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“How was the Grand Canal?” I ask.
“Grand. And a Canal.” She looks around the room. “I expected to see your computer and papers everywhere. Are you taking a work break?”
“Not exactly.”
Max has been talking to Liam, who gives a little wave and walks out to stand in the hallway
“We thought you might want to stay with us for a while.”
Huh? “Why would I? This is a perfectly nice place.”
“But lonely. Come stay with us and we’ll coddle you.”
“Your new home awaits,” Max tells me with a sweeping bow.
“Where’s your top hat? And your cape?”
“In the trunk with his monocle, cane, and white silk scarf,” Cress declares while the crinkles around Max’s eyes show his amusement.
In the blink of an eye, they’ve carried me off. Liam and Case wait patiently next to their cars. Then we make a very small caravan to Max’s house. Liam scores street parking and Case pulls around to the underground garage, an unusual feature that was one of the main selling points when Max moved to Chicago.
Jarvis sits in the living room, the cats cuddled up with him on the huge cream couch. In most rooms, it would take up at least half the floor space, but this room makes it seem just the right size. Perfect for Max’s six-foot-five frame and deep enough for two.
“Thanks for bringing them back, Jarvis.” Cress walks over to pet Dorothy and Thorfinn. They seem uninterested in her return. “You’ve stolen their hearts,” she scolds.
“Hi, Micki.” Jarvis gets up, the cats scrambling away from his big feet. I give him a little wave.
“I toyed with the idea of keeping them, but cats are heartless.” Jarvis gives a big stretch, then sits back down. The cats, like yo-yos, immediately climb back into his lap. “They know their place in the hierarchy and it’s far above us. I’m sure a judicious amount of groveling will convince them to grant you grace.”
“You could just take them with you when you leave,” Max teases.
“I’m not leaving without another crack at your wine cellar. Bring out a bottle of that $2000 red you kept locked up while you were away. It’s not too much to ask.” Jarvis readjusts his lounging position, showing he’s in for the long haul.
“It’s much too much to ask,” Max says as he leaves for the basement, where he cellars his vintage wine collection under lock and key.
“By the way, Micki, you’re looking for a new job, right?” Jarvis has a twinkle in his eye.
“How do you know that?”
“Hackers know everything.” He languidly moves from the couch and whispers in my ear, “There may be an interesting nonprofit opening for a legal consultant coming up in the next few months. If you’re interested, I can put a word in.”
“What kind of consultant?”
“I can’t give you any details. But showing interest won’t hurt.”
This sounds too good to be true. On the other hand, his sister is a recruiter for nonprofits, so he probably gets inside tips. I give a mental groan as I’m reminded of insider trading and Congressman Simon Greenberg. “Guess I’m willing to throw my hat blindly into the ring. Don’t have anything to lose.”
Cress walks in from the kitchen. “Did you say something about needing a job?”
“Yeah.” Glumly, I look at my shoes, now covered with a stretched-out Thorfinn.
“We need the whole story in gory detail.”
“What do we need?” Max puts his arms around Cress, pressing her back into his chest.
“We need to hear why Micki, instead of celebrating being the newest partner at one of the stuffiest law firms in the country, is looking for a new job.”
“Not now. Maybe soon.” I grab my bag and haul it up the stairs before either Max or Jarvis can help me.
