A Conflict of Interest. Barbara DunlopЧитать онлайн книгу.
not worried about them hurting me. But it’s like dodging moving pylons. Pylons that bruise easily. I’m not about to have running over an eight-year-old girl on my conscience.”
“We could do a black diamond run.”
They had a couple of hours left before dark.
“Sure. Up there, I can take out a twelve-year-old. That’ll help me sleep better.” Max bent down to pop the clips on his own snowboard.
“It’s a statewide outdoors club jamboree,” Jake put in helpfully as he released his own bindings. “They’ll be here for a week.”
“We’ve got work to do anyway.” Max stood his board up in the snow, removing his helmet and goggles.
The two men had spent the morning in the older part of Fields, talking to the ranching crowd. So far, they’d met a number of people who’d known the president when he was a teenager. Unfortunately, none of them were willing to go on camera. And none would admit to knowing anything about Eleanor.
“I think the ranchers have all headed home by now,” Jake observed. “Early to bed and early to rise.”
“Maybe. But their kids and grandkids will be at clubs dancing with the tourists. Who knows what kind of stories have been passed down about the Morrows?”
“You’re going to play the tourist and mix and mingle?”
“Why not?” Max had been pleasantly surprised by how respectful the people of Fields seemed to be. It was obvious many of them recognized him from his television show, but they mostly smiled and nodded and kept their distance. Few even asked for autographs.
Back in D.C.—and in New York and L.A.—people were much more aggressive. It was impossible for him to walk into any restaurant, lounge or club in D.C. without being approached by a dozen people. Being in Fields was quite refreshing.
“Can we get a burger first?” Jake asked, brushing the snow off his board with the back of his glove. “I’m starving.”
“Works for me.” Max started to walk back to the lodge. “Are those pip-squeaks really going to be here all week?”
His and Jake’s rooms were uncomfortably close to the indoor pool complex. There’d been a steady stream of shrieking and stomping children up and down their hall both last night and this morning.
“Yes, they are,” Jake responded. “I talked to one of their leaders up top.”
“Lovely,” Max drawled.
He wasn’t a kid person. Some people seemed to see right past the noise, the mess, the smell and the irrationality to the cute, lovable little tykes beneath.
Max was in awe of those people. He preferred rationality. Or, at least, predicable irrationality. If there was one thing he’d learned about adults, it was they could always be counted on to act in their own best interests.
“I called down and asked the hotel manager to move us,” said Jake.
Max brightened. “You did?”
“I’ve got your back, buddy.” Jake smacked him on the shoulder. “We’re each in a one-bedroom villa up on the hillside. It’s adults only.”
“I love you, man.”
Jake chuckled. “It was the hot spring pools that made up my mind. Well, that and the fact that Jessica walked out on me last week. I don’t want to spend my first assignment as a bachelor surrounded by grade-schoolers.”
“Jessica walked out on you?”
Jake pulled off a glove with his teeth. “She’ll be back. But until then, I am under no obligation to be faithful to her.”
“She’s clear on that?”
They took the staircase leading to the equipment lockers.
“I’m single and she’s single. She can bang half of D.C. while I’m gone for all I care.”
“I take it she’s not ‘the one.’”
“It’s way too soon to tell.”
Max couldn’t help but grin at that as they entered the cavernous, warehouselike building. “Trust me, Jake. If she was the one, you’d kill any guy who looked sideways at her, never mind slept with her.”
“You’re an expert?” Jake scoffed.
“I know that much.”
Max wasn’t even Cara’s boyfriend and he had a hard time thinking about her with any other guy. Technically, the two of them were single. But that was only a technicality, based on current circumstances. It didn’t mean he’d look twice at another woman.
They stowed their boards and gear, changed out of the snowboard boots and headed for the Alpine Grill on the street out front. Max was still pondering his and Cara’s single status when the waitress brought them each a mug of red ale from a local microbrewery.
He and Jake had taken seats on the lounge side of the rustic, hewn-beam restaurant, which was adults only. But the shrieks and cries of children came through the doorway from the restaurant. Then a group of people burst into a rollicking rendition of “Happy Birthday.” Evidently, someone named Amy had reached a milestone.
“Shall I mention that it’s your birthday?” asked Jake.
“Now that would be a treat,” Max returned dryly.
He took a drink of the foamy beer. He’d turned thirty today. Some people thought of it as a milestone. Max didn’t see it that way. He’d been twenty-nine and three hundred and sixty-four days yesterday. Thirty was only twenty-four hours older. He really didn’t get the big deal.
Jake craned his neck. “Good grief, they gave those little kids sparklers.”
Max turned to look.
When he did, it wasn’t the potential fire hazard that caught his eye. It was Cara. She was standing in the restaurant foyer, looking adorable in a waist-length, puffy, turquoise jacket, a pair of snug blue jeans and set of ankle-high black books. Her cheeks were bright red, her lips were shiny and her blue eyes were as striking as ever.
Max’s chest went tight. He scraped back his chair and rose from the table.
“Nobody’s on fire,” Jake pointed out. “Yet.”
Max didn’t respond. His attention was locked on Cara as he instinctively wound his way through the other tables. The shrieks of the children, the smell of grilling beef, the rainbow of ski clothing disappeared from his perception.
“Hello, Cara.” He offered her a friendly smile.
In response, her eyes went round with obvious shock and her jaw dropped open a notch. “Max,” she managed. “You’re in Fields.”
“I’m in Fields,” he returned.
She gave her head a little shake, as if she was trying to wake herself from a dream. But Max wasn’t going anywhere.
The hostess appeared in front of them. “For two?” the young woman asked, glancing from Cara to Max.
“Just one,” said Cara.
“Join us,” said Max. “Jake is here,” he quickly finished, so she wouldn’t think it would look like a date.
Cara had met Jake a couple of times over the past few months. As far as Jake was concerned, Cara was an acquaintance of Max’s, no different than hundreds of other people on the periphery of his life as a news reporter.
Cara hesitated while the woman waited, her bright, welcoming smile flickering with confusion.
Cara glanced to Jake, then obviously concluded refusing his offer would garner more curiosity than accepting it would.
“Sure,” she said to