of town for a few weeks.” She nodded toward the paparazzi. “I’m afraid they’re worse than usual. Has Mr. Sandford arrived yet?”

“Yes, Ms. Templeton. His usual table.”

August watched Lexi as she weaved her way through the other diners toward him. She wore a crisply tailored pantsuit she’d had custom-made in Hong Kong, and looked professional and poised. August thought: She’s grown up. Though he’d die rather than let her know it, he’d become genuinely fond of Lexi these past two years. His initial, envy-fueled attraction had been replaced by something worryingly close to friendship. August Sandford had never been friends with a woman before. Perhaps that was why this whole thing felt so awkward?

August was not looking forward to today’s lunch. He had things to tell Lexi that he knew she wouldn’t want to hear. Things that might make him look foolish in her eyes. Or paranoid. Or jealous. Or all three.

Lexi sat down.

“So what’s been going on? What’ve I missed? Did you close the Hammersman deal yet?”

August grinned. He loved the way she cut straight to the chase.

“We did. Yesterday. How was Africa?”

“Interesting. Hot. The food sucked.”

“You missed New York?”

“I missed the office. But don’t tell anyone.”

They ordered food. Lexi could tell August had something on his mind.

“Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?” She took a bite of her turkey club sandwich. After two weeks of boerewors and Mrs. Ball’s chutney washed down with rancid rooibos tea, it tasted like manna from heaven.

August bit his lip. “Have you seen Max since you got back?”

“Not yet. Why?”

“It may be nothing.” He paused. “It’s just…some of the things he’s been doing recently. Are you sure he’s given up all hope of the chairmanship?”

Lexi put down her sandwich.

“Of course I’m sure. What’s this about, August?”

“I overheard Max in the men’s room a few weeks ago. He was talking to Tristram Harwood, claiming credit for selling one of the online gambling businesses.”

“Jester. I know. He sold it to KKR.”

“Except he didn’t.” August took a sip of his iced water. “That was never Max’s deal. It was Jim Bruton’s.”

“Was it?”

“Uh-huh. Jim challenged Max about stealing his thunder. Four days later, he was packing up his desk.”

Lexi shrugged. “So? Bruton got canned. What do you care? I thought you hated him.”

“I do. That’s not the point.” August tried a different tack. “Max was supposed to be in Switzerland last month, touring pharmaceuticals. As soon as he heard you’d been sent to Africa, he canceled the trip. He’s been in New York the whole time you were gone, playing golf with Harwood and Logan Marshall. He even invited me to dinner at the Lowell, then on to Cindy’s. I’m telling you, he’s been schmoozing big-time.”

Lexi felt her chest tighten, but not for the reason August Sandford intended. Cindy’s was a strip joint, known for having the most beautiful pole dancers in the city. The thought of Max fondling some seminaked goddess while she was in Africa made her sick with jealousy.

“Did you go? To Cindy’s?”

August ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “No. Lexi, I don’t think you’re hearing me. I think Max is plotting against you behind your back. I think he’s up to something.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Am I? What happened in Italy, Lexi? That time that I was supposed to meet you in Florence.”

“Nothing happened.” Lexi sounded defensive. “You disappeared to Taiwan without bothering to call me. Max was in Italy for some deal or other. We had dinner. Who cares? It was a year ago, for God’s sake.”

“Taiwan was a setup. There was no meeting. Someone called Karen, my assistant, posing as Mr. Li’s secretary. I flew halfway around the world for nothing.”

Lexi laughed.

“And you think it was Max? Come on! It’s a bit Mission: Impossible, isn’t it?”

August was silent for a few moments.

“Lexi,” he said at last. “Are you and Max an item?”

The red flush on Lexi’s cheeks was as much from anger as embarrassment.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a simple question. Are you sleeping with him?”

Lexi stood up. “In what alternate universe would that possibly be your business?”

Furious, she turned and stormed out of the restaurant.

Who the hell does August Sandford think he is? My father?

August was about to call after her, then remembered that she wouldn’t be able to hear him. He got up and followed her into the street.

It was still snowing. Grabbing Lexi by the shoulder, August spun her around to face him. Only then did he realize that they were surrounded by snapping photographers. By this time tomorrow, the gossip columns would no doubt be touting him as Lexi Templeton’s new love interest.

“I think you’re in love with Max.” Having come this far, he might as well get it off his chest. “And I think it’s clouding your judgment. He’s using you, Lexi.”

Click click click.

Angrily, Lexi shrugged off his hand.

“If anyone’s judgment is clouded, it’s yours. You’re jealous. You’re jealous because Max and I…”

“What? Max and you what?”

At that moment John, the Harvard Club concierge, scurried out of the club like a groundhog. He forced his way through the knot of paparazzi, carrying Lexi’s coat over his arm. Stepping in front of August, he bundled Lexi into it.

“For heaven’s sake, Ms. Templeton. Leaving without your coat? You’ll freeze.”

“Thank you, John.”

Grimly, Lexi buttoned the cream wool up to the neck. With a last, furious look at August, she climbed into the back of her town car. The driver sped away, spraying the photographers with filthy, traffic-blackened snow.

Lexi stared through the smoked-glass windows, trying to collect her thoughts.

“Back to the office, miss?”

“Not yet, Wilfred. If you wouldn’t mind just driving around for a little bit.”

Damn August and his stupid suspicions! What does he know? She ran through everything he’d told her again. Max and Jim Bruton had fallen out over a deal. So what? It happened all the time. Max canceled a trip to Europe. That could have been for any number of reasons. Max was playing golf with board members. Hardly a hanging offense. Admittedly the Taiwan thing was weird. But Lexi was sure there must be a perfectly rational explanation.