Page 11 of Maximus

“You must have a gift for language.”

“As I said, many have said I’m gifted. If I put my mind to something, I can usually do it, at least with a modicum of success.”

They talked as they ate. Max laughed at her jokes because they were funny, not out of duty. He found himself wishing he’d met Elena elsewhere, but then again, if he had, he wouldn’t have approached her. She liked the person he’d become to take down Abrasha Molchalin, not the man he was. The woman wouldn’t like a computer geek who killed because his sense of justice required him to do it.

They lingered over dessert before he leaned forward. “Do you suppose you’d like to go to dinner with me tomorrow night?”

Elena smiled brightly. “I’d love that.”

“The café where we met?”

“That would be lovely. What time?”

“You’re the one who has set hours. I work when I want and when required. What time would be best for you?” Max countered.

“Seven.”

“Let me meet you, and we can walk to the café. I find I like that local custom.” He put cash down for their dinner.

“I’m at the beginning of the promenade.” She gave him the address of the office, which he knew, but hopefully, he’d be invited inside. He’d have a shot at installing a camera or two if she did.

“Then it’s a date. But I must insist you let me call a car for you tonight. Walking home this late as a single woman isn’t acceptable.”

She shook her head. “I’m only a few blocks over. I’ve walked home much later, and there has never been a problem.”

He frowned. “If you’re positive, but I don’t like it.”

She smiled. “I’ve never had anyone worry about me getting home. It’s an interesting feeling.”

“It’s called respect, and you should demand it.” He got up and helped her out of her chair. After helping her put on her cape, he put on his coat, and they walked out of the restaurant. He stopped, took her hand in his, and bowed to kiss the back of it. He kept his eyes on her face as he did. Her shock was obvious, and then so was the blush. What wasn’t as obvious was the zing of electricity that did a warp-speed lap through his body and crash-landed in his gut. He wanted to shout,holy hell, what the fuck was that, and ask her if she felt it, too. Instead, he smiled and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow night at seven.”

She smiled, slid her hand from his grasp, and turned to walk home. He watched until she reached the corner and looked back. She lifted a hand as she disappeared, and he did the same. Damn it, what was it about the woman that made him feel … what was it? Excited? No … eager. Eager to see her again, talk with her, and hear her laugh. That was an interesting turn of events. Another factor to add to the equation of who was Elena. He glanced at his watch and then headed back to his hotel. He’d have a nice long walk to work through the why’s of the situation.

CHAPTER 6

Elena groaned at the sound of a truck backing into the delivery bay. She glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes before Max would arrive, she had no idea what the delivery consisted of, which meant it was a purchase from her employer.

She carefully secured her office area, opened the rear door, and signed for the delivery. Thankful there was only one wooden crate, she waited while the driver placed the valuable merchandise into the back room. Her client’s most expensive paintings were locked in the building’s vaulted, fireproof areas. She needed to uncrate the item to determine where to store it.

Grabbing the battery-operated drill, she slid the battery pack into the machine, attached the appropriate screwdriver attachment, and started unscrewing the multitude of fasteners holding the front of the crate to the cross-arm-supported, standing base. She worked diligently until the chime from the front door rang, telling her Max was there. She dumped the screws from her hand onto the bench and walked to the front, still carrying the drill. After confirming it was Max, she hit the button, which unlocked the front door, and waited for him toenter the holding area. Once in and the front door locked, she buzzed him into the main office area. “You’re right on time.”

“And you’re still … building?” Max laughed and motioned to the drill in her hand.

“Uncrating a new arrival. I hope you don’t mind, but I need to assess where to secure the painting before I leave for the night.”

“Not at all. May I help?” He took off his suit coat and unfastened his cuff links as he asked.

“I can do it.” She was instantly thrown off by the offer to help.

“I know you can, but why should you when I’m offering.” He held out his hand for the drill, and befuddled, she handed it to him.

“Where is it?” He turned this way and that.

“Through that door. Follow me.” She went through the process of letting them out of the office area into the delivery bay.

“Impressive packing,” Max said and motioned to the characters that adorned the outside of the box.

“Chinese, I think.”

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