Janet Evanovich - Full Tilt

"Yeah, dude, we need a plan."

"Let's walk," Vito said. "We can't be seen hanging around, even in these disguises. I need to think."

Lenny nodded. "Yeah, we gotta stay one step ahead of him."

Vito stopped and looked at him. "You know, you're right. Damn, Lenny, just when I think you've fried your brain huffing Sterno, you come up and say something smart."

"Yeah?"

"So, where do you figure Max will go next?"

"Well, let me think." Lenny looked up suddenly. "There's only a few places I can think of, and we can't get close to two of them, meaning the newspaper and Fontana's place."

"Where else?"

"You've seen Jamie Swift. Where would you go?"

"Straight to the nearest motel," Vito replied. He suddenly brightened. "But why rent a motel when she's got her own place?"

They gave each other a high five.

* * * * *

Max followed Jamie home at the end of the day. She parked her Mustang convertible in the garage as Max parked his car in the driveway. He followed her toward the front door of a sprawling frame house that sat on a lawn in dire need of cutting.

"I don't have time for yard work," Jamie said, "in case you didn't notice. The only saving grace is the fact the grass next door is twice as high."

Max glanced at the house beside hers where a For Sale sign sat near the mailbox. "Looks like your neighbors are moving."

"They're already gone. Which explains why the yard hasn't been cut."

Max followed her inside the house. "I like your place. It looks comfortable."

Jamie glanced about the living room. Her dark beige sofa and matching chair were old, but they had been well cared for, as had the antique library table and desk her grandmother had left her. Jamie had not been able to part with them when she'd sold off other items in order to put money into the newspaper. Two Andrew Wyeth prints adorned one wall. It was simple and uncluttered, the way she preferred it, but she couldn't think why a man with Max's wealth would appreciate it. "I'll bet your place is a lot nicer."

"Right now it's a mess from all the renovations I'm doing."

"Why would you do it yourself when you can afford to pay someone?"

He shrugged. "Why not? I enjoy it." He glanced around once more. "So you grew up in this house?"

"Yes. Come with me, I want to show you something."

He followed Jamie out the back door. "Nice yard."

She smiled. "The flower beds need weeding, but I don't have time for that, either." She pointed. "See that tire swing? My daddy put that up when I was a little girl. It's lasted all these years."

"The two of you were very close?"

"Yeah." She felt Max's eyes on her. "My mother left while I was still in diapers. I don't think my dad ever got over it."

"How about you? Did you ever get over it?"

She gave him a strange look. "I had no choice."

"You haven't seen her since?"

"No. This probably sounds cold, but I don't think I'd want to. Would you like a cup of coffee?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Sure." Max followed her back inside.

"This is my favorite room," Jamie said. "I have fond memories of my dad and me playing cards at this table. He was a big gin rummy fan. We had some marathon games." She smiled at the memory. "I usually won, but I think he let me." She motioned toward a chair. "Have a seat."

Max sat down at a round oak table while she made the coffee. "Will Phillip be angry that you've chosen not to stay at his place?" he asked.

"He's pretty laid-back. I'm the one with the temper." She smiled. "You might say he has his hands full with me."

Max watched her pull out cups and saucers. Neither of them said anything for a moment. "What's his mother like?"

Jamie heard the sound of a lawn mower and wished it were her yard being cut. "Annabelle can be a little flighty at times. Sort of like Deedee. But she has done a lot for this town." Jamie reached into the refrigerator for the cream, grabbed the sugar dish and set them on the table. "Annabelle is responsible for organizing the building of our women's shelter, the Help Center, and now she's fighting to build a nursing home."

"Busy woman."

"I can't help but respect all she's done for this town, even if she tends to get on my nerves now and then with her constant chatter." Jamie joined him at the table and filled the cups with fresh coffee. Max asked her about growing up in Beaumont, and she told him what it had been like.

"We had our usual hangouts in high school," she said. "The bowling alley was the place to be because we all played pinball and air hockey and soft drinks were cheap. That was before they built the arcade, of course. And there was the drive-in." She chuckled. "I can't tell you how many monster movies I've seen or how many boys tried to get me into the backseat of their cars."

"Smart guys."

She ignored him. "It has been closed for years now. Oh, and I used to roller-skate."

"I'll bet you were good at it."

Jamie was surprised what a good listener Max was. Perhaps that's why he was so successful. When you talked to Max Holt he gave his undivided attention. "It was a puny little town then," she added, "compared to the booming metropolis it is now."

Max smiled. "There's something to be said for small towns."

Jamie was quiet for a moment. "I've been afraid to ask, but I was wondering how it went with Tom and Herman."

"They're happier than a pig in mud right now because I gave them a lot of business. Of course, they're still mourning the death of Daisy the cat."

Jamie rolled her eyes heavenward. "I think I'm better off not asking about poor Daisy, but at least Tom and Herman aren't going to sue me. What a relief!"

"Hey, I'm good."

"Oh, brother."

"Admit it."

Jamie knew if she agreed it would only serve to raise his already mammoth ego another notch. "You do okay."

"It's nice to hear that you're developing respect for me. I think that's important in a relationship."

Jamie's look was deadpan. "Let me remind you, Holt, we don't have a relationship, except for maybe the one that exists in your own mind."

"You're a hard woman, Swifty."

"Meaning I'm not putty in your hands. And don't call me Swifty."

"I'm pretty good with my hands."

"All men think they're good, Max. It's a woman's job to convince them of it even when they really aren't."

"Are you speaking from experience?"

Jamie's face flushed a bright red. "I was just making idle chitchat."

"Yeah, whatever, but some of us really are good."

Jamie had to laugh. "You're hopeless."

"Yeah, but what can I do?"

She saw that he was joking, and she couldn't help but enjoy the camaraderie. Life had been far too serious lately. She became thoughtful. "You're really not a bad guy even if you can be intolerable at times."

"There it is, I knew I could win you over. Won't be long before I have you eating out of my hand."

She muttered a sound of disgust. "See how you are?"

He looked amused. "Work with me, Jamie. Humility doesn't come easy for me."

She was quiet for a moment. "You know, I'm not the shrew you think I am. It's not always easy for me to warm up to new people, and I sometimes have trouble getting close."

"Tell me something I don't already know."

Jamie hitched her chin high. "You see how you are, Holt? I tell you something personal about me, and you have to be a smart aleck about it. Just when I start thinking you're a decent guy."

"I am a decent guy."

"And I was close to saying something really nice about you."

"Oh, yeah? Like what?"

"I'm not going to tell you now, for Pete's sake."

"Come on, Jamie. Say something nice. I won't hold you to it."

"You can be so exasperating."

He frowned. "That's supposed to be nice?"

"I was trying to tell you that I've noticed how easy it is for you to warm up to people. You seem to fit in wherever you go. You always seem to do and say the right thing."