Unfinished Business. Cat Schield

desk. When you’ve met the girl of your dreams and gotten married, I’m going to miss you, buddy. But at least I’ll have the ‘71 Cuda to remember you by.”

      Rachel sat at her desk outside Max’s office and tried to concentrate as her nerves sang a chorus of warnings. For the last two days, he’d been professional, making no further references to their past. But his gaze on her at odd moments held a particular intensity that promised he wasn’t done with her. Not by a long shot.

      Despite his assurances otherwise, she suspected that his motives for strong-arming her into becoming his temporary assistant were personal. She wouldn’t put it past him to lure her into bed, enjoy his fill, and then walk away in the same fashion he believed she’d walked away from him. And that wasn’t her paranoia talking. Max wasn’t someone who forgave easily or at all in the case of his youngest brother, Nathan, and their father.

      From what she’d gathered from her sources inside Case Consolidated Holdings, ever since Nathan had blown into town almost a year earlier, tension amongst the Case brothers had risen. She’d learned from Max five years ago that there was bad blood between the older Case brothers and their illegitimate brother that went way back. According to Andrea, however, things had recently gotten better between Sebastian and Nathan.

      If Max couldn’t let go of the past where his family was concerned, he would certainly never forgive a woman he barely knew.

      Shoving personal concerns aside, Rachel concentrated on something she could control. Max had a trip scheduled next week. The hotel arrangements and flight had been made some time ago, but she needed to arrange for a rental car, to work on a PowerPoint presentation and fix a hundred problems that hadn’t even come up yet.

      The phone rang. Anxiety gripped her at the familiar number lighting up the screen. “Tell me everything’s running smoothly,” she said into the receiver.

      “You sound edgy.” Devon’s amusement came through loud and clear. “Is Max on your case?”

      While Devon laughed at his joke, Rachel signed on to the computer using Andrea’s ID and password. At the moment, Max was interviewing a candidate for his temporary executive assistant. If all went well, Rachel wouldn’t need to contact the IT department for her own computer access. She scanned the assistant’s contacts, searching for the phone number of the restaurant downstairs. Apparently, Max had his lunches catered in most days. Andrea’s contacts gave Rachel a pretty good sense of Max’s activities.

      Restaurants. Florists. Even a couple jewelry stores. He enjoyed entertaining women. Clicking one particular restaurant Rachel had been dying to try except that it was way beyond her means, she saw the manager’s name, the particular table Max preferred, even the wine he enjoyed.

      The man was a player. She hadn’t seen that about him during those days on the beach, although she’d figured it out since coming to Houston. Max didn’t know it, but she’d seen him in action during her early days in the big city.

      Rachel stretched a barricade of caution tape around her heart. If Max wanted to start something with her with the express purpose of payback, she’d better be wary.

      “… doing?”

      Devon had been talking the whole time her mind had been wandering. Whoops.

      “I’m sorry, Devon. I wasn’t listening. What did you ask?”

      “How is it going with Maureen?”

      “She just went in ten minutes ago. Max kept her waiting for half an hour.”

      “I know that tone. Stop worrying. She’s perfect. Max won’t find anything wrong with her skills or her references.”

      “I hope not.”

      And she didn’t have long to wait to find out. Five minutes after she’d hung up with Devon, Maureen exited Max’s office. Unsure whether to be delighted or concerned at the shortness of the interview, Rachel stood as the assistant candidate headed her way.

      “How’d it go?”

      The beautiful redhead’s mouth drooped. “He didn’t seem to like me.”

      “Max is very hard to read. I’m sure he found your qualifications and your experience exactly what he requested.” Rachel kept her expression cheery. “I’ll go have a chat with him now and give you a call later.”

      “Thanks.”

      As soon as Maureen disappeared around the corner, Rachel headed into Max’s office. “Isn’t Maureen great? She has a BA in business and five years of experience in a brokerage house. She’s great with numbers—”

      “Not a self-starter.”

      How had he come to that conclusion after a fifteen-minute interview? “That’s not what I heard from her references.”

      “She’s not going to work out. I need someone who takes initiative. Find me someone else.”

      Rachel hid her clenched hands behind her back and concentrated on keeping her shoulders relaxed and tension from her face as her mind worked furiously on an alternative candidate. “I’ll set up someone for you to interview on Monday.”

      “Single?”

      His question came out of left field and caught her completely off guard. “By law we don’t discuss anyone’s marital status.”

      “But they’d be wearing wedding rings. You’d know if they were single or married.”

      “I could guess …” She floundered. What did he want? Someone single he could hit on? That didn’t seem right. Max might be a player, but he wouldn’t be unprofessional at work. Seeing he awaited the answer to his earlier question, she heaved a sigh. “She’s single. Does that matter?”

      “Your agency has a certain reputation.” He didn’t make that sound like a compliment.

      “For providing the best.”

      “For matchmaking.”

      Rachel wasn’t sure if she’d heard him right. “Matchmaking? Are you out of your mind?” The words erupted before she considered how they might sound. Taking a calming breath, she moderated her tone. “I run an employment agency.”

      He nodded. “And how many of your clients have married the assistants you’ve sent them?”

      What the hell sort of question was that? “I don’t know.”

      “Eight, including Sebastian and Missy.”

      Rachel didn’t know what to make of his accusation. Is that why he sounded so annoyed earlier? He thought … She didn’t quite know what he thought. A matchmaking service? Was he insane?

      “Don’t look so surprised,” he muttered.

      “But I am. How did you know that?”

      “A friend of mine has done a fair amount of research on your little enterprise.” He sneered the last word, leaving no doubt about his opinion of her or her company.

      Rachel inched forward on the sofa as she wavered between staying and disputing his claims and walking out the door. Fortunately, her business sense kicked in and kept her from acting impulsively.

      “I assure you I’m not in the business of matchmaking.” She straightened her spine and leveled a hard look at him. “My agency is strictly professional. If my ability to find the perfect match between executive and assistant means that they’re compatible in other ways, then that’s coincidence.” Serendipity. She grimaced. If word got out that something unprofessional was happening between her clients and her employees, she was finished. “If you’re worried about finding yourself in a similar predicament, I’ll only send you married assistants.”

      She recognized her mistake the second the words were out of her mouth. Annoyance tightened his lips and hardened his eyes to tempered steel.

      Once upon a time she’d been