With a smirk, she asked, “So how did you two get together anyway? Was it a case of opposites attract?”
Olivia’s mouth went dry as cotton.
But Max smoothly repeated the response he’d given to some of the others earlier, about their meeting at a party and starting to talk about finances.
“But you trust him with your money as well as…uh…everything else,” Laura observed sweetly.
“Yes,” Olivia managed, thinking that the evening had gone pretty well until now.
“Is marriage going to interfere with your career?”
“No.”
“But you aren’t planning to get pregnant?”
“These days, that’s not a deterrent,” Olivia said. “Several of the Victoria’s Secret models had babies and continued to work. I could name a lot of them, like Heidi Klum, Adriana Lima…”
“But for now, I think we know how to avoid that,” Max added.
“You’re both living in New York?”
The questions were coming fast, too fast for Olivia to think. She’d held herself together through the meeting, but it had suddenly become difficult to maintain her cool.
Prickles of tension gnawed at her, and the headache she’d pushed to the background was suddenly pounding in her temples like a stereo speaker with the bass jacked up too high.
Chapter 4
Rescue came from the man with his arm around her. “It’s been a fun meeting, but it’s past our bedtime,” Max said in a loud voice.
Beside him, Olivia blinked, knowing he’d chosen those words and the loud tone for a very specific purpose—to make it seem like they were anxious to get home and jump each other’s bones.
She flushed as her pretend fiancé steered her out of the room. She walked stiffly beside him down the hall, neither one of them speaking, because they were both aware that the wrong people might be listening. Was anyone watching them from the doorway? The loving couple, who in reality barely knew each other.
Max held on to her all the way down the hall. It had still been light when they’d walked into the restaurant. As they stepped outside, Olivia saw it was dark. The air had cooled off, and she shivered as they headed for Max’s vehicle.
As they walked, he pulled out his phone and pressed the redial button, which meant he must be checking in with his partners.
“Nothing?” he asked.
When the man on the other end of the line agreed, he put the phone back in his pocket.
They didn’t speak to each other until they had climbed into the car. Turning to her, he said in a voice that helped dispel the chill she’d been feeling, “You did well.”
“So did you. Thanks.”
He nodded as he started the engine, pulled out of the parking space, and headed for her house. Well, to the house where she had grown up. Her parents were both gone now. Mom had passed while Olivia was still in high school, and Dad followed a few years after she’d left home. In fact, it was the money Mom had left her that had made it possible for her to pick up and go to New York. When Dad had died, she’d thought about selling the farm property.
But her financial advisor had told her to hang on to the house and surrounding acreage because the land was only going to go up in value. Since she hadn’t wanted to simply leave the house to deteriorate and she could afford to keep it up, she’d had workmen come in over the years to make sure everything was in good repair. And she didn’t have to feel guilty that valuable farmland was simply sitting idle. The guy who owned the next property over leased the land to grow corn and tomatoes.
With the house still in the family, she had a base of operations here. She’d paid a company to come in and give it a thorough cleaning before she’d arrived—with her new fiancé in tow. She fought a grimace. What was everyone going to think when they found out the whole marriage deal had been just a ruse to give Max the freedom he needed to investigate the incidents? Because deep down she was sure they had been murder.
“What?” Max asked, and she knew he’d seen her reaction. That was something she found hard to deal with. He picked up on everything. Well, she amended, it was a good thing—as long as he wasn’t focused on her.
“I was just thinking about the people at the meeting,” she fibbed.
“Are they the way you remember them?”
“Pretty much. Older versions of the kids who were in school with me. Well, Jill Cole slimmed down a lot,” she said, then glanced at Max. “You think I’m too concerned with people’s looks?”
“Naw. It’s part of your training.”
She was relieved he hadn’t thought less of her for that. Then she was annoyed with herself for caring. She’d hired him to do a job, and his opinion of her wasn’t relevant. Or it shouldn’t be. Changing the subject as they headed for the western part of the county, she asked, “Did anyone seem suspicious?”