Page 1 of Second to None
Chapter 1
The door to Max Varela’s office banged open just as he was swallowing two painkillers to combat the headache that had his temples clamped in a vise.
A dark haired woman in a white blouse and navy-blue skirt strode halfway into the room and stopped, her hands twisted together at her waist. “Max! Hello! You must wonder what I’m doing in your office after seven years, but I—”
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Varela.” His assistant, Pauline, followed right on the woman’s heels. “She says you’re a personal friend.”
Recognition—and another reaction he tried to shove aside—slammed into him. “Emily Wade. In New York City.”
She used to wear her hair in a thick braid that had made his fingers itch to unravel it, but now the gleaming waves flowed over her shoulders. He felt the pull of her low in his body ... and hated himself for it.
He made a deliberate effort to rise slowly. “It’s all right, Pauline.”
“I’ll let you know when your next appointment arrives.” His assistant walked out, closing the door behind her with a snap.
His gaze lingered on Emily’s full mouth with the corners that tilted upward as though she was always on the verge of smiling.
When she gave him a nervous look, he realized he was staring. Compelling himself into motion, he came around the desk and held out his hand. “I’m happy to see you,” he said, flinching inwardly as her slim fingers touched his and sent heat rushing over his skin. “Let’s sit down.” He walked toward a plush sofa and chairs placed by the huge arched window that framed a view of the skyscrapers of midtown Manhattan.
Emily perched on the edge of one of the chairs and smoothed her skirt over her knees before knotting her hands together again. For a woman who had the determination to get past the formidable Pauline, she seemed surprisingly uncertain of herself.
He sat on the sofa and stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankles in an attempt to appear unaffected by her presence. He couldn’t begin to imagine what had brought her to his office. The last time he’d seen her had been at Camp Lejeune in North Carolina seven years before. With her husband, Captain Jake Wade.
“I didn’t know Jake was stationed in New York now,” Max said. “How is he doing?”
She looked down at her hands and then back at him. “He’s dead. Three years ago. Killed in the line of duty. They couldn’t even tell me where, because the mission was so secret.”
Pain slashed through him at the news. The military had hired Max as a civilian consultant after they heard about the superhard but flexible polymer he’d created for his PhD thesis. He and Jake had worked together on the Marine base for about six months, using his polymer to develop lighter, stronger body armor. Max worked on the science of the armor while Jake made sure it was practical for a soldier to use in the field.
Their relationship had begun with a respect for each other’s abilities before it surprised Max by growing into a deep and easy friendship. Which was something Max valued, because he’d known very few people he could call friends.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. He felt guilty, too, that he hadn’t kept in touch with Jake after the project was completed and Max moved to New York. But it had been necessary to cut both Wades out of his life in light of his unacceptable feelings for Jake’s wife. He didn’t want either one of them to ever know his guilty secret. “He was one of the best men I’ve ever had the privilege to know. A true hero.”
While Max had been running experiments as a graduate student in the laboratory at MIT, Jake had been in the thick of fighting for his country. Jake had never spoken of his missions, but his men had shared stories of their commander’s bravery with Max. They would all follow Jake into hell if he asked them to, because they had total faith that he would bring them out again.
“Yes.” She looked down at her hands again. “They awarded him a whole pile of medals posthumously, which means that he saved others at the cost of his own life.” When she raised her head, her expression was composed. “I’m glad you remember him as a brave and honorable man.”
He nodded. “My deepest sympathy to you and to your daughter.” He pictured the two-year-old child who had often been balanced on Emily’s hip as she welcomed him into their home for one of the many dinners Jake had invited him to join. Emily had always greeted Max with a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek. After a while, he had found ways to avoid her greeting, because just the innocent brush of her soft lips would give him a hard-on. Which made him feel like the lowest variety of pond scum.
Emily nodded and then took a deep breath. “I know you have an important meeting soon, so I’ll be brief. I’ve come because I need your help.”
*
It was difficult to gather her thoughts with Max’s dark gaze boring into her. He’d shaved off the grad student’s beard he’d sported seven years before. His uncovered jawline was sharp, his chin decisive. And his mouth was ... something she’d rather not think about.
He’d always had the ability to unsettle her, but it had evidently intensified over the intervening years. Of course, he’d gone from being a newly minted PhD to the incredibly successful CEO of V-Chem Industries. He wore power and wealth with the same ease that he wore his dark gray suit and silver tie.
If that wasn’t enough to intimidate her, the size of his office was. Vast stretches of thick carpeting separated a huge sleek desk loaded with computer monitors from a conference table that seated eight and from the conversation area where she now sat, holding on to her precarious courage with both hands.
But approaching Max was her last hope for the children and the dogs, so she needed to focus.
She straightened her spine, the way Jake would when he came to attention. “I’m the director of the Carver Center, which is an after-school program for disadvantaged kids, ages eight through thirteen, in South Harlem. We have an idea for adding an extra dimension of responsibility and love to their lives, and we applied to your Catalyst Foundation for the money to fund it. However, the application was turned down, and we don’t have time to apply elsewhere, so I was hoping I could persuade you to reconsider.” She sent him a pleading look. “Quickly.”
The dark arcs of his eyebrows rose in surprise. “I don’t handle the grants from Catalyst. All decisions on funding are made by Shelby Laird.”
Emily flinched inwardly because she knew that—all too well. She’d been called in for an interview with the tall, skinny Ms. Laird of the pale hair and eyes, who had looked down her nose in a way that made Emily feel like a frumpy worm with pretensions. The woman had dismissed Emily’s idea as impractical and a waste of Catalyst’s money. But Emily knew it would make a huge difference in the kids’ lives.
“I’ve spoken with Ms. Laird already,” Emily said, her heart sinking. Max probably wouldn’t want to overrule his foundation manager.
