Grand Passion

“You're going to leave in the morning?”
    “Afraid so.” O'Reilly glanced at Sylvia.
    “But you'll be coming back, won't you?” Trisha asked. “You said you'd be here for the wedding on Friday.”
    “Wouldn't miss it for the world,” O'Reilly said. “I'll definitely be back on Friday. With my best suit.”
    “God help us,” Max muttered.
    Andromeda beetled her brows at him. “I'm sure O'Reilly's best suit is very nice.”
    “It's green, and it's made out of polyester,” Max said. “Need I say more?”

Chapter

17

    T he following night, Cleo put her hands behind her head and gazed up at the shadowed ceiling of the attic. “I'm going with you tomorrow when you talk to Spark.”
    “No,” Max said from the other side of the bed. “For the last time, I don't want you there.”
    The argument had been festering since four o'clock that afternoon, when Cleo had discovered that Max had made arrangements to talk to Garrison Spark the next day. She had immediately announced her intentions of confronting Spark with Max. Max had put his foot down with a forcefulness that had not only startled her; it had hurt her.
    “Max, this is all happening because of me. I have a right to be there with you when you talk to Spark.”
    “Cleo, stop pushing. I told you, I'm going to handle this.”
    She sat up in bed, exasperated to the point of anger. “Why are you being so bloody-minded about it? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't be there.”
    “You don't know anything about handling someone like Spark.”
    “And you do?”
    “Yes.”
    “What makes you an expert?” she snapped.
    “I told you, I once worked for Spark. I know how he thinks. I also know how he operates.”
    “So?” Cleo challenged.
    “So I don't want you anywhere around when I talk to him about what's been happening.”
    “I'm not an idiot, Max. I won't mess up your plans, whatever they are.”
    “I never said you were an idiot.”
    “I am also not as naive as everyone seems to think.” Cleo paused suddenly. “Max, does it strike you that we're having our first major quarrel?”
    “We're not quarreling.”
    “Sure sounds like a quarrel to me.”
    “We are not quarreling, damn it.”
    Cleo was taken aback by the fierce insistence in his voice. “Okay, so we're having a heated discussion. Whatever you want to call it, I think the time has come for you and me to clear up a little communication problem we seem to have developed.”
    “What communication problem?” he asked warily.
    Cleo took a breath. “You once noted that you and I have different styles of management. Well, those two styles have just collided, and they will probably do so again in the future. We need to learn how to deal with each other when that happens.”
    “Damn. The last thing I need tonight is a conversation like this.”
    “Tough. We're having it.” Cleo touched his shoulder. “I think you and I need to get something settled here, Max. You can't walk into this family and just start throwing your weight around the way you apparently did when you worked for Curzon International. If you and I are going to make this relationship work, we're going to have to learn to work as a team.”
    Max did not move. The new tension radiating from him was palpable. “What's that supposed to mean?”
    Cleo watched him uneasily. She had the feeling that she had accidentally stepped into a minefield. “I'm just trying to talk about our mutual problem.”
    Max moved without any warning. He shoved the covers aside and sat up on the edge of the bed. He reached for his cane and got to his feet. “Are you telling me that if we don't do things your way, our relationship, as you call it, is over?”
    “ Max .” Cleo clutched the sheet to her breast. “For heaven's sake, I never said that. I just said we needed to iron out some of our communication problems.”
    “ Communication problems sounds like code for I'm having second thoughts about marrying you, Max .”
    “That's not true,” Cleo retorted. “We're having a little trouble relating to each other, that's all.”
    “Don't give me a lot of pop-psych communication theory.” Max looked down at her with dangerous eyes. “Just cut to the bottom line.”
    “There is no bottom line.” Cleo was bewildered by his reaction. “I'm only trying to tell you that you can't expect me to meekly step aside and let you take over running the family and everything else in sight. Good grief, no wonder Kimberly was afraid to give you