A Race to Splendor (14 page)

“It’s a big job,” Amelia agreed, her mind leaping to the other subjects she’d come to discuss. She gestured toward a series of two-by-four posts shoring up the ceiling above Thayer’s one-man excavation. “It’s good to support what’s left of the floor above like that. There’re some dangerous load factors to contend with, aren’t there?”

Thayer nodded as an awkward silence ensued.

“Right,” Amelia said at length and dug deeper into her portmanteau. She extracted a set of furled drawings and smoothed them in opposite directions. J.D. reached for two misshapen bricks to keep them flat. Amelia also placed a note on the improvised table. “Miss Morgan wished me to inform you that she has gotten permission from the owners of the Fairmont to offer you a room in the basement over there.”

J.D. was absorbed in gazing at her drawings and didn’t look up as he said, “The Law brothers themselves made this offer?”

Amelia nodded. “The note’s from them.”

Thayer quickly scanned the short missive. “Well, that’s… interesting.” He looked up and smiled faintly. “And where will
you
be living?”

Ignoring his question, she replied, “The Laws told Miss Morgan that you’re welcome to use the Fairmont as a base until the foundation here is laid and the framing goes up, at which time they assume you’d prefer to move back.”

Thayer fingered the edges of the note from his rivals until the corners were black with soot, and set it down on the table again.

“That’s amazingly decent of them. I’m not quite sure I would have done the same if our situations had been reversed.” Amelia studied J.D.’s expression and decided she wasn’t quite sure either. “And while I appreciate this gesture of hospitality,” he continued, “it will do nothing to discourage my desire to be the first hotel open before April eighteenth next year.”

“You’ve made no secret of that. And I believe the Laws understand that’s your intention.”

He regarded her steadily. “I wish to know, by the way, if you are willing to do
your
utmost to help that happen—even if you too will be a guest of the Law brothers these next few months and answerable to their architect? I’ll need you available night and day while we push to get the Bay View rebuilt.”

J.D.’s piercing gaze underscored the intensity of his demands.

“Miss Morgan has already made arrangements for me to move into a room in the Fairmont’s basement,” she replied, “along with the rest of our staff working on these two projects. Of
course
I will work my hardest in the interests of my firm.”

“Even if it means besting your employer?”

“I don’t think of these rebuilding efforts as a competition, Mr. Thayer. Julia Morgan, the rest of her staff, and I are simply trying to construct two hotels in the space of ten months—as we’ve promised you and the Law brothers—that will be both beautiful
and
safe structures. Why must you always make everything a gambling game?”

“Because I am a betting man, and this
is
a competition.”

“And do you intend that a gambling club still be part of the rebuilding plans here?” she shot back. “I’ve had no instructions and we’ve designed nothing in that regard.”

“That’s because I haven’t even raised the funds to build the hotel itself, let alone an annex. But don’t worry, I haven’t given up on that score.” His dark eyes had taken on a cool, speculative gaze. “And I am most hopeful that the Committee of Fifty on the Reconstruction of San Francisco—whose executive board has several bankers I know, plus Ezra Kemp—will look favorably upon my requests for government funds. Therefore, I have every expectation that within the week, I shall have what I need to begin competing handily with the generous-spirited Law brothers.”

“Will you now?” It was a silly remark, but it was all she could think of.

Amelia had to admit she was rattled by the idea that Thayer could wave a magic wand and secure the money for the hotel and the gambling hall because of his contacts with the likes of Ezra Kemp. Julia had been having a devil of a time locating the materials she needed to commence reconstruction and the city’s politicos had done nothing to smooth the way. Amelia wondered how in the world she could work on a daily basis with a man who could be fair-minded and supportive one minute and cold and calculating the next—to say nothing of living and sleeping near him in close basement quarters for months.

“I would think that you’d had enough of the gambling life,” she ventured. “After all, thanks to the club you and Kemp built, you nearly lost your life. Why risk running such an unsavory business, dependent on the grace and favor of the scalawags in City Hall, when you can be a respectable hotel owner now?”

“But haven’t you heard? I’ve never been respectable.”

“Actually, I
have
heard that, Mr. Thayer.”

He arched an eyebrow, as if to say touché. Then he asked, “Are you a prude, Miss Bradshaw, when it comes to gambling? Your having lived in Paris made me think perhaps not. Didn’t you ever visit Monte Carlo?”

“Yes I did.”

She was more annoyed to recall the week spent with Etienne in the south of France—soon after which they had the altercation that had ended their relationship abruptly—than being called a prude by J.D. Thayer.

She reached for the handle of her portmanteau, suddenly desperate to be free of Thayer’s company. Then she met his gaze, refusing to be cowed by his veiled rudeness. “My objections to building a gambling hall as part of the restoration of the Bay View, Mr. Thayer, are rooted in my belief that allowing such activities in what is essentially a residential district is highly misguided. If we’re rebuilding a city, we have a golden opportunity to think in terms of appropriate use of land, of the pressing needs of the citizenry, and—”

By the middle of her pronouncements, the corners of Thayer’s mouth faintly curled.

“You’re not a prude, you’re a preacher!” he said, laughing. “The truth is, though, that I think you’re correct in saying that the disaster gives the city the perfect chance to rethink planning as a whole.”

Amelia blinked with surprise. “You do?”

“Yes, in fact, I do. And your recent assessment of my penchant for the gambling life is rather accurate. On occasion, I wagered more than was prudent and certainly overextended my credit—and look where it’s left me. I’m camping out in a dark soot hole with barely a penny in my pocket or a roof over my head.”

Amelia judged he wasn’t whining about his fate, simply stating facts and she rather admired him for his candor. “Well, surely your family will lend a hand?” she said. She knew that Thayer’s parents lived in a grand mansion in one of the few districts spared by the fire.

“Not likely,” he replied with an enigmatic shrug. “You see, my father agrees with you, Miss Bradshaw, that a gambling establishment in a posh neighborhood like Nob Hill is an affront to ‘decent’ people, in whose company he doesn’t count his only son.”

Amelia noted the bitterness in his tone and wondered if J.D.’s living openly with Ling Lee and employing her cohorts in his gambling den upset the senior Thayer to the point of disowning him.

“And your mother? What’s her view on… your choice of profession?”

“Mother? For years now, I’ve had no idea what her views are on any subject. As you may have also heard, I am considered the outcast of the Thayer clan, especially after Ling Lee came to live with me. I rarely see either of my parents.”

Ah ha! J.D.’s relationship with the Chinese harlot
was
the cause of the family estrangement…

Amelia was amazed by the openness with which he spoke of his late lover. Thinking of her own living arrangements with Etienne during her final year in Paris, she could at least credit Thayer for his honesty on the subject. “So, I take it that you can’t expect financial help from your family?”

“I don’t know the answer to that question yet. Meanwhile, I’ve spent what little cash I had on life’s necessities.” He pointed toward the kerosene lamp, the pistol, the pickaxe, and a small store of food heaped against one wall of his burnt-out shelter. “Until I can dig out my safe, I am, to put it bluntly, stone broke.”

“Most everyone is,” Amelia sighed. “Isn’t it disgraceful the way prices are almost as outrageous as they were in the Gold Rush? I hear the mayor and his cronies are already demanding bribes like before the quake. It’s disgusting.” She regarded Thayer for a moment. Why should she assume he wasn’t a member of the mayor’s inner circle? “What about Ezra Kemp?” she asked. “Can’t he help you? I hear that he’s doing a land-office business selling lumber at inflated prices.”

“I’m already in debt to the man for the late, lamented gambling club and I’d prefer to avoid any further obligations if I can. Unfortunately, he appears to have nearly cornered the market on redwood. But don’t waste time fretting on my account, Miss Bradshaw. As I said before, I already have applications in to the Committee of Fifty, as well as to the Department of Relief and Rehabilitation.” He gestured toward the drawings sprawled on the table between them. “I’m hoping at least one of them will extend me some credit so I can cover what I need to hire a builder to implement your very fine designs.”

A compliment out of the blue, and he’d only seen these few sketches and not even her final drawings!

She never knew what to expect from James Diaz Thayer.

She wondered if she and Thayer would ever truly have a meeting of minds. What if financial constraints or his burning desire to best the Law brothers at the Fairmont prompted him to order the Morgan firm to cut corners in the rebuilding of his hotel, just as he had when he threw together the Gentlemen’s Gambling Club?

She could clearly see that the subject of the Bay View Hotel was bound to render her wary and distrustful of the man who, for all intents and purposes, was now her employer even more than Julia Morgan.

Amelia stood to take her leave. “I need to be going now. Tomorrow, you can tell me any design changes you might desire. Come to the small office they’ve set up in a shed on the Fairmont site. Once you and Miss Morgan agree we’re headed in the right direction, I’ll begin the renderings that Miss Morgan deems essential, and from which we can begin to build—that is, when you secure the funds to completely clear this site and pay for our preliminary building materials.”

“And when do you move into the Fairmont basement?” he asked.

“I’ll be sleeping there as of tonight.”

“Well, then,” J.D. replied with the ghost of a smile, “please tell the hospitable Law brothers to expect me this evening as well.”

Amelia felt color stain her cheeks. “But you sounded as if—”

“It all seems too delightful to pass up. Rather like a house party.”

“Mr. Thayer, really—”

J.D. gave her a roguish smile, “And please convey my thanks to my generous hosts. It will be good sport to see which hotel opens for business first, given the vagaries of life in San Francisco these days. I should start a betting pool.”

Amelia heard herself say somewhat peevishly, “Ever the gambler, aren’t we?”

I
do
sound like a prude…

J.D.’s expression showed he was close to smiling again. “As you are well aware,” he said, “the Bay View is to be rebuilt on a smaller scale than the Fairmont, and from the ground up. Once the site is cleared of rubble—which in itself will be no easy task, I admit—I anticipate you and I will have far fewer problems than the ones Miss Morgan will face rehabilitating the inside of that burnt-out behemoth down the street. I think we’re the odds-on favorite to open first, don’t you?”

Amelia affected a shrug. “Well, let me leave these drawings with you so you can study them before your meeting with Miss Morgan. It’s probably wise to remember, with regard to any competition between the Bay View and the Fairmont, there are always unexpected problems during construction, whatever size the project,” she warned.

“Let’s just hope any delays happen at the Fairmont and not here. Good day to you, Miss Bradshaw,” J.D. added crisply, announcing their interview was at an end. “We’ll soon begin rebuilding in earnest, yes? And I can count on your loyalty?”

Amelia briefly studied his expression. He must be goading her, she thought with irritation, reminding her of their strange predicament in order to keep her off balance and retain the upper hand. Her jaw ached from clenching her teeth, but she managed to force a polite smile to her lips. Strange as it might seem, she was disappointed that the terrors they’d shared hadn’t forged a stronger bond of… comradeship, she supposed it was called, seeing each other as fellow survivors in a dangerous world.

The reality of building a new Bay View made that impossible. They were—and would remain—adversaries, despite both being on the team devoted to the goal of seeing the Bay View Hotel rise from the ruins and open its doors
first.

“Thank you for bringing these,” he said, indicating the drawings.

“You’re welcome,” she replied by way of a final farewell.

A few minutes later, Amelia emerged on to Taylor Street to find that the fog still had not begun to lift.

“Summer in San Francisco…” she murmured.