Mr. Personality (8 page)

“Expensive places,” Nicole concluded, smiling at his snobbishness. It wasn’t unexpected, but she’d seen no sign of the disease till now.

“No,” he snapped, “
not
expensive places. I happen to have lunch with Cynthia on occasion at a small pub near her apartment. It has no particular notoriety, but the food is decent and the people leave me alone.”

“I can see you’re really into
alone
,” she couldn’t help saying, the urge to tease him disappearing.

“I’m into having my privacy respected,” he said, turning to put his cup down on the counter with a snap.

“However, you look at it, that translates into
alone.
I’ve never been so cut off from people as I have been since I started working here. It’s a good thing Ruth drops by here every day or so to make sure we haven’t strangled each other yet. I’d be screaming by now from the isolation. And you live like this all the time. It’s strange.”

He lifted a brow. “Really. Thanks for your perspective on my lifestyle.”

Nicole grinned at him as she left the room. “You’re welcome!”

* * *

It was near midnight when Max straightened his neck, rolling the stiffness loose. Rising to his feet from the window sill, he went to see if Nicole had finished the chapter. Usually, she came and told him before she left for the night, but he hadn’t heard the clatter of her computer keys in a while.

He found her bent forward over the desk, sound asleep. The last few pages of the chapter glowed on the screen above her.

Max stood watching the steady rise and fall of her breathing for several moments. She really did work her tail off, this secretarial slave of his. He shouldn’t leave her like this. In an hour or so, she’d wake with a hell of a kink in her neck.

The tender nape of Nicole’s neck was visible where her short blond hair had fallen forward. Looking at the pale wedge of skin, Max considered what he should do. Graceful arms pillowing her head, she slept unaware, her breathing regular and deep.

He could scoop her up in his arms, he mused, imaging the soft weight of her against his chest, the cloudy fresh scent of her hair tickling his nose. The broad couch in the media room would be a comfortable enough bed. He could carry her in there and, if she woke, she’d probably do no more than mutter and lift her head before returning to sleep.

Max stared at her unseeing, his mind filled with a vision. An armful of soft, curvaceous Nicole, turning toward him, lifting her head….

In the years of his consciousness of his craft, he had often realized the value of a vivid imagination. His mind flung him into the reality of a situation. He wrote more fully because he could visualize being in a moment without actually being there.

Standing across the room from a sleeping Nicole, his breath feeling tight in his chest, he ran the possibilities through his mind, felt the whisper of her skin against his…and knew he had to wake her. Their relationship existed on a fragile balance. She needed him to free her father and he—He needed whatever had recently freed up his mind.

“Nicole!” He made his voice crisp. “Wake up and go back to your hotel.”

* * *

“Claire?” Nicole said, glad it was earlier in Arkansas than in New York. She’d just gotten into her hotel room and had hurried to call Claire before her friend became alarmed. “I’m home and I’m safe.”

“Good,” Claire said. “Still no passes from the Ogre, huh?”

“Nope,” Nicole said, stifling a yawn. “Just working me to death, nothing else. But this book is beautiful. He has the most beautiful mind.”

“Be grateful its author isn’t pestering you,” Claire advised. “I guess you were right when you said he was harmless.”

Nicole frowned, picturing Max’s tall, well-shaped body and his sardonic smile. “I never said he was ‘harmless.’ I just said he’s not interested in me, in particular. I also didn’t say he wasn’t pestering me. The man’s silence can be louder than anyone I’ve ever known. He’s anything but harmless.”

“Okay,” her friend said peaceably.

“Max also happens to be pretty dang buff,” Nicole told her, kicking off her slippers to climb into bed, “He’s got an entire gym in his apartment. If he wanted to, I’ll bet he could cause a woman quite a bid of ‘harm’.”

“Well, thank heavens, he hasn’t had the urge to work his wiles on you,” Claire said, sounding tired herself.

“Yes,” Nicole muttered as she slipped under the quilt. “Thank heavens.”

* * *

Nicole bit into the piece of apple and smiled across the table the room service people had set up in her room. Max’s agent, Ruth, sat on the other side, sharing breakfast. Nicole had met the woman once or twice in the last week, when Ruth stopped buy to talk to Max. She liked the woman and was glad when Ruth had called out-of-the-blue asking to share her breakfast.

“So Max actually had you cancel my wake-up call? I’m surprised the hotel let you.”

The other woman nodded. “Yes. I told them your boss had canceled your usual early-morning meeting. Max said you left his place really late and should probably get some more sleep.”

“Weird.” Nicole chewed the apple. Max having a considerate impulse was hard to imagine.

Ruth looked at Nicole with speculation in her dark eyes as she buttered a muffin. “Don’t tell him I said so, but Max has his decent moments. Sometimes. You just never know what’ll bring them out. Other than the press—he’s never decent to reporters. And he can’t tolerate the paparazzi. But…I think he likes you.”

Ruth laughed and then grew more serious. “Max is struggling right now. I’m not sure what the deal is, but he’s…grouchier than usual.”

“Thank heavens he’s not always this chilly,” Nicole commented.

Ruth had apparently worked with him for a number of years and seemed to be in a position of confidence as far as he was concerned. From what Nicole had seen of him, Max never gave unqualified confidence to anyone, so she had to assume Ruth did a darned good job at being his agent. Still, she seemed a nice, friendly woman.

“So you represent both Max and his brother,” Nicole said casually.

Ruth flung a startled glance at her paused with a forkful of eggs halfway to her mouth. “Max told you about Pete?”

“In a way,” Nicole said, noting the woman’s shock. “Why? Shouldn’t he have? Is it a secret that he’s got a brother? Or that you work with them both?”

“No.” Ruth shook her head. “But Max doesn’t usually talk about Pete.”

“Why not?” Nicole sliced her muffin in two and buttered one half.

Ruth was silent for several minutes, clearly weighing her words. “Max and Pete are pretty…estranged. They’ve never really been close.”

“You’d think they’d be close,” Nicole observed. “Since they only have each other. I mean, my dad and I are the only ones left in our family and I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to him.”

Ruth’s narrow face grew meditative.

“Maybe so,” she said, shrugging, “but I think there’s always been a sense of competition between Max and Pete. Pete’s got a good strong career now, but nothing like Max’s. I think he’s always felt over-shadowed by his younger, more brilliant brother.”

Slanting her a glance, Nicole chided, “More brilliant just because he’s more successful?”

“No.” Ruth shook her head. “More brilliant just because he
is.
Don’t get me wrong, Pete’s a great, solid guy. Any woman would be lucky to have him in her corner. He’s steady and he’s a hard worker, but…he and Max and nothing alike. They look a little like one another, but that’s it.”

Nicole’s gaze rested on the rich table cloth in front of her. “I guess different kids get different things genetically.”

The other woman nodded. “Not that Pete’s a slouch. He writes saleable non-fiction. Does very well for himself—and me. He’s actually getting a big non-fiction career award in the next few weeks. But he still doesn’t feel…you know, as good.”

Finishing her muffin, Nicole pondered. “So Pete’s grown up in his younger brother’s shadow and he can’t get over it.”

“There’s more to it than that,” Ruth said, looking uncomfortable as she reached for the carafe of orange juice. “Their parents weren’t really warm-hearted people. They missed Pete’s wedding—they’ve just never been a close family. I mean, I don’t think Max has seen Pete’s son since he was a toddler and he’s six or seven now. Ryan plays on the same tee-ball team as my son, Josh.”

“That’s so sad.” Nicole put down her muffin and stared at Ruth. She couldn’t imagine having a sibling and being uninvolved in his life to the point of not knowing his son.

“Yes,” Ruth said. “It is sad, but it’s been that way a long time—a lot of water under the bridge—and there’s not much anyone can do about it.”

Watching the woman, Nicole thought about Max with all his acclaim and all his money. She’d teased him about his lifestyle, but he was a tremendously isolated man. Despite the lawsuit he still held over her father’s head, she couldn’t help pitying him.

* * *

Two days later, Nicole switched off the television and turned to leave the small sitting area.

“I can’t believe you choose to spend your time watching talk shows,” Max commented as she walked past him, headed for the office.

Reacting to the inference in his words, she stiffened, saying defensively, “
Johnna!
isn’t just a talk show. She’s not your typical sleazy host.”

He made a soft scoffing noise in his throat. “Next Week! Pimps Who Pierce Their Armpits.”

Glaring over her shoulder at him, Nicole said, “Johnna doesn’t sink that low. She does uplifting, spiritual themes.”

“Even worse. Just what the world needs—another housewife from Boise getting her hair highlighted for free,” Max mocked following her as she went in and sat down in front of the computer.

“She doesn’t just do make-overs,” Nicole informed him loftily as she went in and sat down at the computer, “although a good haircut and the right make-up can make a woman feel like a new person.
Johnna!
also does shows on children’s books and meditation and she has experts who help people change their lives!”

“That’s even worse,” Max declared. “Vague, hyper-emotional pronouncements that add nothing to the masses’ understanding, but simply recycle the most obvious concepts of the last century. Drink water! Go to sleep at night!
Those
are certainly new health concepts.”

“Well, some people need to be reminded of the simple things,” she snapped, annoyed by his superior attitude. “Not everyone can be as fabulously intelligent as you.”

He looked at her narrowly, but said nothing beyond recommending she get back to work.

“Work!” she exclaimed, succumbing to the temptation to say what she’d been thinking for days. “That’s all we ever do! Other than one hour a week watching
Johnna!
Work, work, work!”

“That’s what we’re here to do,” he said, as if closing the conversation.

“How can you live this sort of life?” Nicole demanded, knowing she should be careful, but not really caring if he got mad at her. “Day in, day out—nothing but work. It’s unnatural and crazy. From sun-up to way past sundown. Do you know I’ve been working here for two weeks and the only person I know besides you is Ruth? I know about her two sons and her husband, but I’ve never met them.”

Max looked at her, saying dispassionately, “He’s decent. Her kids are good kids. Now, are you almost finished with chapter—“

“That’s not the point!” Nicole insisted, not allowing him to distract her. “Do you socialize with anyone? The life you live isn’t natural. No wonder you’re so weird—“

He glared at her.

“—you’re isolated.
You
should watch a few talk shows. You might get a little closer to reality,” she recommended, ignoring the anger growing on his face. What was he going to do? Fire her?

In some ways, she felt exhilarated to have sparked a normal human reaction from him, even if it was anger. Anger was a start.

“Why would I want to watch talk shows. The media presents no accurate representation of reality,” Max shot back. “They’re all about hype and distortion. Especially, the so-called ‘reality’ show craze a few years back. The media has no interest in accuracy or truth. Their only interest is in money. If you doubt that, try becoming a ‘public figure’ and see how many skeletons you knew nothing about are suddenly discovered in your family closet.”

Nicole rolled her eyes. “Like you’re such an expert on family anything.”

“Exactly what are you referring to?” he demanded, his brows snapped together above his eyes.

“Your brother and the way you ignore his existence,” she told him, conscious of a kind of exhilaration in the verbal duel between them.

“You know nothing about that subject,” he said dangerously. “Don’t parade your ignorance.”

“I know quite a bit,” Nicole volleyed back. “Ruth told me all about it. How can you sleep at night since you shoved your own brother out of your life? I could see how nervous he was just dropping off that check the other day.”

“I’m sure it hasn’t occurred to you that he may be the one insisting on having no contact with me,” Max said angrily.

“That’s probably what he
says,
but is that what he means? I’m sure he gets prickly and resentful sometimes. He had to grow-up in your shadow. You always got the attention. All the big money, while he’s just an average, run-of-the-mill writer plugging away. But you’re the privileged one—“