“Yes.” Jessie saw no reason to lie about what she’d been doing. “Have you attended many formal dinners?”
“No. I avoid them like the plague.”
“Then you probably haven’t been exposed to things like fish forks and the like. We’ll go over fancy place settings and exotic silverware to make sure you have them down pat before you get in too deep with the country-club set.”
“We,” he corrected. “Don’t forget, you’re coming along as my on-scene consultant.”
Jessie felt an odd mixture of anticipation and foreboding swirl through her. “I haven’t forgotten,” she said.
“Do you want dessert?” he asked.
“No, thanks. We don’t have time. Since one of the things I stress to the kids is the absolute necessity of being on time for a job, it would hardly look good if I were to show up late.”
“All right.” Max pulled his pager out of his pocket, pushed the button and then gestured toward the waitress, who was keeping them under surveillance.
The woman arrived at their table so fast it was a wonder she didn’t leave skid marks on the floor, Jessie thought acidly.
“May I have the check?” Max asked her.
“Certainly, Mr. Sheridan.” With a sultry smile the woman handed him a small leather folder containing the bill and left.
Max opened it, looked it over and then dropped several bills on it.
Jessie’s eyes narrowed as she noticed the white piece of paper on the side opposite the bill. It appeared to have a name and phone number written on it. The waitress’s? A flash of rage sizzled through Jessie. How dare that blasted woman try to pick up Max while he was with another woman?
“Coming?” Max said as he got to his feet, trying not to let his annoyance show at the way Jessie kept retreating into her thoughts.
Jessie hurriedly got to her feet and followed him out of the restaurant, inordinately glad that he had left the paper with the waitress’s name and number on the table.
Fred and the Mercedes were double-parked at the curb, and Jessie quickly climbed into the backseat.
“Evening, Fred,” she greeted the taciturn driver.
“Evening, Ms.,” he said absently as his eyes continuously swept the area around the car.
“I feel like someone should yell lights, camera, action,” she muttered.
“Fred takes security very seriously,” Max said.
“Damn right I do,” Fred said flatly as he pulled out into traffic. “Where to?”
“Jessie?”
Jessie gave him the address of the youth club.
“Not the best neighborhood,” Fred said in obvious disapproval.
“Not the worst, either,” Jessie said.
“We’ll be fine, Fred,” Max said. “Don’t worry.”
Jessie shot a quick look at Max out of the corner of her eye, her gaze lingering on the firm line of his lips, and longing welled through her.
Max might be fine, but she was beginning to have serious doubts about herself.
Chapter Three
“If I had money, I sure as hell wouldn’t want no job.”
“I see.” Max studied the short, thin teenager sprawled in the chair in front of him.
“And I tell you, man, it ain’t all that much money to start with.” Luis shoved his fingers through his overlong black hair. “Nobody pays much over the minimum.”
“Somehow, I’m not surprised,” Max said dryly.
He glanced over his shoulder at Jessie, who was sitting in the back of the room, watching the interview with a serene expression. She gave him an encouraging smile that inexplicably warmed him.
“Luis,” Jessie said, “you should never, ever tell a prospective employer that you only want a job for the money.”
Luis gave her a disbelieving look. “Nobody’s dumb enough to believe that I’m working for the fun of it, Jessie.”
“I know, but it’s just one of those things that you don’t say,” she continued with the same unflagging patience she’d shown all evening.
She’d make a great mother, Max thought idly. She’d never lose her air of calm competence no matter how annoying her kids got. Her kids wouldn’t have to learn to duck flying fists the way he had.
“It’s like when your girlfriend asks you if you think she’s gained weight,” Jessie said. “You wouldn’t be stupid enough to say yes, would you, even if it’s obvious she has?”
Luis scowled as he considered her words. “Guess not,” he muttered. Clearly it was a comparison he could relate to.
“If I ain’t supposed to tell the truth, Jessie, what kind of lie do I tell ’em?” Luis finally asked.
“Whatever half-truth works to get your foot in the door,” Max said.
“Max Sheridan!” Jessie yelped. “You can’t tell him that.”
“Wrong. I not only can, I just did.”
“But that’s dishonest,” she said.
“No, that’s the way the game is played. The only caveat, and it’s an important one, is never claim to be able to do something you can’t do or to have credentials you don’t have. Sooner or later an outright lie will trip you out, and then your credibility will be in the toilet.”
“I do whatever I gotta,” Luis said.
“Why do you want a job so much?” Max asked, and then wished he hadn’t. He most definitely didn’t want to get any more involved with Jessie’s strays. He’d already wasted most of an evening when he could have been focusing on his own concerns. He stole a quick sideways glance at Jessie to find her studying Luis with a worried expression on her face. Max frowned. He didn’t want her thinking about anything but finding him a wife.
“To buy food. My ma was operated on ’cause a couple of her arteries was blocked, but she can’t go back to work for months yet. The company she works for says she’s gotta be outta work for six months before she can get disability, and the government takes months and months to get welfare. And what’s m’little brothers supposed to eat till then….” Luis gulped as if trying to slow down the torrent of words pouring out of him. “I went to the food pantry over at the church, and they gave me some stuff, but they said they ain’t got enough for everybody who needs it. What they did give me ain’t nothing like what that nurse said Ma was supposed to be eating.”
