"Ladies and gentlemen," Brandy Snopes said, tossing back
her luxurious auburn hair and wetting carmine lips. "I give
you-Carolee Burns!"
Applause broke out and Carolee entered from Brandy's office
at Bistro Brandy on Kirkland's Lake Street. The full skirt
of her black silk dress flipped about her calves. Her bare
shoulders and the decolletage at the neck of the backless
halter top were luminously pale.
Wearing a stretchy strapless dress of turquoise sequins,
Brandy kissed and hugged Carolee, then backed away,
clapping as she went.
Max Wolfe sat at a small round table to the right of the
baby grand piano. To the right and with one table closer
to, but not blocking, the makeshift space where Carolee
performed.
He knew that she and Brandy were old friends--that they'd
known each other since grade school. Max and Brandy had met
more recently--four years ago when they'd had a brief fling
and been lucky enough to realize they weren't meant for
each other but that they liked the friendship.
It was Brandy who let Max know each time Carolee was going
to play at the bistro. He didn't like feeling disappointed
that this would be her last night here for more than a
month.
When she sat down, the black dress swirled around slim
ankles and drew attention to high, very sexy sandals.
She played, and Max sipped a glass of red wine. He didn't
know the names of her pieces, but every one of them turned
him on. A feeling that he wouldn't be anywhere else but
watching her rattled him. Max Wolfe, the man no woman had
managed to tame, had a bad case. Even though he'd been
smitten by someone whose complicated life was public
knowledge, including the fact that she wasn't interested in
a new man, he wasn't finding a way to switch off his
feelings. He lowered his eyes. If his history was
repeating, the challenge she presented could add to her
appeal.
He wasn't looking for a way to stop the feelings.
She looked at him.
Max smiled, just a little, and rolled the bowl of his glass
between his hands.
Carolee seemed to keep looking at him but he couldn't be
sure she actually saw him. When she played her whole body
moved. She wasn't thin and he liked that. He also liked the
way she wore her thick, dark hair rolled away from her face
and caught loosely at the back of her head. Her face was
heart-shaped, her chin pointed. There was nothing typical
about her. She'd been described as interesting but not
conventionally good-looking. Max had spent more than one
solitary evening enjoying visions of her, and wishing he
could figure out how to spend a lot more time looking at
her unconventional face.
"You again, huh?"
Max jumped and glanced up at a white-haired guy who was
probably seventy, even if his light eyes could pierce a
man.
"Have we met, Sir?" Politeness to older males had been an
obsession Max's father passed on.
"No," the man said. "I'm Sam. You expecting company?"
Max shook his head, no, and Sam promptly commandeered the
second chair at the table.
"What d'you think of this place?" Sam asked. "Hokey, huh?
Faux Italian."
Max smiled and glanced around at rough-plastered terra
cotta walls and silk grape vines draped along pink
beams. "I don't know," he said. Bunches of purple plastic
grapes dripped from the vines. "Have you been to Italy?"
"Nah. Why would I go somewhere foreign when I live in the
best country in the world."
"I went there a couple of times," Max said. "I liked it.
Beautiful country. Nice people. This place isn't so far off
some of the ones I ate in there."
Sam snorted. "I guess that puts me in my place. Did you
have dinner yet?"
"Nope."
"You gonna eat?"
"No," Max said. "Just stopping in for a drink. Can I buy
you one? Or are you hungry. Don't let me put you off."
"Just coffee," the man said. "I'm not hungry and I abused
the other privilege a long time ago. Now I don't need it."
Max signaled a waiter and ordered coffee.
"I saw you here before," Sam said. "Several times. You must
be a real music lover." His sharp eyes skewered Max again.
"Depends on the music. I like this. I heard her play in New
York once. She's got a supper club there. Or she did."
"Still does." The guy cleared his throat. "At least, that's
what I'm told."
"Nice place. Burns Near Broadway. Good food. But I've got
to confess I went for her, not the food. She's phenomenal.
I don't guess she gets to New York much now."
Sam shrugged and cleared his throat. "You live around
here?"
"Uh huh. A condo. Here in Kirkland."
"I wish these bozos would quit talking and eating," Sam
said of diners at the bistro.
Max didn't point out that Sam hadn't stopped talking since
he sat down. "They do quiet down while she plays," he
pointed out. "They know they're in on something special. I
keep expecting the word to spread so much it'll be
impossible to get in here, but this is mostly regulars and
Brandy doesn't advertise."
"Carolee wouldn't come if things got out of hand."
Max noted Sam's confidence when he made statements about
Carolee Burns, but made no comment.
She ran her fingers over the keys and those who continued
to eat did so discreetly. Sam's coffee was delivered but he
ignored it. He bent forward over a bright yellow table
cloth, his eyes fixed on the pianist, and Max frowned. For
Sam to have seen him here before meant the other man had
also been present.
"What do you think of her?" Sam leaned close and
whispered. "She's something, huh?"
"Yes, something." Her fingers skimmed across the keyboard
and she sang in a husky voice, a slow, husky voice. Her
eyelids closed and he could see her eyes moving
beneath. "Gutsy, too. I like that."
"I know who you are, y'know," Sam said. "I bet everyone
here does. Must be hard to hide when you're bigger than
anyone else around."
"It might be if I was trying to hide." Max didn't want to
talk about himself. "She shouldn't be shut away in this
backwater. She's a woman who needs to be free and that
doesn't make her a bad wife-ex-wife-or mother. She got a
bum rap."
The unwavering attention that comment brought him wasn't
too comfortable. "You ever been married?" Sam asked.
"No."
"Are you involved?"
"No." Max raised his eyebrows.
"I know, I know," Sam said. "Nosey old bastard, aren't I?
Just wondered. What d'you do now you can't play football
anymore?"
The waiter put a basket of warm bread on the table and Max
tore off a piece. He made a diversion of gathering crumbs
into a small pile. "I own a software company," he said
finally. "And I help out with highschool football for The
Lakes. I'm kind of a visiting motivator who gives
pointers."
"Must have been a helluva shock. The accident. Trapped
under a pickup like that. Then watching your best buddy get
your job had to hurt."
"I'm a grownup. I got over it." More or less. "And Rob Mead
is still the best friend a man could have. He couldn't help
what happened to me." Max didn't want to talk about this
anymore. Avoiding comments on what people liked to call
his "tragedy" could keep him at home for long periods.
"Do you like kids?"
Startled, Max looked at him quizzically. He thought for a
moment. "Yes, I guess I do. I don't think I'd have wanted
to get involved with a high school team if I didn't."
"Ever think about having your own?"
"My own?" Max was having difficulty listening to Carolee
Burns and understanding Sam's oblique questions.
"Your own kids."
He gave that some thought, too. "With the right woman,
sure." Carolee was looking in his direction again and he
smiled, making sure his expression was open and friendly.
She smiled back but he still didn't think she was really
aware of him.
"She's a charmer," Sam said. "Never saw a woman with so
much to offer who had so little confidence in herself."
"Maybe you're right, but I like her just the way she is."
"You do, huh?"
"Well," Max drank more wine and followed it with a bite of
bread. "Well, I don't know her, do I. But I think I'd like
her a lot if I did."
Sam sipped at his coffee and grimaced. "Swill," he
said. "This stuff never saw a coffee bean. Do you ride."
"I'm sorry?" Max set his glass down on top of the wet
circle that had already formed on the cloth.
"Horses." Sam said. "I'm getting a couple out at my place
for when my granddaughter visits. I'm too old to keep up
with exercising 'em."
"I grew up riding on my folks' farm. And if that's an
invitation, thank you. I might take you up on the offer one
of these days."
"That's good." The man's broad grin disconcerted Max.
"Do you know what this piece she's playing is called?" Max
asked to change the subject.
Sam considered, then said, "I Know You In The Dark. Strange
she never wrote any words."
"Do you know if she wrote the music."
"Sure, she wrote it. When she was married to moron, the guy
she was supposed to have taken advantage of. I ask you,
does she look like she could take advantage of anyone?"
Good old Sam knew a great deal about Carolee Burns and Max
intended to find out why. "She looks intense to me, intense
but gentle."
"And she's beautiful if you like a face that's all eyes."
Max grinned. "She is beautiful."
"You must be pretty well fixed," Sam said offhandedly. "All
that money from playing in the pros, and now your own
software company."
"I can pay my bills."
The piece of music Carolee played didn't need any words.
Just knowing the title conjured images of heat and damp
skin that caused Max to ache in places where he enjoyed the
sensation. She was really sexy, he hadn't noticed just how
sexy before. Now and again she ran her tongue over her full
lower lip and she kept her eyes closed almost all the time
she played, only to open them with an vaguely startled
expression, as if she was surprised to discover she wasn't
alone.
He could watch her and imagine she was playing for him,
telling him she'd know him in the dark.
She didn't know it, but they had things in common. The
losses were different, but they had both lost. First her
marriage had failed and her child had been all but taken
from her. Then she'd chosen to walk away from a dynamic
career. She could go back to the career. He didn't have
that choice. He'd been a wide receiver with the Broncos.
Speed and his teammates' confidence in his reliability went
with the job. After the accident he'd brought himself back
to excellent physical shape, but the metal plates in his
legs meant he wouldn't play again. Carolee obviously wasn't
sure exactly what she wanted for the rest of her life.
Neither was he.
He'd just like to talk to her-alone. She might turn out to
be vapid, but he didn't think so, and he couldn't shake the
feeling that they'd have plenty to say to each other.
Sam didn't talk anymore and soon the only sounds in the
restaurant came from the piano and from Carolee singing.
Her mood changed with the mood of each piece but Max
couldn't get that one melody out of his head. I Know You In
The Dark. He wanted to know her in the dark, and in the
sunlight or the rain.
He'd been alone too long. It was time he found a new lady.
Max looked at a clock on the wall. Carolee had been playing
almost forty-five minutes. A crowd hovered inside the front
doors, straining to get a better look at her. He saw her
nervous expression when she turned her head and saw them.
"Uh oh," Sam said, pushing back his chair. "She's about had
enough. Time to get her out of here."
Bodyguard, maybe? Or her driver more likely. Max pushed
back from the table, too. He'd follow at a distance but
make sure they got away safely.
The moment she finished the number she was playing, Carolee
rose from the bench to bow and smile in all directions. The
applause would be loud even in a much larger room. She
walked toward Sam, caught Max's eye, and veered away toward
Brandy's office.
A man reached for her arm as she passed. She sidestepped
him, but without appearing angry.
"Parking lot at the back," Sam muttered. "She's not usually
this edgy. I'd better get her out through the kitchens."
"I'll make sure no one bothers her," Max said, doing what
came naturally and using his height and muscular weight to
wall off a path from the office to the kitchens. "Tell her
she'll be fine and walk her out. These folks think she's
great, that's all."
Sam opened the office door and said something Max couldn't
hear. Grinning and waving, Carolee came out, offered Max a
grateful wink, and hurried into the kitchens.
Just that quickly she was gone.
And just that quickly Max was left with a wonderful picture
of her winking one definitely green eye.
Italian music came from overhead speakers. Chatter and
laughter meant everyone was having a good time and that
they hadn't noticed any awkwardness on Carolee's part.
"Hey, Max," Brandy said, placing her tall, shapely body in
front of him. "She's great. You've got good taste."
"I like listening to her. Thanks for giving me a call and
letting me know she'd be here."
Brandy ran her hands up and down his sides and puckered her
lips at him. "I was watching you. You look lonely to me,
Max. And frustrated, maybe? How about getting together
later-for old time's sake. No expectations, just good
company."
He really did like her. "Not tonight, kid. I'm beat. Can I
have a raincheck?"
"You bet." She pressed her elbows to her sides, showing off
awe-inspiring cleavage. "Just one little kiss, though?"
He dropped a kiss on her brow but when she caught his head
in both of her hands, he gave up and pressed his lips to
hers. Fortunately he'd had enough practice to manage
sliding contact. "That was nice," he said honestly. "We'll
get together soon."
"Oh, yes we will," she said. "Now run along."
He did as he was bid and didn't get a single comment from
the staff when he exited via the kitchens as Carolee and
Sam had.
The lot behind the bistro was small, badly lighted, and
smelled dank. Sudden shrieks from cats of the night
startled him, but Max's luck was holding. He made out
Carolee leaning against the side of a one ton Dodge pickup.
The hood was propped up and he could hear Sam's voice
spitting a venomous tirade from the depths of the engine
compartment.
Max hadn't expected to feel shy if he was ever more or less
alone with Carolee, but he did. Still he pushed himself to
amble toward the Dodge and call, "Hi, Sam. It's Max. You
having some trouble?"
Sam's head emerged and he wiped his brow on his
sleeve. "Nothing but trouble. Never has been."
"It's been perfectly fine for fourteen years," Carolee
said. "It's tired and neglected is all. Time you traded it
in."
"No way." Sam used a wrench like a baton. He made a
growling sound and said, "Carolee Burns, meet Max Wolfe.
You youngsters are to blame for all this planned
obsolescence. If something breaks down, you want to throw
it away and buy new. If I didn't have a bit of arthritis, I
could keep this thing going until we get home. It starts,
but it's touchy. If you could drive it, girl--"
"But I can't drive a stick shift. We both know that. I'll
take some lessons."
"That's not going to help us now."
Max tossed around the possibilities before saying, "I could
drive you in my car, then come back and get you in the
morning so you could deal with the Dodge."
"I'm not leaving my truck here," Sam said, all
sharpness. "You might not get it, but there are a lot of
young whippersnappers just dying to get their hands on
something like this. If they couldn't steal it, they'd
strip it. I'd better get help."
"I could drive it for you," Max said and shook his head
slightly. What was he thinking of, getting involved here?
Carolee spoke at last. "Then you'd be marooned without
wheels."
"He could drive your car back," Sam said quickly. "We'd
come into Kirkland for it in the morning. Max lives up the
street here in a condo."
"I see." Clearly she didn't see, but she wasn't sure how to
argue what Sam seemed so sure of.
"You two could drive out in my car while I drive this," Max
said. "That would solve everything."
"What do you drive?" Sam asked.
"A Cadillac," he said and laughed uncomfortably. "One of
the drawbacks of having mostly metal legs is that it's more
comfortable to stretch them out."
"We're not driving your Cadillac," Sam said. "No way. Might
do something to it. No, if you'd be kind enough to drive us
back, you can use Carolee's wheels for tonight."
Max wanted to ask how Sam intended to get anywhere tomorrow
if he didn't have a vehicle. He kept his mouth shut
instead. The time always came to give in gracefully.
Carolee went to the driver's side of the truck and Max
handed her up. Promptly she slid to the middle of the bench
seat and angled her legs to the passenger side of the cab.
Sam got in beside her and slammed his door.
Max took a cleansing breath through his nose and climbed
behind the wheel. "Here we go," he said and turned the key
in the ignition. The engine turned over immediately and
smoothly, but he treated the gas and clutch gently just in
case.
"I'll bring you home," Carolee said. "Then you'll be put
out as little as possible."
He shouldn't be so pleased at the idea of spending more
time with her--alone.
Beside him, close enough for their arms to touch, Carolee
sat quite still. He wore a gray silk shirt and darker gray
pants. It was impossible to ignore the warm feel of her
when he turned the wheel. Each time he shifted, his hand
brushed her thigh. When he glanced down, he saw that her
skirts were hiked above her knees. The sight of her long,
well-shaped legs tightened his belly.
"You and Sam seem to know each other," she said to him. "Do
you fish?"
Questions, questions. "Not often."
"Play golf?"
"Occasionally."
"We met watching you," Sam said, evidently unnerved by the
third degree. "He's Max Wolfe the pro-football player."
"Ex-football player. Don't forget to give me directions."
"Turn left on Central Avenue," Carolee said promptly. "Then
take a right on Market Street."
Kirkland was crowded. Cruising cars jammed the narrow
streets. Groups on the sidewalks hollered responses to
blaring horns. Some danced to music blasting from clubs,
and from vehicles with rolled down windows. Warm weather
had brought out halter tops and shorts. In-line skaters
dodged among walkers, skateboarders, cyclists and runners.
Sam's truck didn't have air-conditioning. "Don't need it
around here," he'd said and Max had been glad it was
Carolee who responded, "You're the only one who thinks so."
But tonight Max enjoyed feeling the town's energy, and
smelling flowers in overflowing hanging baskets. He liked
Kirkland a lot.
"Son of a . . . Will you look at this place?" Sam
said. "Damn carnival. They think they own the roads. Look
at that. No signal. Geez, move it, will ya? Honk, Max. We
should be halfway to Juanita by now."
Carolee's sudden laugh made Max grin and look sideways at
her. She gave him a conspiratorial smile that wrinkled her
nose and Max felt almost as if she'd put her arms around
him. Intimate, that's how her smile felt.