Heartfire (20 page)

Max.  It was odd but she missed not being with him.

Emma rose to her feet and reached her hand out to Becky.  "Why don’t we get the menu.  It’s in the bedroom.  And you can decide if a burger is really what you want."

Linc crooked his finger at his wife and she crossed to the sofa.  Bending down, she gave him a kiss.  He touched her face and then she and Becky left the room.

"You’re happy," Tessa commented.

"Happier than I ever thought I could be."  His gaze followed his wife and daughter as they went into the bedroom.  Then he turned to Tessa.  "So what’s so important you can’t do the interview with the governor.  We never got into that.  You just turned me down cold.  Do you have another assignment?"

"No.  I’m helping out a…friend.  With my godson."

"The little boy in Vermont you sometimes talk about?"

"Yes.  Ryan.  He’s eight now and having some problems in school.  I went to Vermont for his birthday—I do that every year—and decided to stay a little longer."

"His dad is your friend?"

"Actually his wife was my best friend.  Since she died Max has tried to be mom and dad to Ryan, but that’s tough.  So I’m trying to figure out what’s bothering Ryan…if he misses having a mom or if there’s more to it.  But I can only stay until mid-November and then I’ll be taping all sorts of segments for the Summit."  She hesitated a moment then said, "But I’m afraid Ryan is getting attached to me and I’ll have done more harm than good staying with them."

"Giving a child love can’t hurt."  He looked thoughtful.  "So you’re living with this…friend?"

For some reason she didn’t feel awkward talking about this with Linc.  Maybe because they’d always been honest with each other…maybe because she knew what
he’d
been through before he married Emma.  They’d had some honest conversations over drinks when they worked together on a project and she wasn’t flying off somewhere right away.

"I am.  And that could be a problem for him.  He’s a teacher. "

"What does he think?"

"He wants me there for Ryan’s sake."

"Is that the only reason?" Linc asked perceptively.

"I’m not sure," Tessa answered glancing away.

"Do you care about him as well as his son?"

She’d admitted it to herself.  Maybe if she admitted it to Linc, her loving Max would become more real.  "Yes, I do.  But nothing can work out.  Not with the work I do.  He’s traditional.  Leslie was a homemaker.  I’m not his type."

"Emma and I had extraordinarily different lifestyles.  But we’re happy."

"You’re both in the same place."

Linc’s brows arched.  "Maybe you should figure out how to do work you love yet stay in the same place.  It is possible."

Was that possible?  Would her restlessness abate if she felt she actually belonged somewhere?  If she’d be part of a real family?

That idea would take a lot of reflection.  Because what if she stayed and Max didn’t feel as deeply about her as she felt about him?

"If you need anything, Tessa, you know I have contacts."

"I’m not worried about contacts," she told him.  "I’m worried about how much risk I want to take."

"Loving is a risk," Linc agreed.  "But it sure can make life worthwhile."

Becky ran into the room again, waving the menu.  "They have chicken nuggets.  I changed my mind."

Tessa was glad for the interruption.  Because loving Max was a concept that was still just too hard to wrap her head around…let alone her heart.

***

After Max put Ryan to bed, he went to his bedroom and dialed Tessa’s cell number.  To his disappointment, he reached her voicemail.  He wondered where she was and who she was with.  The man who'd called?  He could try the Bennington, but she probably wouldn’t pick up there, either.  Leaving a message, he simply asked her to return his call.  When she did, it was almost midnight.

"Max?  I just checked my messages.  Is something wrong?"

"No.  Nothing’s wrong," he assured her quickly.  I’m calling because tomorrow…actually today is your birthday.  Happy birthday!"

"Thank you."

Max felt a little awkward but continued,  "I thought you shouldn't spend your birthday alone.  I thought I’d catch a train and join you in New York tomorrow.  For a late lunch…or dinner."

"Will you bring Ryan?" she asked as if searching for his motive.

"No.  I’d come alone.  Flo and Scruffy are going to babysit."  He tried to keep his voice nonchalant.

"It would be fun to spend some time with you in New York," she said cautiously.  "But I have a lunch meeting and I’m joining friends for a late dinner."

Before he could stop himself, he asked, "Were you with friends tonight?"  He was hoping there wasn’t a man still in her room with her.

"Yes.  Linc Granger and his wife Emma."

"His wife was with him?"  This was the man who’d called, who Tessa had been so warm with.

Tessa laughed.  "Don’t you think any of my friends are married?"  When he didn't respond she went on, "Linc and Emma married last year.  He had business in New York, so his wife and daughter came along."

"Daughter?"

"Emma was a single mom.  She and Becky went to the American Girl doll store while Linc was tied up.  We had dinner in their suite so they could put Becky to bed at a decent time.  You know how that is."

Yes, he did.  "And these friends tomorrow night?"

"They’re more colleagues than friends.  Why don’t you come up and we can get theater tickets.  We can see a show then you can go to dinner with me."

"You’d enjoy the theater?"

"Very much."

"Your friends won't mind?

"No.  They like meeting new people."

He felt relieved…and excited, too.  "I’ll see what tickets I can find online.  I’ll surprise you."

"I like surprises, Max," she said softly and he wished he was in New York with her now.  He was glad he’d bought her the chain.

"Great.  I’ll see you tomorrow.  What’s your room number?  I’ll call you after I check in."

She told him.  Then she said, "I’m looking forward to tomorrow night.  Good night, Max.  Thanks for wishing me a happy birthday."

"Good night, Tessa."

When he closed his phone, he realized how much he was looking forward to tomorrow night, too.

***

Max could feel the warmth of Tessa's leg as the cab swerved around a corner.  The taxi driver honked his horn at the car double-parked in front of him.  With another honk and a screech of wheels, he veered around the vehicle.  Tessa's hip bumped Max's as she slid against him on the cracked vinyl seat.

Max didn't mind and he didn't move away.  He wondered if her beige coat was new.  It wasn't easily packable like her trench coat.  And the dress underneath—

The royal blue dress with its high neck, short puffed sleeves and slim short skirt brought out the sleek lines and tempting curves Tessa usually hid underneath jeans and a sweatshirt.  She wasn't hiding anything tonight.  He’d wanted to give her her present before leaving for the theater.  But they’d been short on time.  So he’d decided to wait for the right moment…maybe after they returned tonight.

He’d managed to buy tickets for a popular show, but he really hadn’t cared about the play.  He’d cared about being with Tessa.  Now, after the performance, the taxi wove in and out of traffic toward the restaurant.

Like many restaurants in New York, HENRY'S didn't look like much on the outside.  But as soon as Max stepped inside, he could feel the understated elegance.  It was dimly lit by gleaming brass chandeliers.  Wrought iron partitions afforded diners a modicum of privacy.  Rose linens trimmed in black set off the sparkling crystal goblets and spotless silverware.  After Max checked Tessa's coat, they walked up to the maitre d' at his little black podium.

"Ms. Kahill.  It's good to see you again.  Your friends have already arrived.  I've placed you at the back round table."

"Thank you," she said with a bright smile as she followed the tuxedo-clad man to the rear of the restaurant.

Max had often wondered about Tessa's world.  Now he was glimpsing it.

A woman and two men sat at the round table.  They were involved in lively conversation, but it stopped when Max and Tessa reached the table.  One of the men whistled, another pretended to wipe his brow as his gaze ran up and down Tessa's dress.

The woman gave both of them a "down-boys" glare.  "Ignore them.  They've been on assignment too long."

"After that trek south of our border, Tessa looks mighty good.  Of course, so do you, Louise."

The petite brunette laughed.  "Still a master at tact, Dan."  She turned to Tessa.  "How are you?  It's been a while."

Tessa nodded.  "Capetown.  Last year."

"I hear you're covering the Summit," Louise commented.  "Lucky girl."

Max nodded to the maitre d' that he would seat Tessa.  As he pulled her chair out for her, she said, "Before we start talking shop, I want everyone to meet Max Winthrop."  She introduced him to Dan Holloway, Louise Shaeffer and Joe Christopher.

The men shook his hand.  Louise smiled.  As he seated Tessa and took the chair beside her, he examined Dan Holloway more closely.  He was obviously interested in Tessa in more than a professional way.  Max could tell by the guy’s frown of disapproval that she’d brought him along…by the way he was eyeing Tessa in her dress.  The journalist was in his early forties with thick but salt and pepper hair.  His blue eyes seemed to concentrate on Tessa much too long.  Unfortunately, he was sitting across from her so he had a good view.  But Max was close enough to touch her.  His body responded to the thought.

Tessa spread her napkin on her lap.  "Have you ordered yet?"

"Just drinks," Louise answered.  She addressed Max.  "How do you know Tessa?  Are you in TV?  What's left of print?"

Max glanced at Tessa, not knowing how much she'd told any of these people.  "We've known each other for years.  I came to New York to help her celebrate—"  A sharp kick to his shin made him turn in her direction.  She was smiling sweetly, but he got the message.  "To help her celebrate her upcoming trip to Oslo."

"Prime assignment," the man introduced as Joe muttered.

Louise added, "I'm just glad Tessa has climbed the ladder and cracked the glass ceiling."

It was obvious that Tessa's colleagues respected her.  And it was even more obvious during conversation over dinner that Tessa and the others spoke their own language and were much more knowledgeable about the world's affairs than Max was, though the world seemed to be growing smaller every day.

By the time dessert arrived, Louise poured cream into her coffee and said, "Enough about politics.  Don't we have anything else to talk about?"