Nine Lives - Danielle Steel Page 0,65
right to, and what’s taxable in the U.S. We have a disagreement about it. They’ll settle with us in the end. It’ll cost me, but not as much as they want. You have to be smart about taxes, Maggie,” he advised her, but it sounded like he had been too clever and too bold, oblivious to the risks, or maybe even excited by them.
“How long do you think it will take to get worked out?” she asked him. This was all new territory to her.
“A few months,” he said. “Maybe a year. Two or three at most. I’m not worried about it. A friend is going to lend me his villa in Gstaad, if I want it. I have the suite at the Ritz in Paris, and I’ll be on the boat this summer. The only reason for me to come to the States right now is you. And if you’re willing, I’d love to see you here in Europe.”
She hesitated, thinking about it, wondering if she could get in trouble too, for associating with him. “It’s not contagious, I promise.” He laughed, guessing what she was thinking. “Come and meet me in Paris. I promise, everything will be fine.” She wasn’t so sure. This was all so unfamiliar to her, it was overwhelming.
“Where are you staying now?” she asked, shaken by everything she’d heard.
“At my club in London. They’re too polite to drag me out in handcuffs, and they have no reason to. I’ll go to Paris tomorrow or the day after, before they get too nasty here. I think the British consider it vulgar to go to the lengths I do not to get scalped by taxes. The Americans expect it, but feel it’s their job to stop people like me from being smarter than the IRS. It’s just business, Maggie, and every man for himself. It’s going to be okay. I don’t want you to worry about it. Leave it to me, and the lawyers.”
“But what if you go to jail?” The thought of it was unimaginable to her.
“I won’t. I’ve been paying enormous amounts to the IRS for years, I’m not some scumbag who’s been dodging taxes. They’re just pissed that I did such a good job protecting myself, and they want some of what I was able to preserve. We’ve been very aggressive, and it paid off. So they want part of my winnings, so to speak. It’s bad sportsmanship on their part, but it’s the nature of the game. They’re the big thug who grabs you in the alley and tries to steal what you just won fair and square in the casino. So I’ll give them some and they’ll be happy, and it’ll be business as usual after that. It will all die down. You’ll see. It will be a non-event in the end.” She wanted to believe him, but felt a million miles out of her league. It was all a game to him. He loved it, especially if he could beat the IRS. He was a very clever man, who hired the right people to help him do what he wanted. And he clearly had no regrets about the problems it was causing him. It was all worth it to him. In his mind, he was winning the race, again, even if he had lost a fabulous apartment and everything he had in it. To him, that was a detail, compared to the rest. Like damage to a car when he won a race. He expected it.
“I won’t let anything happen to you, Maggie. I swear. If I thought you were in any danger, I wouldn’t let you come here, and I’d stay away from you until I knew it was safe. This is just a business deal between me and the IRS, a lot of posturing and noise, like what they released in the press. They may have to print retractions later, if they’re not careful, but it’ll die down eventually. It will boil down to hand-to-hand combat between their experts and mine. I have good people on my team. And I don’t intend to lose.” He was a formidable opponent, just as he was a legendary race car driver, fearless and brilliantly capable at everything he did. The risk-takers won all the big prizes in the end, or died trying. She knew that too. His was a tough team to be on, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for it, or wanted to live with the