ADAM CASE didn t like interviews.<br > Put him in a board room， put him in a lecture hall， put him<br >on a conference call with Hong Kong， he s fine. Put a camera<br >in front of him and make him sit still under the unforgiving<br >light， and he s liable to sweat straight through his shirt. At over<br >six feet tall and two-hundred twenty pounds he didn t look like<br >the kind of guy who d get shaken so easily.<br > He had accomplished a lot. He knew that. The fact that<br >he was barely in his thirties made him into what his literary<br >agent often referred to as a "golden boy." But then again， he<br >owned Case Publishing， the company that she worked for.<br >How reliable， then， was her opinion of his achievements?<br > That was the kind of thinking he was supposed to stay<br >away from. His therapist， Dr. Berk， had always been quick to<br >point out these types of cynical assumptions. "Though we<br >must always be aware of our own motives，" he d say. "We must<br >also be aware of the true motives of others. Assuming that oth-<br >ers say nice things only for their own benefit is a one-way tick-<br >et to cynicism."<br > But Adam wasn t cynical. He was objective.<br > The reporter sitting across from him was experienced，<br >determined and still beautiful at forty-eight， though she<br ><br >