Grand Passion

enthusiasm had been replaced by a look of intense agitation.
    “What is going on around here?” Valence demanded. “I'm trying to run a video in there. What's happened to the power?”
    “I'm going to check on it,” Max said mildly. He took the flashlight from Sylvia.
    Valence scowled. “Well, hurry up about it, will you? I've got a seminar to teach. I've got a reputation to maintain, you know. I can't do my best work without my audiovisual equipment.”
    “Try being creative,” Max said. “Just think positive. Positive thinking is the fuel that runs the engine of creativity, remember?”
    Sylvia turned away, but not before Max saw that she was struggling to bite back a laugh. Valence's face tightened with outrage.
    “Is that supposed to be funny?” Valence asked coldly.
    “I'm just giving you some of your own advice.” Max stepped around him, heading for the basement stairs. “And I'm not even going to charge you for it.”
    “Now see here,” Valence sputtered, “I don't have to put up with that sort of rudeness.”
    The lobby door opened at that moment. Max glanced back over his shoulder as wet wind and a disheveled-looking Cleo swept into the room.
    Cleo was clutching a brown paper sack protectively under one arm. He saw the strained expression on her face as she swung around to close the door. Apparently the meeting with Hildebrand had not gone well.
    “Whew.” Cleo shut the door and ran her fingers through her wet hair. “It's pouring out there. Everything all right in here, Sylvia?”
    “No, everything is not all right,” Valence said before Sylvia could respond. “The power is off. I want it fixed immediately. I'm trying to run a seminar, as you well know, Ms. Robbins. I've got a reputation for flawless performance, and I simply cannot work without electricity.”
    Max watched as Cleo summoned up her innkeeper's soothing smile. “Yes, of course, Mr. Valence. We'll get someone on it right away.”
    “I'm already on it.” Max held up the flashlight.
    Cleo's gaze flashed to his face. “I thought you'd be gone by now.”
    “Whatever gave you that idea? You just hired me.”
    Cleo looked as if she badly wanted to respond to that, but Valence's presence forced her to restrain herself. “What do you think you're doing?”
    “I'm going down to the basement to check the fuse box. Any objections?” Max waited politely.
    Cleo set her jaw. “I'll come with you.”
    “I think I can handle this on my own,” Max said.
    “I said I'll come with you.” Cleo managed another serene smile for Valence. “Just give us a few minutes, Mr. Valence. I'm sure we'll have everything back under control very soon.”
    “I should hope so,” Valence muttered. “My time is extremely valuable. I can't afford to waste it sitting around waiting for someone to turn on the electricity.” He shot one last annoyed glance at Max as he stalked back down the hall to the parlor.
    Max watched Valence disappear. “Did you know he's incredible?” he said to Cleo. “Also amazing.”
    “What on earth are you talking about? Here, give me that.” She snatched the flashlight out of his hand and strode down the hall to the door that opened on to the basement stairs. “Why aren't you gone?”
    “There are a number of reasons,” Max opened the door and surveyed the inky depths of a vast basement. “One of which is that I haven't apologized for the small misunderstanding we had at breakfast.”
    “It was not a small misunderstanding.” Cleo switched on the flashlight and started down the basement stairs. She still had the paper sack tucked under her arm. “You were rude, crude, and obnoxious.”
    “You may be right.” Max's cane tapped softly on each step as he followed Cleo downstairs. “However, I'd like the chance to apologize for assuming you were Jason's mistress.”
    “A gold-digging mistress.” Cleo reached the foot of the stairs and swept the beam of light around the crowded basement.
    “All right,” Max said patiently. “I apologize for assuming you were his gold-digging mistress.”
    “Okay, you've apologized. Now you can leave.”
    Max took a tight grip on his hawk-headed cane. She was not going to get rid of him this easily. She still had his Amos Luttrells. “I'm afraid I can't leave just yet.”
    Cleo crossed the room to the circuit-breaker panel. “Why not?”
    “I told you last night. I need the arrangement you're offering. I don't have another job.”
    She turned away and concentrated