Private Affair(66)

Olivia started to shake. She hadn’t bargained for a confrontation with Jerry. She’d thought she could avoid talking to him until this was over.

“She came down here because her best friend from high school was murdered,” Max said.

“You’re saying she deliberately put herself in danger?” Jerry asked, his voice clearly audible.

“No,” Max answered, then put his hand over the instrument. “Do you want me to tell him to fuck off?”

The blunt question shocked her. Part of her reason for coming home was to put some distance between herself and Jerry. But she wasn’t ready to go that far with him.

“I guess I’d better talk to him,” she said to Max.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

He handed her the phone, and she clamped her hand around it in a death grip. “I have to see this through,” she said.

“Why?”

“Because it will haunt me for the rest of my life if I don’t.”

Jerry snorted. Apparently the concept of loyalty to a dead friend was beyond his pay grade.

“This changes everything,” he said.

“How?”

“Jesus. You could get pregnant. You could ruin your figure.” He stopped short, then said, “Are you pregnant now? Is that why you’re hiding out?”

Olivia glanced at Max, suddenly thinking that she could be. “No,” she said.

“You’re not doing that Million Dollar Babe shoot are you?” Jerry asked.

“No,” she answered, realizing she had made up her mind.

“I think I can get them to take Yvonne Mitchell.”

“Sure. Go ahead,” Olivia answered. She’d come down here not knowing what she wanted. Apparently she’d made a decision, but she hadn’t known it until now.

“We’ll talk later,” he said.

“Yes,” she answered, wondering if they would ever talk again—except through a lawyer. After all, she did have a contract with the man, a contract she’d been eager to sign ten years ago because it had felt like he was offering her the moon and Christmas all rolled together. She remembered that feeling like Superman had taken her hand and was flying her over the skies of New York. Now she was thinking she’d been a fool to trust that he had her best interests at heart. He’d seen a good thing when she walked into his office—a girl with raw talent who could be groomed and controlled.

She clicked off and looked up to see Max watching her.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Not your fault.”

“Well, I shouldn’t have said I was your fiancé—not to him. It just slipped out.”

Yeah, she thought, like a Freudian slip.

She could mumble something about the heat of the moment. Instead, she kept her gaze on Max. “Do you want to be my fiancé?”

He went very still, then looked away. “I’d make a lousy spouse.”

“How do you know?”

“My background. I don’t even know what a good husband is. My dad certainly wasn’t a great role model.”

“I could say the same for mine. But that’s not the point. What if I am pregnant?” she whispered.

“I’d never run out on you and the baby.”

She closed her eyes for a moment. She’d asked the question without thinking through the implications. So he’d stay if it was to protect an innocent child, not because he wanted her. Or had he told Jerry he was engaged to her because that was what he really wanted?

She couldn’t work her way through any of that now. She couldn’t even be sure of her own feelings. And maybe she wouldn’t be until they solved the murder. As that last thought surfaced, she squared her shoulders.

“Let’s go lean on Brian Cannon.”

He looked relieved at the change of subject.

“Be right back.” She ran into the bedroom to get her purse. When she returned to the living room, he was holding the two sticky buns nestled in two napkins. “We can eat this on the way.”

“The nourishing part?”

“The fun part.”

“Right. On the way to interview a murder suspect.” She stopped and said, “Is he?”

“It’s unlikely,” Max answered. “But the sooner we find out…” He let his voice trail off, and she didn’t ask what he’d been thinking.

Maybe it was, the sooner we can sort out our relationship. She hoped so, and she hoped the conclusion would be what she wanted to hear. Which was what? Did she even know? Did he? Were they two screwed-up people who had been thrown together and were now clinging to each other? She didn’t like to put it that way. She knew she cared about Max. And he was acting like he cared about her. Plus he’d told her things about his past that he hadn’t liked sharing. But what if he’d done it to get her to open up with him? She was still confused, but she couldn’t focus on the two of them now.