Maxine

by SUE FINEMAN

“Maybe I should have offered the job to you, Bart.”

  “Maybe someday you will.”

  She nodded. “Maybe I will.”

  Marge buzzed Bart on the intercom. “Please tell Miss Andrews that Mr. Holcomb has arrived.”

  Bart handed Cara the envelope with Ron’s check, and she walked back to the reception area to get the letter from her purse. She took a deep breath and tapped on Ron’s private office door.

  “What is it, Marge?” he called. He sounded irritated already, but not as irritated as he’d be in a few minutes.

  Cara opened the door and walked in. As she pulled the door closed behind her, Ron asked, “What are you doing here?” He looked down and dug through his desk drawer.

  “I didn’t see you at Bill’s funeral yesterday.”

  Without looking up, Ron said, “I had another commitment.”

  “On the golf course?”

  He continued to rummage through his desk drawers, telling her without words that he had better things to do than to waste time with her. Finally, he pulled out some papers and looked up at her. “What do you want today?” His voice was filled with irritation and sarcasm.

  “Ron, I’ve decided to go in a different direction with the management of the estate.”

  Confusion knit his eyebrows together, then his mouth opened and closed much like a fish. “Are you asking for my resignation now?”

  “It was my plan to learn from you and then ask for your resignation, but you obviously have no intention of teaching me anything. I find it impossible to work with a man who offers virtually no cooperation, who argues with my decisions, who fights me every step of the way. You seem to have forgotten who owns this estate.” She handed him the letter and stood quietly while he read it.

  He rose out of his chair. “You’re firing me?” he said in astonishment.

  “Against my better judgment, I had Bart include severance pay in your check.” Cara put the envelope on the desk and Ron stared at it, his face a mask of shock and disbelief.

  “Show Bart which programs you use on your computer, tell him your passwords and whatever else he needs to know, then pack your personal things and go. Your services are no longer required. If you have anything at home that belongs to the estate or to the RASH Corporation, I expect it to be returned by the end of the day.”

  Ron gaped at her. “Have you lost your mind? You can’t run this office without me.”

  Did he really think he was indispensable? “I’ve offered your job to someone else, someone who shares my philosophy about social responsibility. If he doesn’t take it, I’ll find someone else, someone who will work with me, not against me.”

  She opened the door. “Marge, would you tell Bart we’re ready for him now.”

  Ron still looked stunned when Bart came in, but Cara remembered Gerry’s advice. Don’t give him time to do any damage.

  Standing in Ron’s office door, Cara watched Bart ask about the computer programs and files. She stepped out of the office and pulled the door closed.

  Nick’s eyebrows lifted. “So, Maxine, how’d it go?”

  She sighed. “He thinks I can’t run the office without him.”

  He laughed a little. “Yeah, sure.”

  Nick and Cara stayed in the office until Bart had all the information he needed and Ron packed his personal belongings. She should have fired Ron that day he didn’t show up at her house, the day he thumbed his nose at her. She’d been angry then, but she didn’t have the confidence she needed to take control. Now she did.

  Although she had more responsibility now than ever before, Cara felt a weight lift off her shoulders when Ron Holcomb walked out the door. She was no longer afraid of making mistakes. So what if she messed up? She’d learn from her mistakes and move on. Keeping Ron Holcomb would have been the biggest mistake of all.

  Cara and Nick walked down the block to the other building to meet with the contractor, Mark Anderson. The man stood in the cavernous lobby puffing away on his stinky cigar. Cara glared at him. “Mr. Anderson, please leave your cigar outside while we talk.”

  Without a word, the man walked outside and put his cigar in the ashtray beside the door. When he came back inside, Nick said, “Show me the plans,” and Anderson spread them on the mahogany reception desk.

  Cara peered over Nick’s shoulder and he pointed to the sketch of the new façade. “What’s wrong with the way it looks now?”

  Anderson shrugged. “I’m just following the plan.”

  Nick walked outside and looked up. The building was about eight stories tall, with large tan bricks covering the front. Cream stone arches accented the windows. It looked to be in good shape, attractive and clean. He walked inside and asked Anderson, “Does the building meet code as it is?”

  Anderson shrugged. “You’d have to ask Cal. I’m the contractor, not the designer.”

  They stood in the lobby and talked about the work Anderson’s crew had done so far. Nick got the impression they’d just started a few days ago. “Was the building empty when you bought it?”

  “No, the tenants left last week.”

  “Why couldn’t you have done one floor at a time, so the rents would still be coming in?”

  “It’s easier to do the work if the building is empty.”

  “Of course it is,” Nick muttered under his breath. They didn’t give a shit if they lost money, because it wasn’t their money they were losing.

  They walked through the building, beginning with the top floor, and worked their way down to the underground parking garage.

  “This building doesn’t need renovation. It needs new floors, paint, spruce up the lobby, but it sure as hell doesn’t need a complete makeover,” said Nick. “What other projects are you working on for RASH, or is this it?”

  “We’re supposed to start work on the new condos next week. The demolition crew starts Monday.”

  Cara waved her hand. “Oh, no. You’re not touching those buildings.”

  Nick talked with Anderson about other crews and subcontractors he had scheduled and then said, “You’re finished here, fired. Leave the key.”

  As Anderson reached in his pocket, Cara said, “If you have anything that belongs to RASH, records or keys or property, you are to return it to the Andrews offices today.”

  Without another word, Anderson threw the key on the desk and walked out.

  Nick rolled up the plans, locked the door, and they walked back to the Andrews Building, where the architect, Cal Richards, had an office. Nick shared a long look with Cara and tapped on the glass door.

  Richards jumped off his stool, wiped the shocked look off his face, and opened the door. “Well, Mr. Donatelli and Miss Andrews. How nice of you to stop by.”

  Cara looked around the office, wondering what this man paid for rent on this office. It had a window wall with his easel sitting in front of it, a beautiful desk in the center, and a nice sitting area on the side. Expensive furniture, no receptionist or secretary. This was a one-man operation, and RASH, she assumed, was his entire business.

  Without an invitation, Nick sat at the glass-topped table near the window and spread the plans from the office building on top. “Tell me about this building. Why does it need a new façade? What’s wrong with the old one? Is the building engineered for earthquake protection? Does it meet code as is?”

  “Yes, it meets code. Jasper said a new façade would make it look newer and it would be easier to sell.”

  “Is Jasper the one who finds the buildings? Tell me how the business works.”

  Cal’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Jasper finds the buildings, Ron supplies the money, I design the new façade and interior, or new buildings, depending on the project, and Mark does the work. And then Jasper finds a new buyer. It’s quite successful.”

  “For who?” snapped Nick.

  “For everyone.”

  Nick leaned back and crossed his ankles as Cara eased herself into a chair by his side. “The only people who are making money are the four o
f you,” said Nick. “The corporation has not made one thin dime on a single deal.”

  “But, Jasper and Ron said... uh... they said it was good business, that...”

  Cara pulled at the crease in her slacks. “Whose idea was it to set up this business, Mr. Richards?”

  The man’s eyes darted between Cara and Nick. “Jasper came up with the idea and Ron said he had money to invest. Cal needed the work and I’d just... my old firm was cutting back and I was out of work. I thought...” The man took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Am I in trouble here?”

  “That depends,” said Nick. “You can go down with the others, or you can work with our attorney to get the evidence we need to put the others behind bars. Your choice.”

  “I didn’t do anything wrong. They asked me if I wanted to work with them and I said sure. I thought we were making money, paying back what we borrowed from Ron to start the company.”

  “Borrowed? From Ron?” Nick shook his head. “I looked at the financial records yesterday. Ron took three million from Cara’s estate to set up the corporation, and when that ran out, he took another two million. That’s about gone, too, and most of the property is mortgaged to the hilt.”

  “I didn’t know. I just do the work they tell me to do.”

  The way the guy’s eyes shifted, Nick knew he was lying. He knew damn well what the corporation was doing. They all knew. “On second thought, we’re done here.” Nick stood. “The corporation will be dissolved and the remaining assets, if there are any, will be liquidated. It won’t pay back what Ron took, but you four bozos are out of business.”

  As he walked down to the parking garage with Cara, Nick wondered if the four men intended to lose money or if they were just lacking in business sense. Wouldn’t it be easier to sell an office building if there were paying tenants in the building? “They’re either stupid or they’re crooks. Maybe both.”

  “Especially the real estate broker,” said Cara. “He should have known better.”

  “They all should have known better.”

  As the driver pulled the car away from the parking garage, she asked, “Nick, what would Maxine do with the rest of the day? Would she go home?”

  He’d always wanted to explore San Francisco and it was a perfect day for it. “Maxine would probably go shopping in those little stores in Chinatown.”

  She grinned like a little girl. “Let’s ditch the bodyguard and do it.”

  “Mr. Pettibone will come unglued.”

  “Maxine is sick of bodyguards.”

  <>

  Lance heard Ian on the phone and listened in. “She fired you, too?” said Ian.

  “Is that Ron?” Ian nodded, so Lance said, “Ask him if she’s still there.”

  Ian spoke with Ron a minute, then turned to Lance. “Apparently, that big Italian guy is with her. She was still at the office when he left about thirty minutes ago.”

  Lance was out the door in seconds, driving toward downtown. He arrived in time to see the Bentley pull out of the parking garage, but it wasn’t headed toward home. Lance’s car was pointed in the wrong direction to follow them, and by the time he turned around, the car had disappeared into the busy downtown traffic.

  Driving up and down the steep streets, Lance talked to himself while he searched for the Bentley. “She has to be around here somewhere. She loves to shop in the city.” Finally, he spotted Cara’s hair blowing in the breeze as she and Donatelli walked down the street. The Bentley was gone, and there was no bodyguard in sight.

  A smile pulled at Lance’s face. “This is my lucky day.”

  <>

  A cable car came by and Nick pointed. “I’ve never been on one of those things.”

  “Then let’s go.” She jumped aboard, he followed, and they rode the cable car all the way to the end.

  It was Nick’s first visit to San Francisco. It reminded him of Seattle in some ways, except for the cable cars. Lisa loved Seattle, so he’d taken her there often before they were married, but he couldn’t remember ever enjoying himself this much.

  Cara pointed to a little boy with his lower lip stuck out in a big pout. The kid was begging for a toy while his mother shook her head. Nick nodded toward an elderly couple sharing licks of the same ice cream cone.

  He loved the city, but he had a hard time tearing his eyes off Cara. She was like a little girl at a carnival, delighting in the smallest things. He wondered if her guardians ever allowed her the freedom to do this when she was a kid. Probably not.

  They ate lunch at a seafood restaurant, sitting outside in the sunshine. Cara’s hair blew around her face in the gentle breeze. She wore dark green slacks and a matching short-sleeved sweater, and she looked good enough to eat, which was what he wanted to do right now. She looked more appetizing than the food, and the food was great.

  People stared as they walked in the park. Nick and Cara ignored them. When the cable car came by again, they rode it back to the shopping area. Nick heard cameras click and knew they were pointed at them, but he didn’t care. This was their day, and he wouldn’t allow anyone to ruin it.

  They walked up and down the streets, buying little presents for Aunt Sophia and all his cousins. Nick was getting stronger all the time, but walking up and down the steep hills was tiring. He didn’t complain, though. This time alone with Cara made him feel like a kid at recess. So what if he was tired?

  He motioned to an old man sitting on the sidewalk, puffing away on a cigarette, his eyes squinted to keep the smoke out. “I used to smoke.”

  “I can’t believe Aunt Sophia let you smoke.”

  “I started when I was ten, quit when I got to Aunt Sophia’s house. She told me she loved me too much to see me do something that was bad for me. Cigarettes lost their taste after that.”

  “What about pot?”

  He shook his head.

  “Drinking?”

  “I never drink the hard stuff. A beer now and then, or wine with dinner, but that’s all. And two is my limit.”

  Cara said, “I’ve never been drunk.”

  “This may surprise you, but neither have I. Watching my mother was enough. The more she drinks, the meaner she gets. I don’t ever want to be like that.”

  “Did your father drink?”

  “Some. Not like her.”

  “I don’t remember my father at all. Bill said he was a little like Lance, that he married my mother for her money. My grandfather threw him out when I was a baby. When I was a little girl he had my name legally changed to Andrews. His name.”

  As they walked back toward the office building, Cara spotted the blond man with the glasses she saw at Hutch’s business the other day. He was driving an old Toyota. He turned his face away, but she saw enough to know. She grabbed Nick’s arm and pointed. “That’s Lance in that red Toyota.”

  Nick pulled Cara into the lobby of a bank building and they stood near the window, watching for Lance. “Call your driver and have him pick us up here. And keep him on the phone until he gets here.”

  Lance drove past again, and Cara pointed. He was craning his head around, probably looking for them. Nick ran out the door to get a license number, but the traffic was too thick to see. He waved as the Bentley came around the corner, and he and Cara ducked into the back seat with their packages.

  Cara shook so hard, Nick tossed their packages aside and put his arms around her to steady her. The sight of her husband had frightened her, and he understood. Lance’s presence made him uneasy, too.

  <>

  An hour later, Cara found Gerry in the study at the estate, reading the newspaper. Gerry said, “You two missed dinner.”

  “What was it?” asked Cara.

  “Stuffed pork chops.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Not my favorite meal.”

  Nick raised his eyebrows. “Pizza?”

  “Oh, yes, please.”

  “I’ll take care of it.” Nick was already on his way to the kitchen.

  Cara filled Gerry in on what ha
ppened in the city. “The guard notified the police. I assume they’re still looking for Lance.”

  “Most definitely.” Gerry asked, “How did it go this morning with Holcomb?”

  “Better than I expected. He thinks we can’t handle things without him. I offered the job to Boyd Hutchinson, but Bart Cantrell wants to take some investments classes and get more involved. He said he wasn’t qualified yet, but he’s definitely interested.”

  Gerry chewed on his glasses. “If Hutch takes the job, he won’t do it forever.”

  “Yes, that’s what I thought.”

  Nick came back from the kitchen munching on an apple. “I ordered a pizza. They said a half-hour, so I’m going upstairs to take a shower.”

  She kicked off her shoes. “Me, too. Remind me not to shop in these shoes again.”

  Cara took a hot shower and pulled on a robe and slippers. She should get dressed, but she was too tired to care. Nick wouldn’t mind. He’d seen her at her worst.

  His door wasn’t locked, so she let herself in. He walked out of the bathroom wearing a towel. His thick chest hair couldn’t hide the angry red slash from the surgery. She didn’t mean to stare, but she couldn’t help herself. He’d refused to let her see it before.

  Nick stopped cold. “Cara, I didn’t hear you come in.”

  She stared at his chest. “Does it still hurt?”

  “Nah. It isn’t very pretty, but hey, I’m not a pretty guy anyway.”

  “Yes, you are,” she said softly. “Inside and out.”

  He ran his hand down the ugly scar. “Tony said women would feel sorry for me, that it would be easier to get them in bed, but I don’t know.”

  “Is that all Tony ever thinks about?”

  He shrugged. “What can I say? He loves women.”

  “Do you love women, too?”

  His eyes twinkled and he walked closer. “Are you asking about my love life?”

  She ran her finger gently over his scar. “Do I have to ask?”

  He chuckled. “Teach a girl to cry, she cries. Teach her to—”

  “Nick!” Her face burned because she knew exactly what he was thinking.

  He laughed and kissed her, an open mouth, passionate, bone-melting kiss that had her aching for more. He ran his hand under her robe and across her breasts. “Pizza first and I promise I won’t fall asleep tonight.” To prove his point, he put her hand on his engorged erection. He would have done more right then, but someone tapped on the door and told him the pizza had arrived.