LITMIR.BIZ

      Chapter Three

      “I don’t know, Philip,” Gertie said as she discarded the king of hearts. “If Sidney finds out what you’re up to, she’ll strangle you.”

      Philip Grant picked up the king and added it to his hand. “She’ll never suspect. Besides, Max needs her.” He discarded the three of spades.

      Sam Mitchell, Max’s groundskeeper, pulled a card from the draw stack. “That’s for sure. Last month, I was scared to death he was going to give in and marry the Barlow woman—” He snapped his fingers. “What’s her name?”

      “Constance,” Elena Garcia, who kept the exotic plants blooming in Max’s greenhouse, said with disdain.

      “Yeah.” Sam nodded. “Constance—as in constantly annoying. She’s taken on becoming the answer to ‘Who Gets To Marry Max?’ as a personal project.” He tapped his blunt fingers on his fanned cards. “Can you imagine life with her running Max’s house?”

      Elena clucked her tongue. “I tell you one thing, if he brings home that Barlow woman, I’m going to quit.”

      Gertie grunted. “You’re not the only one. The minute he hints there might be a wedding, I’m giving him my resignation.”

      “You, and all the rest of us,” Sam agreed, tossing the five of hearts onto the discard pile. “Except maybe Philip. What would it take to make you leave Max, Philip?”

      “I don’t know,” he said blandly. “Are you going to take that card, Elena?”

      Elena gave him a dry look. “Don’t think you’re going to distract me. You may think you’re going to force Max and Sidney together, but what will you do if your plan backfires? Greg Loden isn’t exactly oblivious to Sidney’s obvious charms, you know?”

      Sam nodded. “That’s true. And with Max breathing down his brother’s neck about an engagement to Miss Fitzwater, I suspect Greg’ll be looking for some diversion this weekend.”

      “He won’t find it with Sidney,” Philip assured them. “I’ve already told her what Max is expecting from Greg. She’ll see that it happens.”

      “He’s a charmer, that one,” Gertie mused. “I’ve seen him turn heads before.”

      “Not Sidney’s. She’s immune to him.”

      “But not to Max,” Elena prompted.

      Philip shook his head. “Sidney and Max—” he searched for the right word “—communicate.” He glanced at Elena. “If you’re not going to take that card, I am.”

      She clucked her tongue as she reached for the card. “You can’t expect to win every game, Philip.”

      While she studied her hand, Philip decided not to ask what she meant by that. Instead, he wondered how Max and Sidney were faring at the estate. He’d seen Max grow from a lonely young boy, who gracefully bore the pressures of the world on his shoulders, to an even lonelier man whose friends and family expected him to solve all their problems. Isolated in a tower of emotional distance, Max Loden was in serious danger of losing his heart. To hear some tell it, he was already past saving. Philip didn’t believe it.

      Elena dropped a card onto the discard pile. Gertie reached for it. “No matter what you say, Philip, if Sidney finds out you’re not really sick, she’ll kill you for this.”

      Philip suppressed a smile. Long ago, he’d given up trying to understand the strange connection between his niece and his employer. But of one thing he was certain: Max needed rescuing. Always the savior, always the one his family relied on in a crisis, always the hero, Max had learned to depend on no one—for support, for help, or even for love. While Sidney, his brave, talented, headstrong niece, had learned to keep the world at arm’s length. Hurt one time too many, Sidney allowed no one to penetrate her inner world.

      As Gertie studied her cards, Philip considered the niece he loved like a daughter, and the employer he considered a close friend. Only Philip had breached their collective defenses. And while he didn’t begin to understand why he’d been blessed with such a role, he took the responsibility seriously. They needed each other. And since the two of them were too thickheaded to know it, he had no choice but to take matters into his own hands.

      Gertie discarded the jack of diamonds. Philip picked it up with a feeling of satisfaction. Eventually, he reasoned, Max and Sidney would understand that he was acting in their best interest and forgive him for meddling. He discarded, then set his cards down on the table. “Gin.”

      Sam grumbled as he began tabulating the score. “One day, I’m going to figure out how you manage to cheat.”

      Elena dropped her cards to the table with a sigh of disgust. “He marks the cards. He has to. Nobody has his luck.”

      As Philip piled the cards into a neat stack, the phone rang. Gertie frowned as she reached for the receiver. “Well, let’s hope his luck is holding. Sidney already called once this morning. I hope she’s not suspicious.”

      “She’s not,” Philip assured her.

      “Hello?” Gertie answered the phone. Philip carefully watched her expression change from polite inquiry to unabashed delight. She covered the receiver with her hand. “It’s Mary Beth,” she said, identifying the young woman who’d called last night with news of Max’s third-floor rendezvous with Sidney. “She says Max is teaching Bailey how to dive this morning.”

      Philip lifted an eyebrow—an affectation he’d passed on to his employer. “There’s nothing unusual about that. Max is very fond of his niece.”

      Gertie asked Mary Beth a few more questions, then hung up. “Nothing unusual,” she told the small group, satisfaction evident in her tone, “except that Sidney is watching, and Max is watching her watch him.”

      SIDNEY WAS still questioning her sanity as she methodically made her way around Max’s pool, discreetly checking on his guests. Drinks were filled, towels replaced. At a waved command to one of her staff, an ashtray materialized near the elbow of Raymond Lort. Momentarily satisfied, she continued to scan the scene, looking for flaws and, more consciously, trying to ignore the way Max looked sitting on the edge of the pool, patiently teaching one of his nieces how to dive.

      She still wasn’t sure what had possessed her to agree to stay at the estate for the weekend. She should have known what prolonged exposure to the man was going to do to her. She’d slept poorly last night, and, as much as she’d like to believe her restless slumber owed itself to the strange bed, she knew better. She’d been consumed with thoughts of the way Max had looked at her when he’d delivered that final announcement in his office. “I’m counting on it,” he’d said, and her stomach had started dancing the Macarena.

      The odd feeling had continued through the evening’s festivities, and left her feeling unsettled when Greg Loden had cornered her near a secluded area of the terrace.

      “Sidney,” he’d said, his voice a little too controlled. “How are you?”

      She had searched his expression for signs of inebriation, but other than unnaturally bright eyes, he seemed in control. “I’m fine, Mr. Loden. How are you?”

      With his elegantly casual shrug, the one she’d long ago summed up as his philosophy on life, he’d explained that Max was annoyed that he’d continued to drag his feet on his engagement to Lauren Fitzwater. “You know Max,” Greg had told her, “he thinks what’s good for business is good for the family.”

      Sidney frowned. “You don’t think your brother is pushing you simply because he wants the business merger with Fitzwater, do you?”

      “No. He’s pushing me because he thinks Lauren can have a positive influence on my more, er, autarkic tendencies.”

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