Penthouse Suite Read Free

That’s a fair exchange, don’t you think?”
    Lady in a wheelchair? This was beginning to make sense. At least the wild story he was hearing and its connection with the lady in the wheelchair was no surprise. He’d spent most of his life trying to make sense out of incidents that were more unbelievable. The lady in the wheelchair had to be his Aunt Dorothea, the woman who’d raised him. After almost thirty-six years, both of them had given up on ever understanding what made the other one tick.
    “Ms.… what did you say your name was again?”
    “Kate, Kate Weston.”
    “Miss Weston, I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. But now that I know your presence here involves Dorothea Jarrett, it begins to make more sense. Before I do something rash, I think I’d better hear this story.”
    “Mrs. Jarrett. Yes, that’s her name—the woman in the wheelchair. Do you know her?”
    The doorbell pealed.
    “Just hold on a minute. This ought to be your dry clothes.” Max went to the door, opened it, and took the dry coveralls, closing the door firmly in the face of the young hotel employee.
    Max looked down at the oversized garment he was holding and shook his head. “Don’t we have any uniforms in a smaller size?” He handed the clothing to Kate and turned his back. “Get dressed, and then we’ll talk.”
    Max smiled as he realized that from where hewas standing he could see the woman changing clothes behind him in his mirrored dressing room door. He couldn’t resist taking a peek. He was right. Her legs were long. And she was thin, but not too thin. Her breasts were … just perfect.
    A gentleman wouldn’t have watched, he thought as he turned his head. But then a lady wouldn’t have watched him earlier. As Dorothea always said, turnabout is fair play. But all he could think of was that it was a good thing he wasn’t holding a wrench, or the entire suite would have been ankle-deep in water.
    “Now, Kate. Start at the beginning.”
    They were sitting at the glass and chrome table in the kitchen. Max was drinking mineral water, and Kate was sipping from a can of cola.
    “Are you sure this is all right? I mean, I should get back downstairs, shouldn’t I?”
    “Don’t you have your pager?”
    “Yes, sir. It’s on my cart.”
    Sir?
Now that she wasn’t being threatened, his wild woman with the wrench had suddenly become the uncertain employee. “They know where you are. They’ll page you if you’re needed. I’m waiting to hear how you came to take Joe’s place.”
    “Well, here goes. I guess it started when I got my last paycheck. I mean, it wasn’t my boss’s fault. He was a nice old man who owned a television repair business. He couldn’t pay me much, but he let me live in the shop. Business wasn’t very good. Then he lost his lease, and my last check bounced. He needed the money more than I did. Otherwise I would have installed a new water pump in my car before I left. I’d already been inAtlanta for three months, and Florida was next on my list. I just took a chance.”
    “Do you always take chances?”
    Her hair was dry now. It curled softly across her shoulders. Her square-shaped face, bare of any makeup, seemed determined and proud. There was a tiny scar over her upper lip, and he wondered how she’d gotten it. There was something free and natural about the woman that Max couldn’t quite pin down.
    “Take chances? Me? Sure, all the time. Don’t you?”
    “No. Well, I suppose I do to some extent when I’m playing the market. But even then I never make a move unless I’ve studied all the possibilities carefully.”
    “Market? As in stocks?” In her mind, the man across the table changed into the stern, manipulative, cold stockbroker Michael Douglas played in
Wall Street
. And then Max smiled. “Is that how you made all your money?” she asked.
    “No. I inherited a fishing fleet. And I’ve managed to make a few wise investments.”
    “Must be nice. I’ve never worked