She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled his head down and kissed him. “Speaking of which, the property manager told me I can renew the lease for another year. Thanks again for hooking me up with that leasing company. The deal I got is fabulous. Love it.”
He shivered inwardly as he recalled her mugging. The son-of-a-bitch not only stole her purse, but knocked her down, bruising her. “I’m glad you found a safer neighborhood.”
“Yeah, I know,” she said quietly, probably remembering her terror. “The most that asshole got away with was forty bucks. I hope I damaged his jewels when I kicked him. I never would have been able to afford a place like that without you letting me know about this deal.”
“You’re welcome.” And if you ever find out I’m your landlord, I’m going to have to start wearing steel boxers to bed or my family jewels will be in danger.
He knew her stubborn and independent pride—especially when it came to money—wouldn’t have allowed her to accept his help. She was determined to do it on her own. Keeping his identity confidential had been easy. For over four years, she hadn’t suspected a thing. Besides, she was helping him out by renting the place and taking care of it. What was one secret between friends?
“What did you want to talk about before?” She unwrapped her arms from around him and picked up the dishes from the table. “You look uptight again. I tell you, you should have my kind of breakfast. It would loosen you up.”
“Nothing important. We can talk about it later. And, I’m not uptight.” Nothing important? Oh man, he kept digging himself deeper.
He had plenty of faults, but not being straight with people, especially good friends he cared about, wasn’t one of them. As soon as he could, he would discuss his move to England with her. When she was in a more receptive mood, of course.
Make that two secrets between friends.
Her cell phone sang. Again.
She glanced at the number flashing on the phone. “I have to take this call.” She handed him the dishes and stepped back inside the suite.
Hmmm. Maybe she had some secrets of her own. Maddie did not have a poker face, and the way she’d stared at the number on her phone had told him this was a call she hadn’t wanted him to hear. He hadn’t intended on eavesdropping as he gathered the cutlery, but the table was near the patio door that was left ajar and the worried tone in her voice made his ears perk up.
“…I don’t have extra money for that…can’t afford to worry about who is sticking their nose in all this…yes…yes…keep going with the initial…”
He backed away from the patio door. If she wanted him to know, she’d tell him. Still, something in her voice concerned him.
“So,” she said, stepping back on to the patio. “What are you up to today?”
He piled the cutlery he’d been gathering on the tray. “Everything okay?” He nodded toward the cell phone she clutched in her hand so tightly her knuckles were white.
“It’s fine.” She blew away a stray strand of hair. “More family crap. I didn’t think I’d have to deal with it here, but it came up.” She held her hand up. “No. I don’t want to get into it yet.”
“You know where to find me if you do want to talk about it.”
She nodded. “Thanks. I’ll tell you about it when we have more time to talk.” Smiling, she turned the cell phone off and threw it on the table. “Are you going to bury yourself in that paperwork Duncan called about?”
“We need to discuss our…situation first,” he managed.
“You sound serious, again.”
“You realize that our friendship has changed.”
She sighed. “Why?”
“Unless you have a number of guy friends you sleep with, then I think our relationship is different.”
“True, although I do have a lot of guy friends, and knowing them, I don’t think they would consider our relationship different if we added some benefits.”
“What do you mean, you have a lot of guy friends? You do not.”
“Yes I do.” She rolled her eyes. Again. “Okay, more like acquaintances. You know, by the way you’re acting I’m surprised that you ever had a morning after to deal with.”
“Just trying to keep it real.” He picked up the salt and pepper shakers and placed them on a tray. “And we can do without the insults. All I’m saying is that men usually can’t be friends with a woman he wants to keep sleeping with. We need to discuss this like adults.”
The glasses clanged against the dishes as she placed them on the tray. “Okay, I can see you need to talk about this real bad. Shoot.”
Boy, she sure was in a mood this morning.
He put the tray on the table, placed his hands on her shoulders and stared into her eyes—eyes that clearly said, Get this over with.
“Maddie, obviously we’re not just friends now, and I don’t want this to ruin our—”
“I don’t want to hear about sex ruining our friendship. It won’t. I can handle it.”
“It’s called making love,” he managed through clenched teeth. The word sex coming from her mouth made his teeth ache for some reason. He’d never uttered the words making love before, but at the moment, he wasn’t in the mood to stop and analyze what that meant.
“Cripes, I thought I had baggage. Mine’s a carry-on piece compared to yours,” she said. “Why do we even have to put a title to us? To anything, actually? I’m here. You’re here. We’re both consenting adults. At least I am.” She tugged at his ear. “If I have to say don’t worry, there are no strings attached again, I’m going to shake you so hard your clothes will be out of style.”
She was right, of course. He should shut up. This was exactly what he’d wanted to hear from a woman. “Listen to you. You’re a writer. You make your living putting titles on your work.”
“Fine.” She loaded the juice jug on another tray. “I can settle this real quick, because I have an appointment in a few hours. Let’s call ourselves sexually energized friends. Happy now?”
“I can see you’re not in the right mood for this conversation.” He busied himself sweeping crumbs from the table. “By the way, what appointment?”
She toed open the patio door.
He followed her inside. “Where are you going this afternoon?”
“I’m going to Maxwell Hollister’s for lunch.”
He slid the patio door shut with a loud thud. “You mean we are going to Hollister’s.”
She placed the tray on the trolley and planted her hands on her hips. “You’re not invited.”
“Hollister is my assignment.”
He could tell by the dark shade of green her eyes took on that she was three seconds away from yelling at him.
“Holy jumpin’, Alex. When you admitted to losing some common sense, you weren’t joking.”
“I have to schedule an interview with him. That’s the whole point of my being here.” And dammit, if the old man was going to drop a bomb on her, he wanted to be there for her.
“It’s an invitation for me only, but I’ll do you a favor and get some info for you.”
“I fly solo.”
She lowered her gaze to his zipper. “Not last night, you didn’t.”
“I’m serious. I don’t want you going there alone, and that’s an order.”
“An order?” Uh oh, he’d seen that look on her face before.
“I meant, as the senior guy on this assignment, I’m scheduling the interviews and—”
“Snap the hell out of this!” There it was, an even darker shade of green in her eyes and the flush of anger in her cheeks. “Dipping into the company ink doesn’t give you the right to manage all of my time.”
“Company ink?” He jammed his fingers through his hair. “I knew this was a damned mistake.”
“You have all the charms of a meter maid with a quota this morning.
”
Now he knew why he’d made the pledge not to get involved in any relationship he couldn’t walk away from in thirty seconds.
This morning was a disaster. Their conversation was a disaster. He always believed most people spoke fifteen minutes longer than they should. Thanks to this bizarre turn of events in their friendship, it now applied to him.
She blew out a loud breath. “I have instincts too. Maxwell Hollister is not dangerous. Okay, I admit, having a man of his stature and position interested in my work is unusual.” She held her hand up to halt his next words. “But I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ve figured it out.”
She crossed her leg and casually extended her arm over the doorway, lifting up the T-shirt above her delicious center.
Focus above her neck, Donovan.
“This is how I see it.” She planted her other arm on her hip. “I think we got this plum assignment because Maxwell Hollister is probably part of Uncle G’s group of rich cronies. I’m sure they go way back or something and that’s why Eye on the World got this scoop. Okay, now that I’ve solved your mystery, I’m going to get some work done before going to lunch.”
It wouldn’t take him long to verify a few things. He could probably get the information he needed before they got to the first course. He had a feeling Hollister wouldn’t spill his news to her until after they had lunch. “Okay, you’re right. I’m overreacting.”
She walked up to him, stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “You don’t fool me, giving in so easy.”
He pulled her close and kissed her hard, nuzzling her neck, helping her out of the T-shirt.
She stepped back and curved her lips into a devilish smile. “You’re still not invited.”
With that, she slung the T-shirt over her shoulder, spun around and strolled away. “Are you checking me out?” He was sure she added an extra roll to her curvaceous hips.
“Absolutely.”
The woman drove him crazy—she was so damn hot and now his shorts felt three sizes too small. He couldn’t move, not even if someone tossed a grenade at his feet. He should get his mind on his work, print that contract, sign it and send it off. He’d already received five reminder e-mails from Duncan. He’d tell Maddie about England later.
His Blackberry beeped. An urgent e-mail from his Uncle Patrick. He opened it, scanned it and blew out a low whistle. “Thank you, Uncle Pat.”
“I mean it, Alex,” she shouted from his bedroom. “Don’t follow me.”
“Yeah, okay,” he shouted back. “I won’t show up for lunch.” He fired off a quick thank you to his uncle, and dialed Tim’s cell number. “I need you to keep that lame ass off my trail for the rest of the day. If you can get anything out of him, that would be a bonus.”
“Will do,” Tim answered.
“And did you get the maid’s name and a phone number?”
“Yup, got that right after you texted me. You’re going to have to use some charm on this one. Hollister does sign her paychecks.”
“Yah, so I brought the towels to Donovan’s room, and—you’re not gonna be happy.”
“Why?” Victor asked, steering the car with one hand and holding onto his patience as he listened to his assistant PI talking to him on his cell phone. “What happened?”
“She was there. Looks like she’s the chick. You know, the one I told you about last night.”
Victor stopped at a red light and glanced at his passenger, applying lipstick. “She? Who?”
“She as in Miss Saunders. She was there with him and I think she spent the night with that Donovan dude.”
Victor was sure his blood pressure had spiked to a dangerous zone. He literally bit his lip to stifle the string of curses that would probably make the Ice Queen sitting next to him blush. Where the hell are those antacids when I need them? “I’ll be in touch.” He shut his cell phone and stared at the now-green traffic light, not realizing he was holding his breath.
“Chop, chop.” Crystal Washington clapped her hands. “Light isn’t going to get any greener.”
He stepped on the gas, causing the tires to screech.
“Hey, slow down,” she said.
He accelerated even harder. “You don’t like my driving, take a cab next time.”
“Someone isn’t in a good mood this morning. Whatever. In case I didn’t say it earlier, it was wise of you to pick me up and not leave me to my own devices.”
Wise of him? She was a serious bitch. “You’re welcome,” he said, dryly.
“So, tell me, Vick, what’s new? What’s he been up to?”
He needed air. He rolled down his window. “Good weather and a new bistro opened—”
“Ha ha. Now cut the crap and bring me up to speed.”
“There’s nothing to report.” Except that her face and past were being printed up on the national rags as they spoke. “I do recommend you stay far away from the resort and Mr. Hollister, until I can figure out our next move.”
She crossed her legs. “I give the recommendations, hon.”
The woman was an ice queen bitch extraordinaire, but Jeesuschrist-on-a-cracker, she was Halle Berry beautiful. He could only imagine what she looked like in a bikini.
She pulled out her cell phone, and he turned his attention back to his driving.
She turned the car radio off and punched numbers on her phone. She hummed a tune while she waited for her party to answer. “Put me through to George Saunders.”
Saunders? What the hell? Victor almost ran a stop sign and slammed on the breaks.
She huffed. “He’s not too busy for me. Tell him it’s Crystal Washington.” Sounded like someone was keeping her on hold. “George,” she said. “You know what I want. Mission accomplished?” She laughed, but Victor had a feeling George wasn’t telling her a joke.
“Tsk tsk, Georgie. Do you kiss your niece with that mouth?”
Holy shit, Victor thought, what the hell was she up to now? He slowed down, taking a detour so that he could have more time to eavesdrop and figure out what she was up to. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. He was certain he’d developed an ulcer. He’d been doing her dirty work against Hollister and Saunders and doing Hollister’s dirty work against her. What a mess he’d created with this double agent shit he’d started.
“Georgie, you know what they say. K.I.S.S., baby. Keep it simple, stupid.” She laughed. The woman even had a bitchy laugh. “You get to keep your secrets, and I get the position. I hear all that rain over there does wonders for a gal’s complexion.” She let out another bitchy laugh. “Like I told you before, you didn’t think a plum job like that was going to remain a secret, did you? I do have reliable sources.” She winked at Victor. “And those sources let me in on your family secret.”
Super bitch, Victor thought. She was either going to blow the whistle on him being her source or she was getting her jollies taunting Saunders and him at the same time. From some of her remarks though, he realized that she had obtained more information, stuff he himself didn’t even know. Bitch probably had a source in every major city in the country.
The rest of the conversation was a series of uh-huhs, hmmms and no damn ways. Victor couldn’t make any sense of it all.
“Okay, here’s the thing George. I’ve done my homework. I know for a fact that without Max baby’s backing, not only does your magazine, online newspaper and publishing house tank, he could influence your backers to pull out and the new station and bureau across the pond will be history before there’s even a launch date.”
Victor could hear Saunders’s booming voice, but couldn’t make out the words.
“No, you listen to me. I have the truth in my possession. Not your version of the truth, but the truth.” She paused. “So, how much does your family mean to you, Georgie?”
George’s voice boomed once again.
“Y
ou know what I want. I want him discredited and fired. I want that position, with a higher salary, of course. I think it’s a reasonable price for letting you keep your business and protect your sister’s reputation, is it not?”
Chapter Twenty
“You can’t teach old dogma new tricks.”
—Dorothy Parker
“Madison, welcome.” Maxwell Hollister rose from behind the black granite patio table and extended his hand. “Thank you for joining me for lunch.”
Maddie shook his hand. If she were blind and couldn’t see his mansion or the masculine sophistication he radiated in his tanned designer pants and tailored black golf shirt, complete with initials on the sleeve, she’d still know Maxwell Hollister was wealthy beyond belief. His voice alone sounded moneyed.
She imagined that a lot of people found him daunting, but she worked at not allowing someone’s wealth or status to intimidate her. Having been exposed to Felicia’s faithful membership in the Church of Marrying Money, Maddie had learned how to deal with anxiety when in the presence of towering figures. At some point, she’d envisioned each of Felicia’s men eating a caramel apple while putting on a pullover sweater.
That practice came in handy, especially now.
“You have a pretty smile, Madison.”
“Thank you, Mr. Hollister.”
“I would like you to call me Maxwell.” He pulled out a wingback patio chair and she sat.
“Call me Maddie, and we have a deal.”
He sat across from her. “You don’t like your given name?”
“My mother calls me Madison, my friends call me Maddie.”
She thought she saw his jaw clench, giving his mouth a straight hard line. In the next instant he graced her with a warm smile.
Carl appeared, followed by four young men dressed in colorful Hawaiian shirts and white Bermuda shorts, each holding two large trays they placed on the table.
Shouldn’t have had that extra stack of pancakes, she thought with regret.
What a Girl Wants Page 19
