here today, but I’ll be gone tomorrow. I may use a jet plane instead of a bus, but I’m living in my own, selfish world, following my own, selfish dreams.”
“But you’re not leaving anyone behind.” Cara knew it was a completely different situation.
“Exactly,” Max agreed. “That’s the beauty of the system. I’m not hurting anyone. I could get shot and killed in a conflict zone or swept down a waterfall and drown and it wouldn’t matter one little bit.”
“It would matter.”
“Yeah, well, NCN’s ratings might drop. But that would be a temporary—”
“Your friends would miss you.” She couldn’t stand to hear him talk that way. He was loved and respected by his friends, his peers, even his viewers.
“Hey, I don’t mean that as a bad thing. I mean it as a source of freedom. Of course my friends would miss me. If they died, I’d miss them, too. But losing a friend is nothing compared to losing parents or a spouse. I’m not going to be the guy who leaves loved ones behind to fend for themselves.”
“Let me get this straight. You’re protecting your potential wife and your potential children by never allowing them to exist?”
Max gave a thoughtful nod. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it.”
“There’s something wrong with that logic.” More than she would tell him. More than she could ever tell him.
“Not from where I’m sitting.”
“You can’t live in a bubble, Max.”
She tried to tell herself that none of this was a surprise. She’d known all along Max wasn’t father material. He wasn’t even relationship material. She had no right to get all maudlin now just because he’d laid it out in no uncertain terms.
Nothing had changed in the last five minutes. She still had a couple of months before she’d even have to hide her pregnancy. She’d decided to ask Lynn about an international posting. There was an ongoing need for communications support in the embassies. She’d like London, or maybe Sydney, or even Montreal. Her child could learn French while he or she was growing up.
“I’m not living in a bubble,” Max countered. “I jump out of airplanes, climb mountains, ford rivers. I even wrestled a crocodile once.”
“Ah, the infamous crocodile story.” She forced herself to lighten things up, taking another bite of her oatmeal.
“Okay,” he said. “In the interest of full disclosure—but I warn you, what happens while trapped by an avalanche, stays in the avalanche.”
She managed a smile at that. “Good grief, what are you about to confess?”
“My guide on that trip? He was nearby in the boat. And I think, well, I know, he conked the gator on the head with his paddle before the wrestling match started.”
Cara worked up a censorious frown, her tone clearly disapproving. “Are you saying the crocodile was incapacitated?”
“I’m guessing. But Jake got the footage, and we all kind of agreed to pretend it was a bigger deal than it was.”
“You fought a punch-drunk crocodile?”
“And won.”
“And parlayed it into the he-man, adventurer reputation you now enjoy amongst your innocent and apparently duped fans.”
There was a twinkle in his eye. “I never claimed to be a Boy Scout.”
“Okay. I guess I’m in no position to be snooty. I’ve never wrestled any kind of crocodile.”
“Just the vultures in the press.”
“Some days, I wish somebody would clonk them on the head with a paddle.”
Max turned thoughtful. “There’s nothing in Fields for either of us. I mean about Eleanor.”
Her guard went up. “You know I can’t discuss that with you.”
“I’m not asking for information. I’m just making an observation. Nobody’s talking. Nobody admits to remembering anything of significance. Which means either there’s a conspiracy going on here worthy of the CIA or people truly don’t remember.”
“I think they don’t remember,” Cara put in before she could stop herself.
“I agree,” Max returned. “And doesn’t that
“But you’re not leaving anyone behind.” Cara knew it was a completely different situation.
“Exactly,” Max agreed. “That’s the beauty of the system. I’m not hurting anyone. I could get shot and killed in a conflict zone or swept down a waterfall and drown and it wouldn’t matter one little bit.”
“It would matter.”
“Yeah, well, NCN’s ratings might drop. But that would be a temporary—”
“Your friends would miss you.” She couldn’t stand to hear him talk that way. He was loved and respected by his friends, his peers, even his viewers.
“Hey, I don’t mean that as a bad thing. I mean it as a source of freedom. Of course my friends would miss me. If they died, I’d miss them, too. But losing a friend is nothing compared to losing parents or a spouse. I’m not going to be the guy who leaves loved ones behind to fend for themselves.”
“Let me get this straight. You’re protecting your potential wife and your potential children by never allowing them to exist?”
Max gave a thoughtful nod. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it.”
“There’s something wrong with that logic.” More than she would tell him. More than she could ever tell him.
“Not from where I’m sitting.”
“You can’t live in a bubble, Max.”
She tried to tell herself that none of this was a surprise. She’d known all along Max wasn’t father material. He wasn’t even relationship material. She had no right to get all maudlin now just because he’d laid it out in no uncertain terms.
Nothing had changed in the last five minutes. She still had a couple of months before she’d even have to hide her pregnancy. She’d decided to ask Lynn about an international posting. There was an ongoing need for communications support in the embassies. She’d like London, or maybe Sydney, or even Montreal. Her child could learn French while he or she was growing up.
“I’m not living in a bubble,” Max countered. “I jump out of airplanes, climb mountains, ford rivers. I even wrestled a crocodile once.”
“Ah, the infamous crocodile story.” She forced herself to lighten things up, taking another bite of her oatmeal.
“Okay,” he said. “In the interest of full disclosure—but I warn you, what happens while trapped by an avalanche, stays in the avalanche.”
She managed a smile at that. “Good grief, what are you about to confess?”
“My guide on that trip? He was nearby in the boat. And I think, well, I know, he conked the gator on the head with his paddle before the wrestling match started.”
Cara worked up a censorious frown, her tone clearly disapproving. “Are you saying the crocodile was incapacitated?”
“I’m guessing. But Jake got the footage, and we all kind of agreed to pretend it was a bigger deal than it was.”
“You fought a punch-drunk crocodile?”
“And won.”
“And parlayed it into the he-man, adventurer reputation you now enjoy amongst your innocent and apparently duped fans.”
There was a twinkle in his eye. “I never claimed to be a Boy Scout.”
“Okay. I guess I’m in no position to be snooty. I’ve never wrestled any kind of crocodile.”
“Just the vultures in the press.”
“Some days, I wish somebody would clonk them on the head with a paddle.”
Max turned thoughtful. “There’s nothing in Fields for either of us. I mean about Eleanor.”
Her guard went up. “You know I can’t discuss that with you.”
“I’m not asking for information. I’m just making an observation. Nobody’s talking. Nobody admits to remembering anything of significance. Which means either there’s a conspiracy going on here worthy of the CIA or people truly don’t remember.”
“I think they don’t remember,” Cara put in before she could stop herself.
“I agree,” Max returned. “And doesn’t that
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