Feeling slightly ignored, she squeezed between the space of the wooden doorframe and his large, muscular body. This room was much like the last. Insufferably bare. She opened her mouth to say something but stopped. She stared closer at the window. It had a thin horizontal crack. Along the top was a small vertical one, connecting the lines to make a T. Both lines were perfectly etched. “Did someone intentionally do that into the glass?” Ivy whispered as she strolled across the room and touched the splintered glass. It was odd. She couldn’t feel the crack but it appeared to be broken all the way through.
The clicking of a camera interrupted her thoughts. She heard the soft shuffling of Max’s boots against the wood floor as he came up next to her. He bent and inspected the glass. With the tip of his forefinger, he followed the long, straight line. “Interesting.”
Ivy got a whiff of his woodsy scent. She started to lean nearer, wondering what cologne he wore, but caught herself. Definitely not a good idea. She cleared her throat and looked past the broken window into the captivating view. “Wow. Beautiful.” A group of deer grazed along the edge of the woods. The clear blue sky seemed to go on forever along with the overgrown field dotted with purple wildflowers.
“Nice.” Max snapped the view. “This is enough to make the blood pressure drop.”
She started to nod in agreement when she realized he was latently referring to her as the reason his blood pressure was high. She turned and braced her hands on hips. “If you’re still sore about me hitting you, remember I did say sorry. I’d hardly say that was enough to cause your blood pressure to rise. I have made an effort to end this ridiculous attitude you are airing in my direction.”
His voice was calm as he said, “The cheek still stings, but I’m beyond that.”
Ivy wanted to say something, anything, but his piercing glare held her silent and the amount of space his massive frame dominated in the room made her feel…different. It wasn’t suffocating, but she had an uncomfortable, breathless feeling. His height towered over hers. No words formed on her lips. Her brain seemed to stop functioning.
“If you’d like for this situation to work, I suggest you do your work quietly and allow me to do mine by staying out of my way.”
“For your information, Mac–”
One corner of his mouth twisted. “The name’s Max. Not Mac.”
“Excuse me, Max.” She put blatant emphasis on his name. “You may not want my opinion–”
“I don’t remember asking for it,” he said frankly.
“You asked for it the moment you came in here presuming you could get by with being an ass,” she stated firmly.
“Then please, by all means, tell me what you’re thinking.”
She bit into her bottom lip. Okaaay. He asked for it. “I think this ghost hunting, or paranormal investigation, is all an illusion on your part. You play into people’s off-the-wall beliefs to sell your books.”
“Now aren’t you the one presuming a bit?”
“That you play off people’s beliefs? Not at all.”
“Aren’t you presuming that I’m an ass? Maybe I should presume you’re an ass. I’ve had warmer welcomes from evil spirits.”
Her palm ached to slap him. She’d never hit someone in anger in all her life. She’d hit him earlier in self-defense. “Me? An ass? How dare you!”
“No, how dare you. You think you can dish up your subtle put-downs with a side of smile and a flash of blues and I’m supposed to grin and bear it. I have no doubt that you got roped into this assignment. Secretly, you wish you had more to write about than a mother giving birth to her baby in the back seat of a Honda Accord or a flasher giving the Mayor a shot of nudity on the lawn of the courthouse. Remember something, sweetheart, we may have to share this space for the next two weeks, but I don’t have to like it. If you can’t take the heat, I suggest you jump out of the pot.”
“You’d like it if I got all flustered and furious and walked out of here, wouldn’t you? Let me warn you, it isn’t going to happen. I can tell you that much. While you’re here, I’m here. Like it or not. I was just trying to be nice–to break the ice, so to speak.” She started to walk away, and then stopped. She wasn’t finished with him yet. “And another thing, you should feel lucky that your work sold two million copies. I’m sure it was simply because of people’s rooted fascination in ghosts because if they met you and if first impressions had anything to do with it, you’d be selling peanuts out of a cart on some street corner.” Her words dripped with ice and she didn’t care one bit.
“For someone who doesn’t know a lot about my work, you definitely know about my sales revenue. You sure you haven’t read one or two?”
“Don’t embarrass yourself.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I can appreciate anyone who can pick up a camera, point and click.” She took a deep breath. “I won’t drop to your level of insults.” She sniffed.
He was undisturbed by her disaffection. In fact, he curved his lips into a smile as he went back to recording in his notebook. “Are you finished?” he asked without looking her way. He was casual about the situation, like he had smashed a bug and was flicking it into good riddance.
Ivy knew the squabble should end, but something inside her just couldn’t let it rest. Getting everything out in the open absolved any chance that later she’d let him have it. “I haven’t yet given my opinion of you yet,” she stated.
“You could have fooled me.”
She kept her tension in check. No sinking. “I think you hold a personal grudge against me because I am a journalist. Not me as an individual, but all journalists as a group.”
“Okay,” he tossed over his shoulder, unconcerned.
“I read the articles written about you and your ex-wife. They called you a man who used his wife’s place in society as a ladder for success.” The tensing of his shoulders and the tightening of his jaw told her she’d struck a chord. Had she stepped over some hidden boundary of human kindness? She did feel better–slightly. Now who was the bug being smashed?
He remained quiet. She’d given up on receiving a reply, but at last it came. His gaze connected with hers, and when he spoke it was eerily low and husky. “I see that my first impressions aren’t award-winning but they sure are interesting. You’ve gained a lot of information about me in this ten-minute chitchat that proves to you the logic behind the mumbo-jumbo that filled those trash magazines. Most reputable journalists wouldn’t cite information they’d found in a tabloid.” He smirked. “You’re like the fly that won’t quit biting the horse’s ass.”
She laughed. She couldn’t resist. “And you’re the horse’s ass in that statement? It’s nice to see we agree on something.”
He apparently didn’t find the humor as she did. He threw his notebook and pen down onto the floor and took three paces toward her. She sucked in a breath. He came so close that she could smell his cologne and see that he had two different colored eyes. One was a lighter green and the other was darker. “You’re a feisty one, aren’t you, Ivy?”
His closeness was much like a sweet, cool breeze across her clammy skin. It felt good, and she didn’t like it. She blurted, “It’s no secret your life has been–” She carefully searched for the right word. “–eventful in the media.” Had he taken another step closer? She needed to get away but the only way she had to go was out the window or through him. “Why are you standing so close?”
His eyes were focused on her lips.