by Floyd, Jacie
Rats! No answer on Max’s cell. She left a message and called the station where she learned he wouldn’t be in that day. She left another message on his voicemail, semi-confident that he’d get back to her shortly.
Would he think she was being possessive or presuming too much about their relationship if she texted him? Maybe. Would she text a friend under similar circumstances? She would. Was she too old for these teenage insecurities? Absolutely.
She kept the text light, breezy, and most of all, friendly
Congrats on good press for Mercer deal. Need background info for new project on motorcycle clubs. Since you’re so awesome good, thought you might be willing to help. Call when you get a chance.
There. That should do it.
She crossed her fingers and waited.
Chapter Twelve
“The job’s mine if I want it, Dad,” Max said into the phone from his New York hotel suite. He tugged his tie off and tossed it aside. “They offered me a contract this afternoon.”
“Are the terms good?”
“Better than I expected.”
“Fantastic!” His dad’s smooth, rich voice conveyed encouragement from Tennessee to New York as surely as Kenny Chesney could carry a tune. “All your dreams are coming true, son. I’m so proud of you.”
“That means a lot to me.” But then, Max had known his dad would feel that way. He’d pushed himself to accomplish his goals for his dad’s sake as much as his own. Subconsciously, he might have hoped to prove to his dad that the sacrifices the man had made for his kids all these years had been worth it. “I’ve worked toward this moment for a long time.” And now that he’d achieved it, the accomplishment left him feeling oddly flat.
“Yep. It’s sure been a long road from a sixteen-year-old doing an internship at the local PBS station to Investigative Reporter on Sixty Minutes.” From his dad’s intonation, Max imagined the news show’s name in all caps. “Nobody deserves it more than you.” His dad chuckled with unmistakable delight. “But what I’m wondering is why you aren’t out celebrating the news of a lifetime, instead of talking to your old man on the phone.”
Max rubbed his hand over the tense muscles in the back of his neck and admitted the truth. “I guess because I haven’t entirely decided to take the job.” He cleared his throat and waited through a few seconds of stunned silence on both sides of the line. “What if I didn’t? Would you be disappointed?”
“I’d never be disappointed in anything you did, son. You’d have to have a damned good reason or you wouldn’t even consider turning the offer down.”
Annabel flashed through his head with the brilliance of a lightning bolt. Stunned, Max dropped onto the edge of the bed, his mind reeling.
No! No! That couldn’t be it. She couldn’t be the reason for this atypical hesitation. Women were a disposable commodity. Easy come, easy go. Move in for the kill, then move on before they knew what hit ‘em.
Or that’s the way it had always been before, anyway.
Before Annabel.
For all the differences between them, Annabel was the first and only woman he’d known that he could picture growing old with. Her cautious instincts clashed with his wilder tendencies, but frankly, he’d outgrown his more outrageous stunts anyway. And he’d be happy to help Annabel shed more of her inhibitions and grab hold of some excitement. Should make for an interesting combination. Between them, they’d create a perfect balance.
“Well, Dad, what would you say if I told you I’d met this woman...?”
After another moment of stunned silence, his dad let out a loud whoop! “Hallelujah! ‘Bout damn time.”
The airplane returning Max to Cincinnati touched down late Friday morning. Even with everything going his way, between the case and the network contract, he’d barely had time to breathe since he’d left town on Sunday. He’d grown increasingly edgy as the week wore on.
He broke from the jetway at a trot with his duffle bag slung over his shoulder. Jogging to passenger pick up, he climbed into Roger’s TV van before it rolled to a complete stop.
“You in a hurry there, bud?” the cameraman asked, swinging into traffic.
“You could say that.” Max stowed his bag behind the seat and fastened his seatbelt. “I have a crapload to do before Tess’s show this afternoon.”
Roger raised an eyebrow. “I thought you big network stars had minions to do your bidding. You should be able to just sit back and let things flow now, shouldn’t you?”
Max mentally reviewed the list of things to be accomplished in the next few hours. “I guess.”
“Didn’t they offer you everything you wanted?”
“I thought they did, but there’s something missing.” He pulled out his cell phone and entered Annabel’s number.
Things had really looked up career-wise for her while he was out of town, too. She’d left him messages all over the place about her career opportunities. She even texted him, which he knew would have been a test to her courage.
With so many things to discuss, he hadn’t wanted to do it over the phone, but he could hardly wait any longer. He’d planned to spring all this stuff on her in person this afternoon, but it might be better to talk to her first and prepare her for the surprises ahead.
Instead of Annabel Live, he got Annabel Pre-Recorded. He listened to the end of her prompt about leaving a message. After a few seconds of hesitation, he stumbled disjointedly through one. Damn. He should have prepared that better.
“Missing? Like what?” Roger asked when Max stowed the phone in his messenger bag. “You mean the network wouldn’t come through with your own private plane? The cheap bastards. I thought the timing of the grand larceny case along with your action-figure derring-do would let you write your own ticket.”
“It did.” His stomach still cramped when he thought of Annabel risking her neck in such a volatile situation, but their face-to-face wrestling match with Swifty had netted him the right amount of publicity at just the right time. “You were pretty damned indispensable, too.”
“Thanks, but I wouldn’t want to haul ass over rooftops every day.” The cameraman slid him a look. “Tell me about the new job.”
“Fantastic pay, great schedule, enormous creative latitude,” he told Roger, saving the best for last. “If I take it, they even agreed to let me hire my own team. You know any resourceful shooters who’re interested in moving to the big time?”
Roger’s double take sent the van veering into the next lane. “Any shooters? Like me?”
“That’s right. What do you think?”
The cameraman mulled it over while they crossed the bridge into the city. “Nah, I couldn’t leave Cincinnati.”
The response had Max scratching his head. “Why not? The work will be challenging, and the money’s good. And it’s network, man.”
Roger looked embarrassed. “Me and Ginger are kind of serious. I’ve been thinking about settling down, maybe even starting a family.”
“They allow families in New York, too, you know.”
“Do they now? And how would you know?”
“It’s something I’ve been thinking about myself.”
“You kidding me?” With another sharp swerve to the right, Max held his breath while they almost sideswiped a semi before Roger returned the van to his own lane. “Mad Max Williams settling down? How long have you been thinking about this?”
“Awhile.” Only ten or twelve hours, but Roger didn’t need to know that. Max wasn’t all that comfortable with the details himself yet. Go figure.
This morning, instead of signing on the dotted line, he’d asked for a deadline extension, because he knew he couldn’t leave Cincinnati if that meant leaving Annabel, too.
“Which brings us to why I asked you to pick me up. I need another favor.”
By Friday, Annabel’s spirit had sagged down around her ankles like granny panties with a snapped waistband. Max, the rat, hadn’t bothered to call her back. Or he hadn’t bothered to leave any message
s on her voicemail if he had. On Monday, he’d sent one cryptic text that left her edgier than ever. In NYC. Crazy busy. Surrounded by suits. Lots to talk about when I get back. C U then. Take care.
Really? Take care? Was that the best he could do? Wasn’t that something he’d say to his niece or his sister or his grandmother? Was that his way of distancing himself from her? Telling her she wasn’t important to him?
She’d spent more time fretting over and decoding Max’s text than she’d spent considering her own life and career opportunities. Of course, she couldn’t make up her mind between the LA offer or the biker video. She wanted to do them both, but neither one seemed just right.
Nothing about either decision hinged on Max Williams. She didn’t need him. Not for her motorcycle piece, not for her peace of mind, not for anything. She wanted him, yes. She loved him, yes. But life would go on without him. Not happily, but then, when had that ever been an option?
She shouldn’t be disappointed at the way things had turned out. She was the one who’d set the rules when he left her the other night. She just hadn’t expected him to follow them. Unless it suited him to do so. And it must have suited him not to call her. If she had to start getting over him, she could damn well start today.
Maybe he wouldn’t even show up for the taping. That would be the ultimate humiliation, but she wouldn’t let it show. She’d keep her head high, her hands steady, and her eyes dry. And her heart hidden under lock and key.
So fine. Returning from another unproductive meeting with Howard and more vague responses to his request for details on her new project, she picked up her phone to obsessively check for messages or texts from the elusive Max. And of course, there was one that had been left an hour ago right after she went to Howard’s office. Just her luck. Damn Howard and his no-cell-phones-during-meetings policy.
Holding her breath, she listened to Max’s message, thrilled to hear his voice again. I’m back in town. Hoped to talk to you before this afternoon, but maybe it’s better if we don’t. Have been strangely turned on by omelets and trench coats all week. I blame you for that. See you soon.
Her breath whooshed out. Okay, that sounded good. Probably. Mostly. At least she now knew he planned to show up to recap their dates. And that omelets and trench coats reminded him of her. In a good way. She could live with that. But how could it be better if he didn’t talk to her before the show? That sounded a tad ominous. Maybe.
By the time she arrived at the station and deposited herself in the makeup chair for Voila, the manic elf, to transform her from drab to dazzling, Annabel was on the edge. She perked up her ears when she heard Max and Roger’s voices in the hall. Giddy relief erased her anxiety.
“Did you give Tess’s producer the new video?” Max asked.
“Sure did,” Roger rumbled. “Everything’s all set.”
“Thanks for your help, man.”
“My pleasure.” The cameraman chuckled. Annabel heard them exchange slaps on shoulders, that masculine substitute for a hug. “In fact, I’m gonna stay for your segment.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
This time Roger burst out in a full-bellied laugh. “I’ve been waiting for this for a long time. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Annabel’s nerves pinched tighter than her new shoes. Despite Max’s preference, she’d be more relaxed if she had a private word with him before their on-air meeting. When Voila finished fluffing her hair, Annabel took a deep breath, removed her cape, and started to open the door.
“Max, darling!” a sultry voice crooned.
Annabel paused with her hand on the doorknob and stayed out of sight.
“Hey there, Tess.”
“I hear congratulations are in order!”
Annabel’s stomach turned over as she listened to a lip-smacking kiss. Her heart lurched at the confirmation of Max’s departure from Cincinnati.
“And you’re going to make the announcement on our little show,” Tess continued. “I’m so honored.”
Maybe jealousy over Max’s success was the reason for Tess’s catty tone.
“Well, don’t be. This whole thing might blow up in my face.” He sounded much more nervous, much less confident than she’d ever heard him.
“Not a chance,” Tess purred.
“Is Annabel here yet?”
“Don’t know. Let’s find my producer and check.”
Swallowing her disappointment, Annabel peeked out. Tess tucked her hand cozily around Max’s arm, and they disappeared into a room down the hall.
“Anna!” Carly rushed up from the other direction. “Ohmygosh, I’m so sorry. Last time, you were almost late. This time, it’s me. The traffic from school was terrible. You look fabulous in that color. Are you ready? Was that Max going in the opposite direction?”
Annabel laughed at the breathless exuberance. “Relax, you have plenty of time.” She struck a model’s pose and turned from side to side to show off her clingy new dress. “I’m glad you approve of an outfit I picked out for myself for a change. Yes, I’m ready, and yes, that was Max.”
Carly’s continued chatter settled Annabel’s jitters better than a tranquilizer. The routine this time seemed almost familiar as she waited to take her turn in front of the camera. She marveled over how her life and feelings had altered in the two weeks since their first on-air appearance.
She supposed due to Max’s celebrity status and coming announcement, their “date review” was scheduled as the final segment of the program. In the green room, she fidgeted through video reports and live post-mortems on the other couples’ hits and misses. But almost before Annabel knew it, she and Carly took the stage.
“So,” Tess began, grinning broadly. “Tell us how things went with you and Max.”
Annabel wouldn’t admit she’d fallen in love with someone who was leaving the city and didn’t love her back, but she couldn’t pretend there’d been no attraction, either. She offered up a carefully prepared neutral comment. “I’d say we hit it off pretty well.”
“Great! That means we’re ‘pretty’ good matchmakers, doesn’t it, Carly? Let us in on the details about the first date, Annabel. Where did you and Max go? What did you do? And most importantly, how did it end?”
“We had a wonderful dinner at Ernesto’s. Afterward, we went to the symphony at Music Hall. We didn’t have very much in common, but Max turned out to be a lot nicer than I expected.”
“Nicer?” Tess repeated on a laugh. “You went out with Max Williams and thought he was nice?” She raised her waxed eyebrow at the studio audience. “I know Max pretty well myself, and it must have been a low blow to his ego if you thought he was just nice. Most women think he’s great, sexy, exciting, gorgeous, or the most wonderful man they’ve ever met.”
Annabel wanted to thunk the talk-show queen in the head with her imaginary tiara. What did Tess hope to accomplish with this line of questioning? She hadn’t grilled the other guests this way. “He’s some of those things.”
“And what about the end of the evening? You didn’t tell us if you kissed.”
“We shared a friendly kiss.” Annabel feared that Tess would probe past Annabel’s comfort zone if she didn’t disclose at least that much.
“Let’s watch and see.” Tess pointed to the monitor. “Here’s what Annabel and Max’s date looked like.”
It hurt Annabel to relive Max’s arrival on her doorstep, to see how utterly endearing he looked over dinner and how sweet he’d been about escorting her to Music Hall. Her cheeks burned when the video got to their kiss! Their good-night kiss, the hot, carnal one she had told Roger absolutely not to use, played out for all to see.
The audience loved it and so did Tess. “You call that friendly?” she asked, and everyone laughed.
Annabel laughed along with them. What else could she do? “Well, that’s friendlier than I remember it.”
“Let’s see how Max remembers it. Come on out, Max.”
Annabel’s heart pounded as Max cam
e on stage as directed. She would carry this off with aplomb if it killed her. She crossed her legs and adjusted the hem of her dress. She’d slept with him the last time they’d met, sure, but no one else knew that. It wasn’t as if she’d been assigned a scarlet letter.
Tess kissed him on the mouth, and he pecked Carly’s cheek. Then, he kissed Annabel’s hand. The remote, formality of the gesture left her cold, but the extra little squeeze he gave her fingers sent heat waves zinging straight to her heart. The accompanying look he gave her was hot enough to melt rock and bold enough to strip her naked.
He pressed a lacy bouquet of violets into her hands, and winked a silent message that gave her more hope than she’d had all week. “Why didn’t you call me, damn you?” she wanted to shout, but pressed her lips together instead. They’d have time to talk privately later. She’d make sure of it.
Tess patted the chair farthest away from Annabel’s for Max to sit in. “Now, tell Tess all about it, Max,” she began as if the two of them were sharing private confidences over a drink. “What did you think of your first date with Annabel?”
“It was boring as hell.” He directed his mega-watt smile straight at the camera. “I hate quiet dinners, I’d never been to the symphony, and letting a guy follow me around on a date with a camera practically guaranteed nothing steamier than hand-holding.”
Of all the nerve! The old Annabel would have shrunk from the unfavorable review, but even with her heart nearly breaking, the new Annabel prepared words of retaliation.
“That’s pretty harsh,” Tess interjected, sliding Annabel a sly look. “Was the date a complete bust from your perspective?”
“It sounds like it, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, but we saw the footage. There were enough sparks flying between the two of you to light up the sky over the river on Labor Day weekend.”
“There sure were,” Max drawled. “And that’s when I realized, if we were generating that much heat on what had to be the world’s worst date, what would happen if Annabel let her hair down?”