Janet Evanovich - Full Tilt

"I can't afford it," she confessed. "If you saw my circulation you'd laugh."

"Why do you stay?"

"I guess it's in my blood." She smiled. "Maybe I need a transfusion." She drained her glass. "So tell me something interesting about yourself. Anything. Something I can print."

He shrugged. "I'm afraid you'd find my life rather boring. I live on a farm in Virginia. My house is old and falling apart. I'm in the process of renovating it. When I have time," he added.

"You're doing the work yourself?"

"Uh-huh."

Jamie looked at his hands. They were nice and brown and strong looking. "I should hire you to renovate the newspaper building. It's falling apart, too. I never really noticed how bad it was until today. I've got this big-shot investor visiting tomorrow. I'm sure he'll get a huge laugh when he takes a look at the place."

"It can't be all that bad."

"Trust me on this one. The man will take one look at the place and wish he'd never put any of his money in my little newspaper." She sighed heavily. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm telling you all this. I guess I just needed to talk to someone. I've had a crummy day."

"You know what you need?"

"Yeah, a sword to fall on."

"No, seriously. I know what will cheer you up."

Jamie's eyes narrowed. He was so easy to talk to she'd forgotten he was drop-dead gorgeous and a little on the flirtatious side. "I'll just bet you do."

"I've got this cool car. My friends call it my Maxmobile. We could take a ride."

"I'm engaged."

"Hey, listen, if I were trying to pick you up I would have used a better line than that."

"I bet you've got a lot of lines."

"I don't need them. Most women come on to me."

Jamie laughed out loud. "You know, I wouldn't want to pay your grocery bill. I'll bet it takes a lot to feed your ego."

"That's just a front I put on to hide my shyness."

He gave her a smile that would melt a woman's bones. She might be engaged, but she wasn't blind.

"Yeah, I was just noticing what an introvert you are."

"I'm serious about my car," he said. "I have a computer inside that talks to me. She's a real pistol."

"A computer that talks to you. Now, there's a line I've never heard. And after that we'd want to go by your place to see your etchings. No, thanks. Wouldn't want to miss out on the delicious overdone roast beef they're serving tonight." Probably she would be dining alone. Well, what did it matter? She was a new-millennium woman and all that, and she was on business. Phillip could stuff his tax law business up his behind because she was quite capable of mingling with the best of them, including his mother, Annabelle Standish, Beaumont's Queen Bee of high society.

"Before you go, would you give me the name of that hamburger joint you mentioned a few minutes ago?" Max asked. "As much as I hate to eat alone, it sounds a lot tastier than this evening's fare."

Jamie's mouth watered at the thought of Harry's famous burgers and onion rings. And milkshakes so thick it felt as though you would suck your guts out getting them through the straw. She sighed.

"You're dying for a burger," Max said. "You're practically drooling."

"Yeah, but I can't. I have to take notes on Frankie's speech so I'll have something to put in my newspaper."

"We'll be back before the speech. Come on."

Jamie was sorely tempted. It would serve Phillip right. "Okay," she said at last. "We'll grab a burger and come right back. Let's go this way so nobody sees us leaving."

"Coward."

"Hey, I have to live in this town."

Max led her down the back steps and across the parking lot to his car. He pushed a button on his key ring, and the doors unlocked.

Jamie arched one brow. "Nice wheels." She climbed in, and a padded bar came down, locking into place. "What the—"

"I tend to drive fast," Max said. "The car is designed for speed, but it's equipped with more safety gadgets than a jetliner." He closed the door, joined her on the other side, and waited for the bar to lock him in, as well.

"Get a load of this dashboard," Jamie said.

"I have everything I could possibly need at my disposal. Muffin runs it all."

"Muffin?"

"My computer. You'll love her. She's somewhat of a smart aleck when she gets in a snit, but other than that—"

Jamie frowned. "What do you mean she gets into a snit? Computers don't get into a snit."

Max started the engine and shot out of the parking lot like a silver arrow. "On the contrary, Muffin can be moody."

Jamie's look was deadpan. "Moody, huh?"

"She wants me to change her name to Lee or Hannah because she claims it sounds stronger. She also doesn't like that I gave her a voice that sounds like Marilyn Monroe. It was all in fun."

"I see."

Max pulled onto the main road. "Muffin, I want you to meet Miss Jamie Swift from the newspaper office. I'm taking her for a ride."

Silence.

Jamie looked at the man. Not only had she just climbed into a car with a stranger, he was obviously unstable as well. And she was locked inside a metal bar. Damn.

"Muffin, you're being rude. Now, say hello to Miss Swift." Max looked at Jamie. "I knew it. She's in a mood."

Jamie's smile was forced. "That's okay. She doesn't have to talk if she doesn't want to." Jamie tested the bar that covered her. It didn't budge. It reminded her of the bars they closed over people during one of those crazy roller-coaster rides. She fidgeted with her hands, shifted in her seat. She felt trapped. She didn't like it. Not one bit.

And this Max person was talking crazy.

"Okay, Muffin, don't talk," Max said.

Jamie looked at him. Maybe he was playing a joke on her. He looked the type who would enjoy practical jokes. Either that or he was a nutcase.

"Um, I was just thinking, I really should be mingling with the crowd at the country club," Jamie finally said. "You know, to sort of get their take on our new candidate and all. I understand Frankie is going to have a big surprise. At least that's what I heard."

"You'll have plenty of time for that," Max replied. Suddenly, the car died. "Dammit, Muffin, that's not a bit funny! You're making a fool of me in front of Miss Swift. Now, restart the engine."

Nothing.

Max looked at Jamie. "I'm sorry." He turned the key and the engine came to life. All at once, the radio blared a country-western song that had something to do with a broken heart, an old dog, and a pickup truck. Max gritted his teeth and switched it off. "That's not funny, Muffin."

Jamie glanced out her window as he accelerated. She ought to have her head examined for coming with him in the first place. Once again, she'd let her temper get the best of her. Probably Phillip had a perfectly good reason for not showing up. Or maybe he was just running unusually late. A client could have come in at the last minute. Some of his clients could be long-winded. No doubt, Phillip had lost track of time. He sometimes did that when he talked tax law.

Or maybe, just maybe, she'd forgotten to tell him about the dinner. She rolled her eyes. It had happened before. She hadn't thought to touch base with him before she'd left her house because, as usual, she'd been running behind.

Whatever the reason for his not showing up, she had to learn to be more tolerant. Phillip certainly tried to work around her crazy schedule, and he seldom complained. She, on the other hand, was too impatient and always in a hurry. She let stress get to her until she just snapped and took it out on Phillip. She would start taking anger-control classes at the mental health center, that's what she'd do. Or start going to church with Vera. Most Baptists seemed sort of laid-back. They spent a lot of time sitting in lawn chairs in their backyards talking to friends and neighbors. She made a mental note to buy a lawn chair the next chance she got.