night.
He stared at her for a long moment, giving nothing away. Then he gestured with his fork. “Leave your info. I’ll have a look at it and talk to William. Call the office in the morning and set up a real appointment. I’ll let you know then.”
Instead of relief, Raine felt a new layer of tension settle. “Let me know what?”
“Whether we’ll take the case or not.” He sent her a hard look. “And if we do, it won’t be because of Boston, apology or not.”
A faint chill skittered across her skin, warning her that the agreeable Max Vasek she’d known before might not be the only side of him.
She’d known she would have to work to get past his initial resistance. Now, she reevaluated, and came up thinking that she might never get past it. She could only hope they’d manage to work together in a sort of armed truce.
She nodded slowly. “I understand.” She turned toward the door, only then realizing that she could see her breath. The apartment was bit ter cold. Another sign that Max’s finances were in trouble?
She turned back and confessed, “I can’t pay a retainer. That’s why the others wouldn’t take the case.”
He shrugged, expression shuttered. “If we take the case, William and I will keep track of our hours and expenses, and you can pay us when it’s over.” Now his eyes focused on her. “Can I trust that you won’t run away from the debt?”
She wasn’t sure if the faint mockery in his tone was directed at her or himself, but she knew she wasn’t going to find a better deal elsewhere. If Thriller went back on the market, it would take months-maybe longer-for sales to rebound, but they
Hell, she’d probably have to sell off the rest of the Rainey Days drug portfolio to settle her debts. She’d find the money one way or the other, except that one way, she’d be a success.
The other, a failure.
She swallowed hard, told herself this was what she’d come to New York to achieve, and nodded. “It’s a deal.”
He dug his fork into the carton and turned his back on her. “Then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
His message was clear. He would consider working with her for both their benefits, but that didn’t mean she was forgiven.
WHEN THE TAP OF HER HEELS receded in the hallway outside his apartment, Max dropped the carton of fried rice onto the counter and scrubbed both hands across his face.
Well. Raine Montgomery.
Damn it, he hadn’t expected ever to see her again. Hadn’t expected to want her if he did. He knew better. But that didn’t change the fact that his head was jammed with the sight and scent of her, that her husky voice sounded in his ears the way it had before, tempting him, challenging him.
Lucky for him, he knew better. He’d been vaccinated against DIDS.
Twice.
He grabbed the phone and punched in William’s number, trying to believe his friend had a reason for giving out his home info.
The two men had known each other at Boston General, where the ex-FBI agent had worked for Hospitals for Humanity, a part-humanitarian, part-undercover investigative group with branches at hospitals across the U.S. When the men had found themselves needing a change at about the same time, they’d gone into business and Vasek and Caine Investigations was born.
William didn’t call him on the rudeness. “I figured that given your history with her, you’d want to know she was in trouble.”
Max didn’t bother asking how or what William knew about him and Raine. William had known pretty much everything that had gone on at Boston General. “Why, so I’d help her, or so I could gloat?”
“Whichever lets you get on with things,” William answered pragmatically. “There’s more to life than living alone in a five-room unfurnished apartment in the city.”
“I like being alone. So sue me.” Alone wasn’t the same as lonely, Max told himself. And it was sure as hell better than being used. “And just be cause I don’t date as often as you do-” make that ever “-doesn’t mean it has anything to do with what did or didn’t happen between me and Raine Montgomery back at BoGen.”
“Then it was no big deal seeing her, you don’t care that I gave her your address, and you’re taking the case, right? This could be the break we’ve been looking for, you know.”
“Only if we find something the FDA doesn’t,” Max cautioned. “And no, I haven’t taken the case yet. I wanted to talk to you about it first, since I’ll want you to be point man.”
“No can do. I’m tied up through next week at the earliest with that malpractice thing, and I took on a new pro bono this morning. You’re on your own.”
Max gritted his teeth. “Don’t try to fix my life for me, Caine.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. You’re doing such a good job on your own.” William’s voice dropped a notch and the flippancy vanished. “Look-we both know you’ve been marking time ever since Charlotte left. Maybe it’s because of this woman, maybe it’s something else, I don’t know. Whatever it is, you can do better. You can
Max winced because he’d heard nearly the same words from his father a few days earlier, during their bimonthly phone call. According to his father, Max was closing in on forty fast. He should have a wife by now, a family. Sons. Daughters. Little ones to come home to and play with, and watch grow into not-so-little ones, like his nieces in the old neighborhood had done.
And maybe his pop had a point. But between college and grad school, the wife hadn’t happened. The children hadn’t happened. Over the past couple of years, he’d been wrapped up in starting and then growing the new company. Then there’d been Charlotte. For a while he’d thought he was all set. Then he’d been less sure. Then she’d been gone. And now…
What was his excuse now?
“Maybe you’re right,” he said slowly. “Maybe I do have something to work out where Raine is concerned.” Maybe that was why he’d opened the door the second time, knowing even then that he would take the case.
Not to be near her, but to exorcize her.
Which led to another realization. He’d already decided to take the case. For the company. For himself.
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
He hung up the phone, then glanced around the bare apartment, which seemed so much emptier than it had an hour before. He picked up the folder Raine had left, which was prominently marked with her address, the Rainey Days office address and several phone numbers.
Logically, he knew he should review the data and make a few calls from the apartment, or maybe wait until the next day and work out of the Caine and Vasek office downtown. Instead, he cursed and headed for the bedroom, where there was a mattress on the floor, a few boxes full of clothes and a duffel he kept packed for emergencies.
Fifteen minutes later, he was on his way to the scene of the crime.
On his way to see
RAINE SPENT THE TWO-HOUR DRIVE from New York City to New Bridge, Connecticut, trying to convince herself that everything was going to be okay.
She failed.
She was too aware of the vehicles in her rearview mirror, too aware of being jumbled up at the idea of working with Max, being near Max.
“This is business,” she said aloud as she passed the line into North New Bridge, the suburb where she’d rented
