Barbara Dunlop - A Conflict of Interest

“Eleanor Albert is an obvious priority.” Lynn counted her points off on her fingers. “Who is she? Where is she? Is she really Ariella’s mother? And what will she say publicly about the president? Two, there’s a whole town full of people out in Fields, Montana. We need to know what they know, what they remember and what they’re going to say publicly.”

Then she glanced up, her attention going to someone in the doorway behind Cara.

“There you are,” she said, waving her hand for the person to enter. “You might as well come on in.”

Cara turned, starting in astonishment as she came face-to-face with Max. He was dressed in blue jeans and square-toed boots, with an open-collar white shirt beneath his dark blazer. He was freshly shaved. His perpetually tousled hair, wide shoulders and rugged looks gave him a mantle of raw power, even though he was just a visitor to the West Wing.

He met her gaze, his expression neutral.

Even with Lynn in the room, Cara had a hard time controlling her annoyance. Max had gone on national television last night, disclosing what he knew about Ariella’s whereabouts. She didn’t know who his source had been, but he’d milked it for all it was worth, tossing both Ariella and the White House to the wolves in his quest for ratings.

“Have a seat.” Lynn pointed to the chair next to Cara’s. The two chairs were matching brown leather, low backed but rounded and comfortable, with carved mahogany arms.

Max moved guardedly, but he did as Lynn asked.

“Who’s your source?” Lynn shot out without preamble.

“Seriously?” asked Max with an arch of one brow, a carefully placed thread of amazement in his tone.

“How did you learn about Ariella?”

Cara was curious as well. Even she hadn’t known Ariella was headed for Potomac Airfield. She couldn’t imagine who had found out, or why they would tell Max of all people.

“You know perfectly well that I can’t disclose my sources,” Max said to Lynn, but he cast a glance Cara’s way, as well.

“You can when it’s a matter of security,” Lynn countered. “This might even be national security.”

Max sat back in his chair, “Really? Go on.”

“If she’s kidnapped,” said Lynn, twisting her ring. “If a foreign entity, or heaven help us all, a terrorist, gets their hands on the president’s daughter, it will absolutely be a situation of national security.”

“You don’t know that she’s his daughter.”

“Do you think the terrorists care? I was convinced by those pictures. And I’m pretty sure the rest of the nation was convinced by them, too. Do you think the president will take the chance that’s she’s not?”

Max’s body became alert. “So, you’re saying the president slept with Eleanor Albert.”

Lynn’s face paled a shade. “I’m saying nothing of the kind.”

But Max pounced on her small misstep. “If he hadn’t slept with her, this couldn’t possibly be a matter of national security.”

For a moment, Lynn was speechless.

Cara stepped in. “Who told you Ariella was going to Potomac Airfield?”

Max twisted his head to look at her. His eyes were cool, his expression a perfect, professional mask.

Cara pressed him. “Come on, Max. You don’t want Ariella hurt any more than we do. She’s innocent in all this. She needs Secret Service protection.”

“No kidding,” said Max. “And did you tell her that last night?”

Cara blinked, her insides clenching up.

He continued, “Did you tell her she needed the Secret Service?”

There was only one way for him to have known Ariella had come to Cara. “Of course I did. I begged her to let me help. I just finished explaining that to Lynn.”

Max turned back to Lynn. “You want to know my source? Ariella is my source. I know she went to Potomac Airfield because I drove her there. She’s gone, Lynn.”

Lynn sat up in her chair. “Why on earth didn’t you stop her?”

“Because the power of the press doesn’t extend to kidnapping and forcible confinement. She’s a grown woman. She’s an American citizen. And she’s free to come and go as she pleases.”

“Is she still in the country?” Cara asked.

“She told me she had her passport.”

“You didn’t report on any of that last night.”

He slowly turned back to Cara, his expression reproachful. “I didn’t, did I?”

“You want points for that?” Cara demanded.

“It would be nice. A little credit. A little consideration. Maybe a scoop or two. I ran into Ariella. I offered her assistance. And I put her safety and the good of my country ahead of my own interests. She was determined to leave D.C. without notice. I thought it was best to give her a fighting chance at successfully doing that.”

Cara found herself nodding in agreement with his words. She knew from personal experience that there’d been no talking Ariella out of her plans. She only hoped she came back soon. A DNA test was in everyone’s best interest.

Lynn’s demeanor changed. “The White House appreciates your efforts,” she told Max.

“I would imagine you do.” He came to his feet. “I’m not the bad guy here. But I do have a job to do.”

As he left the office, Lynn’s phone rang. Cara quickly took the opportunity to jump up and go after him.

“Max?” She hurried down the hall.

He stopped and turned back, and she canted her head toward her own office.

He followed her inside, and she closed the door. Sure, he’d done the right thing. But he wasn’t completely off the hook.

“Where did you run into Ariella?” she fired off.

“Logan Circle.”

“My apartment.”

“Yes.”

“You stalked her.”

He moved toward Cara, making her heart reflexively race and her breath go shallow. It didn’t seem to matter how hard she fought or how much logic she sent through her brain, over and over again. She was compulsively attracted to Max Gray. It seemed to be embedded in her DNA.

“Really?” he demanded. The distance between them was far too small. “That’s what you think? That I was staking out your apartment on the off chance that Ariella would come by?”

Cara admitted the mathematical odds had been low on that happening. She took a step back, bumping against the edge of her desk.

His eyes glittered meaningfully as he moved again, keeping the distance static. “You can’t think of any other reason? None at all?”

“I told you no, Max.”

“I was there for my watch.”

“We both know that was a ruse.”

“Yeah. We do. But you won’t let me play it straight, Cara. I have no other choice.”

“Your choice is to stay away.”

“That’s not working for me.”

There was a shout in the hallway and the sound of two sets of footsteps going swiftly past.

“We can’t do this here,” she told him.

“When and where?”

“Never and nowhere.”

“Wrong answer.”

“It’s the only answer you’re going to get. I have to go to work, Max. In case you missed it in the papers, we’re having a crisis.”

His tone went suddenly soft. “I’m sorry for that. I truly am.”

“But you have a job to do, too,” she finished for him.

“And I better get to it.”

He brushed the backs of his knuckles against hers, sending a spike of awareness ricocheting through her system, squeezing her heart and tightening her abdomen.

Before she could protest, he’d turned and was gone.

Cara made her way around her desk, dropping into her chair. She gave a reflexive glance at her computer screen, knowing that a million things needed her attention, but the email subject lines didn’t compute inside her brain.

Her hand dropped to her stomach and rested there. She was barely pregnant. If not for her ultraregular cycle and modern, supersensitive home pregnancy tests, she wouldn’t even know it yet.