This work of adult fiction, loosely based on characters portrayed by Russell Crowe, includes adult language and experiences; you have been warned. No copyright infringement on the original work is intended.  Copyright Diana Walker 2005.

Max and Diana should have nailed down their lunch on the Fourth, but they didn’t. Probably a good thing. The day after the holiday, Diana got a phone call from Capt. Bigelow, requesting her presence for a day; she knows an order when she hears one. After arranging horse care, her next phone call was to Max. Of course a game of phone tag ensued.

“Max, it’s Diana. I have to go to DC for a day, but I will call when I get back.”

Maximus calls, and her phone rings four times before her answering machine gets the call and, of course, she uses the mechanical voice that came installed on the system. “At the sound of the tone, please leave a message.”

He is surprised as he is expecting her to answer; he is returning her call within the hour. He is caught off guard, thinking that he perhaps has dialed the wrong number and hangs up. Upon reflection, perhaps leaving a message is best. He can do that and request a return call, so he redials.

“This is Max Espan calling for Diana Walker. If you would be so kind as to return my call at 214.555.1964, I would be appreciative of the consideration.”

Uh, oh. He sounds pissed, not formal this time. Well, it’s not just the boys who get called for work. She calls his cell; no answer. Her next call is to Reags.

“Did you guys have an interesting ride home last night?”

“It was quiet. We both were so tired. I had forgotten how miserable jet lag is.”

“So no fight last night or this morning?”

“No, why do you ask?”
 
“I have to go to DC tomorrow for the day and that has thrown a monkey wrench in Max and my plans for lunch this week. Max and I are playing phone tag; he sounded pissed. Please tell him for me how sorry I am ....”

Reags interrupted laughing, “He already knows how sorry you are.”
 
“I set ‘em up, and you knock ‘em down. Well, at least we still have our sense of humor about us. In case I don’t get to talk to him directly before he sees you, tell him I did enjoy yesterday. Rabbit misses him already.”

“Have a good time in DC, and I will tell Max.”

“Yeah, right – a good time in DC when a briefing pops up out of the blue that Biggie won’t talk about over the phone. There is nothing good sounding about this. Maybe I’ll get lucky, and mystery man will show up.”


DIANA
We finally made contact before I left and set up lunch on Friday, 1:30 at Jeroboam; I am very impressed as it is the toniest place in downtown. What to wear, what to wear? Of course Max will be in a business suit and probably a three-piece one at that if what he wore on the Fourth of July was any indication of his attire. If he was that formal on the Fourth – because the Fourth is shorts and a t-shirt with shoes optional, think a Jimmy Buffet concert – it will be a three-piece suit. Anyone who drives a Bentley will be in a three-piece suit. I need to be upscale, business casual. Navy blue pants with matching blazer and the lime green, attention-getting blouse that I’d worn to the Pentagon for my briefing.

I got there about on time. Let’s face it, the only occasions on which I am absolutely on time is to get into the start box at a horse show. Close enough for government work is my watchword for timeliness. Max, of course, was waiting for me in the foyer. Gentleman that he appears to be, he stood as I walked in the door, and after the Fourth, that was precisely what I had anticipated.

Oh, this could be awkward. If I hug him, he is bound to sense that is not a comfortable thing for me to do; it is just not me to have a public display of affection. If I extend my hand, will he think I’m being overly formal after my casual attitude on the Fourth? If I extend my hand, hopefully he will see me as keeping this appointment as being at arm’s length, which is where it needs to be. He surprises me when he takes my hand by covering it with his other hand …okay, arm’s length but with a little warmth. Maybe he’s decided that me, on my own, isn’t so bad after all, and that I – apart from being Reag’s best friend – have personal merit.

“Max! I saw a Chrysler Crossfire today, and it looks a lot like your Bentley.” That got me a small frown. “Come on, Max. Did you really expect me not to gig you about driving a $200,000 car?” At that, the frown left, and I got that gorgeous smile again. “Besides, Max, a measure of the closeness that I feel to someone is in direct proportion to how much I kid them. Right now, I don't have much to kid you about, except the car.”

“You sound a great deal like someone else I know. He also ‘takes the piss’ with those of whom he is fond. Hopefully, this meeting will serve to solidify our friendship. Come, our table is ready.” He nodded at the maitre d’, and we were escorted across the restaurant to a table in front of the Main Street window. Either Max really did want this to be totally on the up-and-up, or he wanted witnesses in case I killed him. There wasn’t much time for discussion just now, as busboys appeared with water, a waiter appeared with menus, and the sommelier appeared with the wine list.

While perusing the menu I was thinking that I was going to treat this like a lunch-based job interview. The question is: which one of us is trying to get the job? I wasn’t ordering anything that was difficult to eat, that might get stuck in my teeth, or anything that I could spill or dribble. I was glad Max was occupied with the wine list because that gave me plenty of time to look at everything on the menu and run my mental spreadsheet, as I had no computer at hand. The Chicken Portobello met all my criteria. I figured that Max had a battle plan for this lunch, even though we were on neutral territory. After all, I knew he’d been an officer when he was in the army, and what officer is ever without a battle plan? He looked up from the wine list.

“Have you a preference in wines? Red or white? Would you prefer a rosé?”

“I’m having the Chicken Portobello, so how about a white? I truly detest rosés. Poorest excuse for a wine ever made.”

“I have decided on the turbot, so a white will do nicely.” The waiter had been hovering nearby and as soon as Max put down his menu, both he and the sommelier advanced on us. Maximus looked up at them.

“The lady will have the Chicken Portobello, and I would like the turbot. For wine, let us have a bottle of the Lungarotti Pinot Grigio 2003.” He turned back to me. “Does that meet with your approval, or would you prefer something else?” Damn, a man after my own heart. I smiled.

“The Lungarotti is great.”

Maximus nodded at the waiter and sommelier, politely dismissing them. Okay, time for a bit of polite chit-chat while we waited for lunch to be served, at which time we could get into the real reason for this lunch.

“Max, you surprise me. Dressing down to a two-piece suit instead of the three-piece I expected?” I grinned to let him know that for me, this was an endearing comment. He was ready for me, and the zinger winged its way across the table accompanied by his smile.

“And you surprise me. I was expecting shorts and a t-shirt. I was hoping they would match.”

“I dressed up for this interview, Max, business casual. I still had my go-bag open, and this was on top.”

“How was your trip? Was the briefing as dreaded as you had anticipated?”

“Not as bad as I had expected. Captain Bigelow wants to loan me out to the Naval Academy to do some real HR work. What a concept! But it totally blows this show season as I will have to be gone sometime in October or November, the heart of show season. Just as well. I hate conditioning in the heat. That means we can have an enjoyable ride together when the heat breaks.”

“You have so many horses on your farm …why are we not riding them?”

“Because Reags needs good instruction. I am at the point that I can no longer articulate to her what she needs to do. My muscles make the correction when I’m on the horse without my having to think about it. Alice can describe to Reags what she needs to do. Frankly, there isn’t a one of the horses on my place that I would trust with a beginner. The big mare has no steering, Rabbit is too old, and the others are just not beginner horses. And by keeping Jack at Alice’s, I don’t have to build a cross-country course at my place. If Jack and I run across a problem that I can’t work through, Alice is there to be my eyes and to describe what Jack is doing immediately.” He smiled and nodded.

“You are very protective of Reagan, aren’t you?” I nodded.

“Even though I’ve been hurt worse when I’ve been on the ground working with horses, when you’re learning, you’re going to fall. Hell, Max, I still fall, and even though it hasn’t happened in years, I know that it can. I don’t want to see her injured, particularly on one of my horses because she’d never let me live it down.”

“I would not think her capable of carrying a grudge.”

“It isn’t that she carries a grudge, Max. Has she told you that Okie bit her last year, and that she had to have emergency surgery because of it? It was her fault – which she freely acknowledges – and while she holds no grudge, she still gigs me about it but has never blamed him.” The sommelier reappeared with the wine and asked if Max wanted it chilled; he didn’t, which was fine with me. No sooner was the wine approved and poured than the waiter arrived with our plates and served us.

As he straightened and looked at us, Max dismissed him with a polite but definite, “Thank you. That will be all unless I indicate a need for your assistance.” There was no doubt in my mind that he was accustomed to commanding the troops. He had to have been a bird colonel or higher but as he’s so young, I settled on pegging his rank as full colonel. Maybe he had been on fast track and attained his rank early. Maybe the Spanish Army didn’t work like ours. Whatever the reason, he certainly had that air of unquestioned command down pat, and now I felt comfortable with moving on to the real reason for this meeting, assured that the waiter would not approach and interrupt us again.

“Okay, Max …who called this meeting? What do you want to know?”

“Tell me about your work. I know you have been in human resources …in what industries were you involved?” I put on my poker face and inwardly gulped. I could tell him a little but not everything; I could tell him as much as I had told Reags and hope that, like her, he knew which questions not to ask and was good at reading the silences.

“HR skills are transferable to all sorts of different industries. I started out in retail and then discovered that you actually could have a Christmas; once I left retail, I swore never to go back. From there I went with an electronics firm that did work for the Department of Defense.”

“What is it that you find enjoyable about human resources?”

“I found out that I hated interviewing but liked putting projects together.” I grabbed a bite of my chicken, taking the smallest possible bites so that I wouldn’t get caught with my mouth full when he asked the next question. “What I discovered that I really liked was the problem-solving. I got the people interface on the front end, got to pull the data in the research phase, dump it all into a spreadsheet and spot the trends. I like the process as much as I like getting the answers. I found that I could read a spreadsheet as easily as most people read a book, spotting the trends months before a problem actually developed. Because of those talents, I got loaned out to a lot of different departments that had nothing to do with HR.” I snagged a bite of asparagus and let him chew on that for a bit, hoping that he would not ask the next logical question. No such luck.

“What departments?”

“Oh, contracts, cross functional project teams, operations a couple of times …that sort of thing.” He heard ‘operations’ and knew as well as I did precisely what that meant; he didn’t push that line of inquiry any further. Thank you, God!

“I surmise your security clearance was rather high.”

“Let’s just say that I could get into the vault any time that I needed to do so. Anything more than that is on a ‘need to know’ basis, and you, my friend, have no need to know.”

“Were you always billeted in the United States?” Hmmmm. Was he asking where I was physically, or where my paperwork said I was? I know he was asking physical, but I chose to answer the paperwork aspect.

“I was always here in the States. As I said, I’ve only ever done Europe student-poor.” He smiled and nodded, and I knew he wouldn’t pursue that particular line of questioning any further. I had the distinct impression that as soon as he got back to his office, he was going to be ‘into the vault’ to check further, and my professional life would be as much of an open book to him as it would be to anyone else. There would still be an awful lot about me that he wouldn’t be able to find. Thankfully, he seemed comfortable with that answer.

“You have answered my questions in a most sombre mien, Diana. Have I fallen from favour with you?”

“My professional life was deadly serious, Max. I did have fun doing it, but it was always serious.” He smiled.

“As was my own.” He looked out the window, and I realized that I had completely lost his attention so naturally, my gaze followed his. I must be going crazy. I’m seeing heather brown suits everywhere. Just outside the window was a red-headed man in a heather brown suit, and he seemed to be looking at Max with a cocky grin on his face. Maximus looked distinctly annoyed. First time I’d seen that particular scowl on his face. I jerked my thumb toward the window.

“Do you know this guy, Max?”

“I do; he is the more disreputable of my partners where women are concerned.”

I sighed, “Please, promise me that you aren’t going to try and fix me up with him. Unless I ask.”

“No, it had been my intention to keep the two of you as far apart as possible.” Max shook his head at the man, obviously wishing he could dismiss him as easily as he had the waiter. I looked back at the man who smiled at Max, mouthed “Gotcha,” and walked off down the street with a swagger. It wasn’t exactly what I would term a five-ball walk, but it was definitely a swagger. I looked back at Max.

“Okay, Max, you know as much as I’m willing to tell you about my professional life – aside from the funny stories – but I have only a very surface level idea of what you do. Turn about is fair play, Max. Tell me about it.” He took a swallow of his wine before answering and I was betting that was his way of giving himself time to decide what – and how much – he wanted to tell me.

“What do you wish to know?” That did it, and I blew.

“Come on, Max, cut the crap. You’ve made me work for every damned thing I’ve learned about you. You’re as bad as a job applicant with a lot to hide. You can either start coming clean with me now and open up, or this lunch is over. We’ll be as friendly as we need to be in front of Reags – both of us are good enough that she’ll probably never know the fucking difference – but we will never be the friends she wants us to be. I was willing to meet you more than halfway today, but I’m not going to work at creating a trusted friendship if you aren’t willing to reciprocate. You told me more on the Fourth about a very difficult subject than you have about totally unclassified work.”

MAXIMUS

Each battle has its defining moment. This encounter had reached that moment. My formality and enforced deception had not served me well this day. I sat up in my chair and then pushed all the way back, coming to ramrod straight attention. Diana would not be stayed in her speech. She leaned forward, gaining ground and encroaching on my territory. A strategic withdrawal was in order.

“Now that I have heard both your and Reags’ sides of that little peccadillo in the spring, there is enough blame for both of you. However, I have you here now, and you’ve got my temper up. Let me tell you just how much of a heel I think you were. Don’t panic. You aren’t in that much trouble; I never called you a fucking son of a bitch.” As she had a lilt in her voice, I was unsure if she was joking with me or if the tone belied a deeper meaning.

She had chosen a poor approach to this subject but was committed. While I preferred this matter be behind all of us, it would not be. Her words stung, but needed to be said for it to be finished for her. As much as I would try and avoid it, my jaw set.

Diana had much emotion in her voice, though she tried to control it. “It goes back to that overly protective streak you have in you, and it has no place in 21^st century America, so take your old world macho ideas and put them where the sun don’t shine. It’s Reagan’s body, and it’s her decision. If she had been pregnant, the fact that you were the sperm donor doesn’t mean jack. While I thought your offer to support her and then raise the baby was sweet, you weren’t going to have to go through the nine months; she was. And to be realistic, your life – the little I know of it – does not lend itself to raising a child. The mere fact that you didn’t even listen to her saying that it wasn’t hell, no to marriage, it was hell, no to marriage RIGHT NOW makes me wonder about how good your listening skills actually are at your job. I assumed that when training for negotiations, one listened, and you didn’t listen to one damned word that came out of her mouth. I could cut you some slack because both of you were upset. Couldn't one of you have stepped back and been reasonable? Tried to talk it through that night? What happened to clarifying what was being said? I'm ashamed of both of you.”

With that, she sat back in her chair with a very smug smile on her face, giving back the more than half of the table she had claimed while addressing me. I could not reclaim the battle field the table had come to represent.

I could admire her voicing her concern. I could not admire her voicing her criticism of me; I have never dealt well with criticism. She was so different from my Cassandra – Diana is truly a woman of this time. I doubted she ever had a self doubt. If she knew of my life, no, lives, would she have the same opinion of me?

She spoke truly of my ability to raise a child in my current life; it would not be feasible alone – not in my current profession. In the fervor of the moment, I did not consider that possibility. I could only see the much wished for child. My joy at potential fatherhood clouded my reasoning.

My listening skills were another matter. They are exceptional; I had not used them. It was for that failure that I accepted her chastisement.

DIANA

I crossed my arms over my chest – hostile body language if he’d ever seen it – and smiled and spoke sweetly.

“So, Max, tell me about your work.”

Max sat there, totally silent for more than a minute. I ignored my meal and the wine because now I wasn’t going to accept a damned thing from him. I took a sip of my water and continued waiting. I watched the emotions moving across his face – anger, followed by bewilderment and shock and finally, hurt. When I saw the hurt, it dawned on me that I had made some headway with him in the friendship department, because you can only be hurt by someone if you care about them. He finally sat forward and looked me straight in the eyes as he started to speak.

“In my profession, the majority of what I do can be done from my office. I know that Reagan has told you that our firm is in the kidnap and ransom industry. Individuals – primarily men – who are employed with large corporations are often at high risk and in that environment, K & R insurance on executives and their families is the standard. However, there are a growing number of entrepreneurs who are engaged in occupations that periodically raise the intense dislike – and ill will – of those less fortunate. It is not unusual for a private businessman to be kidnapped or to have a member of his family taken, and held for ransom.” He stopped for air and continued which shocked the hell out of me. He had just spoken more words to me, without constant prompting, than he had the entire time I had known him.

“In the private sector, the individual takes out a policy with a small insurance carrier that is not well known, as this is very much a níche industry. The carrier contacts us with specifics, and we contact the man and his family personally. We perform the usual tasks of setting up a security system on the home and automobiles, but we also provide constant personal protection by placing individuals in our hire around the family members. We place personnel in the work place, in positions such as secretaries, administrative assistants and so on. If the wife is unemployed, we place a ladies’ maid in the home to shadow her; the gardener or chauffeur would be in our employ. School children are watched on a daily basis by teaching assistants or playground monitors; occasionally we place an actual teacher in the school. We insist that the family vary their schedules constantly to avoid being taken as a result of a predictable schedule that presents an opportunity. We require photographs of children and adolescents be updated monthly, as they change so rapidly; adults have new photos taken every three months at the outside. If the wife changes the colour of her hair or changes her hairstyle, we require an immediate updated photograph. We must do our best to outthink potential kidnappers in order to protect our clients and that entails knowing every aspect of the lives of our clients. It is a very intrusive job, and many families are unable to withstand the strain of having someone they do not know constantly underfoot. As a function of our job and its requirements, we have seen several divorces take place, but we cannot diminish our scrutiny or our vigilance.”

He took a deep breath and looked at me again; after the first eye contact, he had dropped his eyes. I wish he had been looking as he had rattled off those details. He would have seen me soften and become genuinely interested.

His hands had been on the arms of his chair with fists clenched; now they relaxed slightly. He was making an obvious effort to control his body language. I had hit one hell of a nerve. “Is that information sufficient to assure you of my good will?” I reached across the small table and took one of his hands in mine.

“More than enough, Max; I told you I hated interviewing and now you know why; I hate grilling people. I’m sorry. I had no right to jump on you that way about your spring misunderstanding. That is your business not mine. In the future, I will keep my opinions to myself.”

He tilted his head to one side and smiled. “Your apology is accepted, Diana.”

It was my turn to add a bit of my own background. “The training you provide your clients and their families sounds as if it comes straight out of the DoD Handbook.”

“Thanks to one of my partners, it does.” The corporate geek in me now wanted to know something about their organizational structure so I pursued that thread. It might also provide us with the friendship forging exchange of information we both were seeking.

“How are you guys organized? How many partners, three? I'd think that since you have three letters in the company name. Are you equal partners? Do you have the world split up? And if so, who gets which piece of the pie?”

“We are three equal partners, and yes, if we must go abroad, each of us has an area of the world with which we are intimately familiar.”

“How often do any of you have to go abroad? What area is your playground?” He gave me a wry look.

“I travel more than I would like. I am usually abroad three to four times a year – often as long as a month at a time - and my region is Europe, the Middle East, and Africa. I have traveled extensively in those areas and speak most of the languages spoken there.”

“Why are you based in Dallas? It seems to me that New York or DC would be more centrally located for travel purposes.”

“At one time that was likely true. However, in recent years, most of the kidnappings that occur take place in South America, and Dallas is more convenient. If we are required to go to Europe or the Far East, connections are easy enough to make.”

God, I hate having gone off on Maximus that way. It’s so unlike me; what is it about him that prompted that? Reags calls me poker-faced and usually I am, but damn, it sure felt good while I was doing it. Maybe, slowly but surely, I am coming back to life.

Poor Max. He happened to be standing there when my anger reflex came back. I held it in check for so very long, when it came back, it came back with a vengeance. Holding a civil business conversation with him may be as close as Max and I get to throwing our arms around each other and singing Kum Ba Yah. At least for right now.

“Well, that was a good start. Please, do try to actually converse with me in the future. I promise I will do the same with you. I can’t promise not to bristle at you, but I will tell you everything that I can.” He laughed with his eyes crinkling at the corners. “What's so funny?”

“Bristles.”

His laugh got me to laughing.

“Okaaaaaaaaaaaaay. I don't get it. But at least I haven't hurt your feelings again. I won't press my luck and ask.”

“That is for the best. Perhaps that is a good place for us to end this lunch, if you are ready.”

“I am. I know you have to get back to the office. I appreciate your taking the time – and effort – for us to get to know each other.” He reached across the table and gave my hand a little squeeze.

“As am I, Diana.” I needed to extend some kind of peace offering.

“Call me Dee.” And I did another uncharacteristic thing. I hugged him.