The Firefighter's Match. Allie Pleiter

      “Every one. Mom used to say he stayed up nights looking for ways to hurt himself.” Her voice caught on the last two words.

      Alex knew the type. Specializing in extreme gear as they did, those types were a big part of AG’s customer base. Sam was one and had made a career out of knowing just how to push thrill seekers’ buttons.

      “I’m trying to find out what I can, but WWW isn’t really sharing lots of information with us right now. Even though we’re a major vendor, I don’t have as much clout as you’d think. It may be you learn things before I do, seeing as your Max’s family.”

      “Why isn’t someone from WWW here?”

      “There’s someone on the way.” He’d met the guy they were sending and had taken an instant dislike to him. Way too smooth. “You probably won’t like him much.”

      “I skipped straight to hating WWW an hour ago when they wheeled Max out of surgery.” She looked at him. “Why are you still here? Don’t you have to go cover your corporate tail or something? Get legal on the phone?”

      Alex didn’t really know why he was still here. Did people think his leaving was just ditching blame, “covering his tail”? Her eyes told him that was exactly what people thought, and he couldn’t refute it, could he? He did have a bad habit of ditching tough situations, and something told him that had to stop. It struck him that if he didn’t stay—here, now—he never would. “I didn’t think it was fair to leave you alone in all this.”

      That remark shot something through her spine. She sat up, defensive and prickly. “I’m a combat fire specialist. Army. I’m not some little girl whose hand you have to hold.”

      Funny, he’d wanted to do just that, take her hand, out on the dock or even in the helicopter when she’d let her head fall against the glass. “I know you can hold your own. I just don’t want you to have to.”

      “I have friends.” Defiance honed a sharp edge to her voice. She’d told him just the opposite out there on the docks—said that other than her brother and one cousin she didn’t know people in Illinois and she rather liked it that way. He didn’t doubt that she had friends who would love to be there for her, but the simple truth was she didn’t have friends nearby, which made all the difference in a situation like this. Still, he was sure she’d never admit that.

      “Okay.” Alex drank his awful coffee and stared at the industrial carpeting. They both sat in silence for a minute, then she let out a sigh that seemed to ease some of the iron from her spine.

      “I didn’t mean to snap at you.” She pulled the elastic from her hair and then began nervously working it into a quick braid down her back. Efficient and out of the way. “That wasn’t fair.”

      “None of this is fair. This is wrong in a million different ways, JJ. I’m so sorry.”

      “Yeah, well...” She waved off the rest of her sentence. Really, what was there to say?

      Give me some kind words, Lord, Alex prayed, stretching his brain for something meaningful—and only coming up with lame platitudes and more apologies.

      “Alex?”

      Alex looked up to see a familiar face in an excruciatingly geeky turtleneck and cargo pants standing in the lounge doorway. Great. The only thing worse than WWW’s slick executive guy was the eccentric lawyer Sam had hired last year.

      “Morning.” The guy checked his phone, which was of course this year’s latest gadget must-have. He looked at JJ and introduced himself. “Barry Morgan. AG legal.”

      JJ rolled her eyes and stood up. “Well, that didn’t take long.”

      Barry had the nerve to look annoyed. “Sorry if I’m intruding, Miss...”

      “I doubt that,” JJ snapped back, then disappeared through the ICU doors, leaving behind the coffee and the muffins Alex hadn’t even had a chance to offer without a second look.

      “Nice going, Morgan.” Alex didn’t bother to hide his irritation. “That was Josephine Jones, Max Jones’s sister. Was showing up here, now, really necessary?”

      “I was in town giving a first pass at some sponsorship documents, so Sam begged me to come by and make sure we’re on the same page. Sam would’ve come himself but he’s going back to Denver tomorrow morning since you don’t seem to want to leave. Chill out. I’m just here to talk to you—I’m not going to bother her.”

      “You just did. What can’t possibly wait until Jones is awake and we know his prognosis?

      “Hey, look, you should be glad I was nearby. WWW’s got guys all over this screaming we’re liable. Already.”

      Alex pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course they are.” He gave Morgan his most direct look. “We are, aren’t we?” He didn’t even want to be having this conversation.

      “Depends on your interpretation.”

      A very lawyerly answer from a guy who looked more like he belonged at a coffee bar than the American Bar Association. Where did Sam find these guys? “I’m sure.” Alex waited for Morgan to snap open his leather messenger bag and hand over a stack of releases for JJ to sign, but the man simply sat down. “And what’s your interpretation?” Alex prompted.

      Morgan adjusted his artsy wire glasses. “The equipment we gave WWW was a prototype and not yet fully drop tested, right?”

      “Not we. I never approved that. I only agreed to let them examine it—not use it. You should know that right now.”

      “Sam brought me up to speed on your opinion.” He lowered his voice. “Look, the bottom line is that it’d be best for all concerned if we kept things as far from antagonistic with the victim and his family as possible. Sam’s ticked you’re not going to Denver, but I told him that you sticking around could be an advantage. I trust you’re on board with that strategy?”

      Alex didn’t like people who used phrases like “on board” and “up to speed,” especially while dressed like coffeehouse poets. “If you’re asking me if I’m in favor of AG being in position to do the right thing here, then yes, I’m ‘on board.’”

      “Good. Your role is to stay in the family’s good graces. If any suits are going to be filed, life will be far easier for us if they’re directed at WWW and not AG. Surely you can see that.”

      The awful coffee in Alex’s stomach turned more sour. “Oh, I can see exactly where you’re heading with this.”

      “Excellent.”

      Alex stood. “And believe me, if you aren’t out of this hospital within ten minutes you’ll see just how ‘up to speed’ I can be, Morgan. If you think I’m here to cozy up to Jones’s family for leverage...” Without finishing the vile thought, Alex picked up Morgan’s bag and slapped it into the attorney’s chest. “I’m here because a man’s future is hanging in the balance, not because the profit share is in jeopardy. Leave. Now. And if you want anything, go call my brother. He speaks your language much better than I do.”

      This was exactly the kind of company Alex didn’t want to run. Morgan was precisely the kind of person Alex never wanted to do business with. Was this the future of AG, or was there still time to turn things around?

      That frustration, and the sleep deprivation, got the best of Alex because out of nowhere he shouted, “And for crying out loud, Morgan, does Sam know you do business looking like that?”

      * * *

      He was still there. Six hours had passed. JJ had walked out of ICU three times for food or phone calls about Mom’s plane arrival or just to stop hearing the awful noise of those machines, and each time Alex Cushman was still camped out on the navy couch. After the second encounter, he’d simply stopped trying to make her talk to him. It was like Alex was keeping a silent vigil of his own. She didn’t know what to do with