A Conflict of Interest (6 page)

The boy nodded, looking both embarrassed and upset.

Moving a few feet to the top of the slope, Max strapped his boots to his board while Jake secured his free foot. This was really none of their concern. But it wasn’t like they could leave the poor kid to his own devices.

“What’s your name?” Max asked the kid.

“Ethan.”

“Well, Ethan.” Max snapped his goggles into place and did a quick check to make sure Ethan was all set to go. “I guess you’d better ride down with us.”

The boy brightened.

“I’m Max, and this is Jake. I’m sure we can find your friends at the bottom.”

As they headed down the run, it quickly became obvious that Ethan’s enthusiasm outstripped his skills.

Max slowed his pace, pulling behind the kid, cringing at his sloppy technique and his wobbling balance. Ethan gamely tried to take a few, small jumps, but he took fall after fall on the landings.

Finally, Max couldn’t stand it any longer. He pulled up beside him and helped him to his feet.

“Bend your knees,” Max instructed. “Go back on your heels,” he demonstrated. “But don’t overbalance the landing. Here, hold out your arms, like this.”

To his credit, Ethan watched carefully. He bit his lower lip and nodded in obvious determination.

“You want to watch me do it once?” asked Max.

“Yeah. That would be good.”

“Okay.” Max pointed to a small mound downhill from them. “That one.”

He took it slow and easy, jumping just enough to get some air, exaggerating his balancing movements on the other side.

Ethan took a turn. Surprisingly, he kept his feet on the landing. He grinned at the accomplishment, punching a celebratory fist in the air.

Max chose another small one, and Ethan followed.

It was the longest run of his life, but when they came to a rest point midway, Ethan took the most impressive jump so far, getting a fair degree of air, then landing it and keeping upright.

Max found himself shouting in celebration, while Ethan sprayed up a small rooster tail of snow and grinned ear to ear.

The sound of cheering erupted beside them, and Max turned to see a group of six boys calling congratulations to Ethan.

“Nice ollie!” shouted one.

“Bangin’,” called another.

“How’d you get so rad in the last hour?” asked a third, coming closer.

Head up, shoulders square, Ethan jerked his thumb in Max’s direction. “This guy knows how to rip.”

One of the boys peered up at him. “Aren’t you that Max something? The crocodile-wrestling guy on TV?”

The group’s interest swung to Max.

“That’s me,” Max admitted. He pulled off his glove to shake the boys’ hands. “Max Gray.”

“Awesome,” someone whispered.

One of the boys elbowed Ethan. “Ethan, how d’you know Max Gray?”

Ethan suddenly seemed a little starstruck.

“We met up top,” Max offered into the silence. “Took a ride down together.”

Ethan seemed to find his voice. “Can you show us something else?”

Max glanced at Jake, who was clearly struggling not to laugh at his predicament.

“Sure,” Max agreed fatalistically. Part of his job was being nice to the viewers. Though the viewers were generally quite a bit older than these.

He made his way down the rest of the mountain, stopping and starting, seven young boys in tow, each struggling to execute his instructions. He had to admit, it wasn’t all bad. The kids were friendly and polite, and most of them made some improvement in the course of the run.

At the end, they met up with the broader jamboree group. Someone produced a marking pen, and he signed all the boy’s helmets. Jake, of course, got footage of the whole thing. Max knew he was never going to hear the end of this.

* * *

“I heard some of the kids talking about him this morning in the lobby,” Gillian said as she and Cara made their way along the shoveled sidewalk. It was shortly after noon, and they were checking out the restaurants along the street. “Said he taught them to snowboard yesterday. It was total hero worship.”

“Are you sure it was kids?”

“Yes. I can tell the difference between ten-year-olds and twenty-year-olds. He signed their helmets. I don’t see how he can hate kids that much.”

“That doesn’t sound like Max,” Cara ventured.

“Maybe you’re wrong about him,” said Gillian.

“He told me himself that he didn’t like children,” Cara pointed out. There wasn’t any ambiguity in Max’s opinion about having a family. If he was teaching them to snowboard, it must have been under duress.

Gillian stopped in her tracks and pointed to the door of the Big Sky Restaurant. “Here?”

The upscale family restaurant advertised gourmet burgers, and Cara was starving. “Looks fine to me.”

They entered to find it warm inside, with a big stone fireplace at one end and cushioned leather seats at generous-size tables. Gillian chose a half-round booth and slid inside. Each of them snagged a menu.

“It must be the mountain air,” said Cara.

Gillian grinned at her.

“Hey, you’re hungry, too,” Cara pointed out.

“Not as hungry as you.”

Cara didn’t argue the point. Instead her interest was snagged by pictures of burgers and fries.

“You’ll have a whole new fan base after tonight,” said a familiar voice next to their table.

Cara glanced up to meet Jake’s surprised eyes.

“Cara,” he greeted her with a smile. Then he looked at Gillian and his smile widened further. “And...
friend.
Do you ladies mind if we join you?”

“Please do,” Gillian answered before Cara could find her voice.

“Hello, Cara.” Max gave her a slight nod.

“New fan base?” asked Gillian as Jake took up the seat beside her.

“Young snowboard enthusiasts,” Jake answered, holding his hand out to Gillian. “Jake Dobson, Max’s cameraman.”

“Gillian Cranshaw. Cara’s sister.”

“Not hard to guess you’re related,” said Jake, glancing from one woman to the other.

Max seemed to take his seat next to Cara rather reluctantly. “You sure you don’t mind?” he asked.

“No problem.” She could do this. She’d force herself to do this, coolly, casually, unemotionally.

They were both in Fields. It was a small town. For the next few days, she’d have to cope with running into Max. It was probably good practice.

She turned her attention back to the menu. “I think I’ll have a milk shake,” she mused, her sweet craving still out in full force. “Chocolate.”

“Cara always did go wild at lunchtime.” Gillian laughed.

“What about you?” Jake asked Gillian. “You ever get wild?” His intimate tone drew Cara’s attention. Appreciation of Gillian’s beauty was clear in his eyes.

Cara had seen that look from men a hundred times. Although she and Gillian looked very much alike, Gillian had always had a glamorous streak, a little more makeup, a little heavier on the jewelry, professional highlights in her hair, designer clothes and an eye for accessorizing that Cara admired.

Gillian rolled her eyes at Jake’s interest, then she deftly shifted her attention to Max. “Nice to see you again, Max. The kids were all talking about you in the lobby this morning.”

“No good deed goes unpunished,” Max drawled.

“Did something happen?” asked Cara, glancing from man to man.

“Montana isn’t the strongest market for
After Dark,
” Jake explained. “Max was hoping to stay a little bit under the radar.”

“Not that you’re helping me any,” Max pointed out to Jake.

“I got some good footage yesterday. There’s a chance editing can turn it into a sweet human interest story.” Jake closed his menu. “It’s not like we’re getting anything on the president.”

Cara looked at Max, curiosity piqued. “You don’t say?”

“Don’t give away our information,” Max admonished Jake.

“Not blowing the case wide open?” Cara pressed Max.

“Too busy teaching small children to snowboard,” he replied laconically as he perused the sandwich section of the menu. “And you?”

“Haven’t been teaching anything to small children.” She felt her arm drop reflexively to her lap.

Then Gillian smiled innocently over her menu at Max. “Do you have any children of your own?” she asked.

Cara nearly choked. Had her sister lost her mind?

Jake coughed out a hearty laugh. “Not Max. At least, none that he knows about.”

Cara felt light-headed for a moment.

“No children,” Max told Gillian in a firm voice. “You?”

“No children,” Gillian responded. “No husband. No boyfriend.”

“Really?”
Jake angled his body toward her.

“Down, boy,” Gillian put in, dropping her gaze to the open menu. “I think I’ll go with a strawberry shake.”

“I’m recently single myself,” Jake told her smoothly.

“Quit hitting on Cara’s sister,” said Max.

“It’s fine,” Gillian assured Max with an impish smile that said she dealt with it all the time. Cara knew she did.

“You think this is hitting on her?” Jake asked in a mock-wounded tone. “Clearly, you’ve never seen me in action.”

“I’ve seen you in action on six continents,” Max replied. “I like Cara, and I don’t want you messing with her family.”

Gillian’s gaze met Cara’s.
He likes you,
was her silent message.
Makes no difference,
was Cara’s message back. She and Max were headed in completely different directions in life. They were already in opposing worlds, and no amount of liking each other was going to change that.

Five

T
hey’d had to cut their lunch short. News that Max was in town had spread around Fields, and the level of attention on him continued to grow. Cara could tell that it frustrated him. And after the tenth polite but intrusive autograph request, they took their meals to go.

“We should head up to one of the hotel rooms,” Jake suggested as they converged on the sidewalk.

“I’m in a closet,” Cara responded. “The press office can’t be extravagant with the taxpayers’ money.”

“I’ve got this suite thing on the top floor,” said Gillian. “I take it we’re hiding out?”

“I don’t think I’m going to get any peace.” Max frowned. “But the rest of you can do whatever you want.” He looked a cross between brave and pathetic.

Cara shook her head. “Are you trying to be a martyr?”

“How’m I doing?”

“Poorly,” said Cara.

“We’re not going to abandon you,” Gillian put in staunchly.

Cara wished her sister hadn’t said that. Hanging out with Max seemed to send her on an emotional roller-coaster.

“Let’s go to Max’s villa,” Jake suggested. “It’s bigger than mine, and it’s the highest one on the hillside. The place has a killer view, and if you want to wear off the milk shake, there’s a path that leads to the hot springs.”

“More like a goat track,” Max put in. “Going down’s not bad, but on the way up I kept wishing we had ropes and crampons.”

“Works for me,” Gillian said brightly.

Cara shot a sidelong glance at her sister. She sure hoped Gillian wasn’t trying to throw Cara and Max together in the hopes that something sparked between them. If she was, the plan would definitely fail.

The men’s SUV was closest, parked over in the hospital parking lot. Since it was starting to snow, and the road to the villas was slippery and steep, they all piled into the four-wheel-drive with Max at the wheel. The snow grew heavier as they approached the first of the villas. The local radio station was predicting six inches of new powder up in the peaks.

“I’m definitely taking a few runs tomorrow,” said Jake from the backseat.

“As long as we can do it alone,” Max put in. Then he glanced at Cara, who was sitting in the front passenger seat watching the big snowflakes splatter against the windshield. “I don’t think I’m giving away any deep secrets if I tell you we’re getting squat from our interviews.”

“The most interesting footage I’ve taken this week was Max’s snowboard lessons,” said Jake. “Everything else was a waste of time and effort.”

“What’s not working for you?” Cara asked Max. From her perspective, things were terrific. She hadn’t unearthed any time bombs that would hurt the president.

“Nice people saying nice things about what a nice boy the president was as a teenager doesn’t exactly make for riveting television.”

“Just as I suspected.” Cara couldn’t keep the smug satisfaction from her voice. “You’re going after the salacious story. You’d love it if you unearthed a scandal. No matter how detrimental to the country’s governance or who you hurt.”

The tires slid out beneath them, and Max wrestled the steering wheel to bring the vehicle back under control. “That’s hardly fair.”

“You want ratings, Max.” It was no secret how the news media worked.

“My producer wants ratings,” Max responded. “I want to know about Eleanor Albert.”

“For the pure pursuit of knowledge, I’m sure.”

“Well, I’m sure not going to cover anything up.”

Oh, those were fighting words to Cara. “Are you implying that I will?”

The SUV automatically shifted to a lower gear, jerking everyone back in their seats.

“I’m implying that your loyalty is to the president.” His gaze locked with hers.

“You’re right about that.” Her jaw tensed. Spending time with Max was an even worse idea than she’d imagined. “You should take us back to the hotel.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“The burgers are already cold, and the milk shakes are already warm. And we’re here.” He skidded into a driveway and ratcheted the SUV into park.

“Maybe we could call a truce?” Gillian suggested from the backseat.

“The man’s impossible,” Cara ground out.

“He’s just doing his job,” Gillian responded.

Cara flashed her sister an annoyed glare. How dare she be on Max’s side? She opened her mouth to argue, but she stopped herself.

She didn’t need to get petty to make her point. Max was doing his job. And Cara was doing hers. The conflict between them wasn’t going to be resolved, and Gillian was going to figure that out very quickly.

“Fine,” she agreed. “Truce.”

Max didn’t answer. But he did exit the vehicle, grabbing the bag of burgers.

Gillian came up beside her as they took the fieldstone staircase to the front door of the villa. “Are you trying to create a self-fulfilling prophecy?” she hissed in Cara’s ear.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know how you get. He’s a perfectly decent guy.”

“He’s a reporter who hates children.”

“Right. I’m surprised he didn’t throw those boys down the mountain, instead of, you know—”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it. He was nice to them, even though he didn’t like them.”

“I’m just saying, pay it forward for those young boys, be nice to their hero while he eats his burger. Can you do that?”

Cara could do that. She would do that. She was a professional. Then Gillian’s other words echoed in her mind. “What do you mean ‘how I get’?”

But Gillian skipped the last couple of steps to enter the villa. Max held the door, standing to one side, as Cara followed her sister inside.

The place was magnificent. Perched on the steep hillside, it had floor-to-ceiling windows across a two-story living and dining area. An archway at one end of the massive room led to a kitchen. On the opposite side of the foyer, was a large ski storage room, where they all hung their coats. A staircase led to an open second-floor hallway, which Cara presumed gave access to the bedroom. And beneath the bedroom, behind the living area, was a media room and a library.

“You can’t see it through the falling snow,” said Jake, “but the town is down there.” He pointed. “And the lake is off to the south. You can see the highway winding away into the mountains. And if you go out on the balcony—”

“Pass,” Gillian put in.

Jake smiled at her. “From the balcony, if you look north, you can see the lights from the ski runs at night.”

“Clearly not the taxpayers’ money,” Cara muttered under her breath.

“I heard that,” said Max, as Jake and Gillian moved off on an impromptu tour.

“Sorry,” Cara responded, realizing Gillian was right. She was definitely being pricklier than usual.

“Let’s eat,” he suggested dryly, making his way to a dining table for eight.

“How many bedrooms?” Cara asked, forcing herself to be pleasant. She followed him and took up a chair facing the window.

She could easily imagine the view Jake had described. Though right now, it was turning into a wall of white. She’d been told about the sudden storms in the mountains and how they disappeared just as quickly as they came up, leaving miles and miles of champagne powder on the slopes.

“Just the one,” said Max. “The villas are adults only. I think they cater to honeymoon couples and romantic weekends. Jake moved us up here when we discovered the jamboree down at the hotel.”

“It must be nice and quiet.”

“Very quiet.” Max smiled. “And very nice.”

Cara wanted to protest that kids weren’t all bad. But instead she peeled the foil from her cheeseburger.

Max took a large bite of his and chewed. Then he wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “Man, that’s good.”

Cara tasted her own burger and nodded in agreement. Lukewarm or not, the burger was delicious. She followed it up with a sip of her melting chocolate shake, and her stomach rumbled softly in appreciation.

If Max heard, he didn’t comment. “Are you heading back to D.C. soon?” he asked.

“Likely tomorrow,” she answered between bites.

“Same here. I don’t think the story’s in Fields, and we need to start prep work for South America.”

“South America?” Cara prompted, popping a couple of cool fries in her mouth.

“We’re going up into the Andes, looking at the impact of global mineral prices on exploration and on indigenous people.” Max’s jade-green eyes grew more intense as he spoke. “I’m particularly interested in the influence of China on local governments, labor standards and immigration.”

She was struck, as she often was, by the depth of his understanding of his stories. He truly was a committed and ethical journalist. She felt guilty all over again for some of the accusations she’d tossed his way. “You’re a very smart man, aren’t you?”

“What I lack in intellect, I make up for in curiosity. I love a puzzle.”

Cara didn’t think Max was lacking anything in intelligence. She was beginning to agree with her sister. Her baby might have hit the genetic jackpot by having Max for a father.

“What about the president’s paternity mystery?” she asked. “Does it make you curious?”

To her surprise, Max gave a careless shrug. He took a drink of his milk shake before answering. “Not really. Ariella’s either his daughter or she’s not. He either knew about it or he didn’t. Neither case is going to fundamentally shift national policy in any way. And, honestly, I don’t think Ariella’s the story.”

That statement surprised Cara. It worried her as well. “What is the story?” she couldn’t help asking.

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

She knew that. Of course she knew that. Their entire relationship had centered around avoiding conflicts of interest. As a journalist, Max wasn’t permitted to share his story angles with the White House press office.

She set down her burger, wiping her fingertips on the paper napkin. “I’m sorry I asked.”

“It never hurts to ask.”

“Yes, it does. It hurts to ask a question that puts someone else in an awkward position.” She’d insisted he not do that with her, and now she was breaking her own rule.

“I’m a big boy, Cara.” His expression went soft. “You don’t scare me.”

“You scare me plenty,” she offered honestly.

“Okay, I can tell you this much.”

“No, don’t.” She dramatically put her hands over her ears.

Jake’s voice drawled as he and Gillian entered the room. “What is the man saying to you now?”

“Nothing,” Cara quickly put in, removing her hands from her ears. “We were just joking around.”

“You two?” Jake raised a brow. “I find that hard to believe.” Then he glanced at the burgers and shakes. “Okay, this is sad.”

“They’re not bad,” said Max, finishing his last bite.

“This from a man who once ate chocolate-covered ants.” Jake looked to Gillian. “Believe me, you do not want to trust his opinion on cuisine.”

“It was pretty good,” said Cara, backing up her claim by polishing off the last bite of her own burger.

But Gillian frowned at the paper bag and cardboard cups. “Think I’ll pass.”

“Let’s go grab something fresh,” Jake suggested to her.

Cara started to protest, but her sister was nodding at Jake in agreement.

“We’ll just be a few minutes,” Jake promised, moving swiftly to the storage room, retrieving Gillian’s coat and holding it out for her.

“What about the storm?” Cara tried, pointing out the window. Her next move was going to be to offer to go with them.

“It’s letting up,” said Gillian, allowing Jake to help her with her puffy white coat.

“We’ve got four-wheel drive,” said Jake.

Gillian spoke directly to Cara. “You can stay here and play nice with Max.”

Cara returned her sister’s mischief with a glare. Gillian’s not-so-secret plan was never going to work. No matter how nice Cara was to Max, he wasn’t going to have an epiphany and realize he’d wanted to be a family man all along.

She started to rise. “I don’t mind coming along for—”

“Not necessary,” Jake put in. “Put up your feet. Finish your milk shake. The view’s going to be spectacular in about fifteen minutes. We’ll be back before you know it.”

With that, they were out the door, leaving silence behind them.

“Do you think they wanted to be alone?” Max drawled.

Cara turned to him. “Huh?”

“It was pretty obvious.”

That hadn’t been Cara’s read of the situation at all. She watched the black SUV back out of the driveway and head downhill. “You think?”

“Short of a neon sign, I don’t think they could have made it any plainer.”

No. Cara was pretty sure this was Gillian’s not-so-subtle way of giving her some time alone with Max in the ridiculous and romantic hope that something would come of it.

“Sorry you got stuck with me,” Max offered, watching her expression closely.

“I’m not stuck with—”

Okay, so she was stuck with Max. He definitely wasn’t her first choice for a companion this afternoon. And it occurred to her that Jake and Gillian had left with the only vehicle. There was no escaping the villa until they returned. Good thing they were coming right back.

“Tell me more about South America.” She forced herself to sit back in her chair and take the situation in stride.

Max’s phone beeped, signaling that he had a text. He glanced at the screen.

“It’s Jake.”

“Already?”

“He wants us to turn on the local NCN news affiliate. It’s five o’clock in D.C., and he wants to see if they run the snowboarding story.”

“You don’t look too happy about that,” Cara observed.

“I don’t like fluff.”

“I thought it was the kids you didn’t like.” The words jumped out before she thought them through.

“Those, too,” Max agreed.

Cara knew she needed to stop probing like that. Every time she asked a question about kids, he answered it honestly, and she felt even more depressed about her future.

While he located the TV remote control, Cara polished off the last of her fries and finished the milk shake. Normally, a burger and fries would have left her feeling stuffed. But she was still a little hungry. If this was the pregnancy affecting her, she’d have to be careful for the next nine months. It was embarrassing, but Gillian’s abandoned burger was starting to look good.