In A Heartbeat (28 page)

“I won’t lie to you, Angie. I’ve never reneged on a promise. I—”

“Get out.”

“You can hate me if you want—”

“I do.”

Her contempt reduced him to fish bait. He cast about looking for words that would win her favor again. Even the dog looked at him with disdain. She couldn’t toss him out of her life like that. He wouldn’t let her. “But you still need a job.”

“I can always drive for my brother.”

“Your brother will let you drive with a cast on your leg?” He thought he had her, until he noticed she was no longer wearing the plastic cast.

“My ankle is strong enough,” she insisted.

“Come work for me, Angie,” he pleaded. Heck, he’d get on his knees if he had to. “Max said you had some concerns about Hayden’s operations. The financial ratios show something isn’t right. Together, we can—”

“Together?” Her laugh turned into a choking fit.

“If you want, I won’t talk to you. I’ll avoid you like the flu,” he pleaded. “Everyone at Hayden will think we hate each other. Whatever you want.”

“I want you to leave. Now.”

She’d rejected him. He had played his trump card and she still rejected him. There wasn’t anything else to say. She tossed back the quilt in a struggle to stand, but he restrained her.

“Relax. I’ll go. You don’t have to get up.” He headed for the door. With one final swallow of pride, he turned back. “If you change your mind about the job, be at my office Monday morning, eight o’clock.” He let himself out.

AFTER HE LEFT, Angie slumped on the sofa. Did he really expect she could work with him after all that had happened? It was hard enough to see him today without falling into his arms and weeping over the loss of her job and the breaking of her heart. Every time he spoke, she watched his lips, the same lips that had explored her so intimately and thoroughly just a few nights ago. At one point, she had closed her eyes so the sight of him couldn’t tempt her. Instead, the loss of sight reminded her of that silly mask. A tingling tension had raced from the tips of her breasts to the depths of her womb. And he expected her to forget everything? To forget her own humiliation at his engagement? The idea was ludicrous. Infuriating.

Obviously he would do anything for money, even marry someone he didn’t love. But she had standards, she had pride, she had…no job, no promotion, no life. Tears welled up in her eyes again. How could her entire world disintegrate in such a short period of time?

The doorbell rang. Angie straightened, pulling her robe lapels together at her neck. He came back! She wiped the wetness from her cheeks, her imagination racing faster than her feet. He came back to apologize and tell her he could never marry Elizabeth, that she was the only one he could ever love.

Opening the front door wide, she looked for a broad shouldered, commanding, sensual man, but found instead a six-year-old, curly-haired child dressed as a pumpkin.

“Trick or treat.”

Angie glanced beyond the orange and green costume to see a mother frowning at her from the driveway. She pulled the lapels of her robe tight. Beggar’s night. Westerville always set aside a special night for the door-to-door ritual and this apparently was it.

“Just a minute,” she said to the little girl before turning back into the house. What to do? She hadn’t purchased any candy for the occasion and her mother never kept sweets in the house. She saw her purse and retrieved her wallet. Returning to the front door, she plunked two quarters in the little girl’s plastic pumpkin, already partially filled with candy.

“Thank you,” the pumpkin said before carefully negotiating the steps off the porch to rejoin her mother.

Angie stepped out on the porch and saw a long procession of costumed children down the street dashing from house-to-house.
Why tonight?
She moaned.
I’m not ready for this.

Tell that to all those little expectant faces, her subconscious lectured. They don’t care about your personal problems. Life goes on.

She dashed upstairs, quickly changing into jeans and a heavy sweater before running next door to beg for some of Walter’s candy. Fortunately, he was well stocked.

Armed with a bowl of brightly wrapped chocolates, she sat on her porch and dispersed the candy to the parade of imaginatively attired children. One little girl, dressed in a store-bought fairy costume, received a fistful of candy, rather than the tightly rationed portions handed out to her peers. Angie’s fairy costume may have been more expensive, but she recognized the sparkle of magic in the girl’s eyes that she herself had felt the evening of the ball.

As the cardboard wings flounced off the porch, Angie reflected on the gifts Hank had unknowingly given her, the memories of things she might not otherwise have experienced. It was time to stop weeping about what might have been and allow her life to go on. Her steady heartbeat sounded its approval, and she relaxed for the first time in days.

Headlights moved slowly down the street before turning sharply into her driveway. A white limousine glowed softly in the moonlight. The front passenger door opened and her mother stepped out.

“Mom” Angela set the bowl with the dwindling supply of candy aside and rushed to hug her mother. “I didn’t know you were coming back today.”

“Aunt Cecilia couldn’t take her anymore,” Stephen quipped from the other side of the car.

Her mother squeezed her tight, then set her back a pace. “Let me take a look at you. Did you take your medications? Are you feeling all right?” Her eyes narrowed. “You look different, somehow. Older.”

Angie could feel her cheeks warming even in the cool night air. “Probably just the moonlight.”

“You’re probably right.” Her mother laughed. “How much can a person age in a month?”

More than you would suspect
, Angie silently answered. “How was your trip?” Stephen pulled some suitcases from the back and joined them as they walked toward the house.

“Wonderful,” her mother answered. “Cecilia mended quickly and we got to spend time together. Plus, I took orders for three quilts while there. Isn’t that wonderful?” She squeezed Angie’s hand. “You know we can always use the money.”

Reality settled over Angie like a shroud. The loss of her job meant the loss of her health insurance and coverage for her expensive medications. The sale of a few quilts wouldn’t begin to cover their needs.

“Mom,” she said, quietly. “We need to talk…”

Chapter Twenty-Three

ANGIE ANGLED HER car into Hayden’s employee parking lot. The prospect of eating crow in front of Hank Renard curdled in her stomach. Stephen couldn’t offer her the insurance benefits her transplant required even if she worked full-time. Raymond worked for him now and Raymond’s medical needs weren’t nearly as demanding as her own. She took a deep breath and stepped from her Civic, tightening her coat against a frigid wind.

“Angela, what are you doing here?” Tom Wilson loomed at her elbow. “I thought you had finished everything for now.”

“We did…are,” she stammered, wishing she had checked the rearview mirror before exiting her car. She hadn’t quite worked out how to explain her presence. “I…I just wanted to clear up a few points with Mr. Renard.”

“Are you sure it’s not something I can help you with?” he asked smoothly. “Henry hasn’t recovered from his trip last week. He has a very full schedule.”

“He’s expecting me,” Angie said, scolding herself for not parking in the visitors’ lot. If she had, she’d be inside the building by now.

“Is he really?”

Was that surprise or sarcasm she heard in Wilson’s voice?

“He didn’t say anything to me about a morning appointment,” he said.

“I didn’t know you functioned as his secretary,” Angela said, quickening her steps to the entrance.

He laughed, little puffs of heated air lifted above his head. “I guess I deserved that. I meant to say that I also have a morning meeting with Henry. I didn’t realize he was so tightly scheduled.”

Angela reached for the door handle, but Wilson beat her to it. He held it open and she mumbled her thanks as she passed into the warmth of the building interior.

“Stop by before you leave, Angie,” Tom said behind her. “I found some of those missing documents you requested.” He turned down the hall toward the accounting department.

Angie slipped out of her coat, then tossed it over her arm. The receptionist hadn’t arrived yet, so Angie walked unannounced toward Hank’s office. Would he gloat when he saw her? Would he retract his offer of employment? Her heart pounded with each step. Was she a fool for coming here?

She reached his office door and raised her hand to knock when the door opened from the inside. Her gaze rose from his broad chest filling the doorway to the talented lips that filled her dreams. She smiled weakly.

“You said something about a job?”

“Angie!” Hank latched onto her arm and roughly pulled her into the office. He held her at arm’s length a moment, then awkwardly crammed his hands into his pockets.

“I thought you’d decided to work for your brother.” He slipped behind his desk, then picked up a silver pen and tapped it on the desk.

“I changed my mind,” she lied. He didn’t need to know Stephen refused to hire her fulltime. “You were right when you said I should do something accounting related. That is, after all, what I’ve been trained for.” She placed her coat over the back of a chair then clasped her hands behind her back, unsure what else to do with them. Holding her breath, she forced her gaze to travel from the knot of his necktie, past his smile to his eyes. Even as she tried to suppress it, desire surged through her blood. Her knees threatened to buckle. “Do you still want me?”

A hungry smile unfolded slowly. His dimple flashed, his eyes crinkled. “More than ever.” He moved toward her with outstretched arms.

She stepped out of his reach. “I mean for the job.” Her heart pounded in her throat, raising her voice an octave. “Is it still available?”

He hesitated a moment, the smile faded. He returned to his desk to closely examine the pen. “We have to iron out some details, but, yes”— his gaze raised to hers—“It’s still available.”

“What kind of details?” Her eyes narrowed.

“Salary. Duties. Title. Whether or not you still hate me.”

“I do.”

He winced ever so slightly. The reaction didn’t give her the pleasure she thought it might.

“Then this is strictly business?”

“If I’m to work here, yes.”

He exhaled audibly, then invited her sit. “You never told me about your excursion with Max. What were you after?”

“I’d rather not say. I was following a hunch. Something I needed to check for myself. But as we didn’t find what I was looking for, there’s no point rehashing the whole thing.” If she was to work with these people on a full time basis, she’d best not burn bridges by verbalizing her suspicions.

“The reason I ask is that I’ve had a few ‘hunches’ myself,” he said, abandoning his pen and focusing all his attention on her. “I think I mentioned that the inventory turnover statistics aren’t close to the industry norms. I should be seeing stockpiles of excess inventory in the warehouse, and I’m not.”

“You think someone is stealing?” She leaned forward, preferring to discuss accounting issues than their previous meeting. That was just too painful.

He nodded. “I don’t know who or how. But I think maybe you’ve come to a similar conclusion.”

“We noticed some aberrations in your accounts payable. Nothing really obvious, but suspicious. That’s what Max and I went to check out, but, as I said, we didn’t find anything.”

“Here’s my plan.” He moved to the chair next to her. “I want to hire you to investigate any evidence of fraud or misappropriation of assets. You’ll report directly to me.”

“I’ll need some sort of title. People will ask.” Plus, she really wanted to know herself.

“Director of Internal Audit.” He chuckled beneath his breath. “Maybe that’ll scare the guilty party and flush them out. Are you game?”

She cleared her throat. “What about compensation?”

“Falstaff told me how much they were paying you.”

Nothing, apparently, about her life was private, she thought disgruntled.

“I’ll increase your pay by fifteen percent and pick up your insurance payments until you’re covered under our plan,” he said. “You can work out the details with the personnel department.”

Fifteen percent! She couldn’t argue with that, which was a good thing as she wasn’t certain she could speak! She struggled not to smile. “My office?” she managed. “Where do I work?”

“That’s a tough one.” He thought for a moment. “For now you can use Jim Owens’s office next door.”

She nodded and looked about uncertain what to do next.

“Angie.”

She turned. His voice had lost its hard executive edge.

“I’m glad you decided to accept my offer. I’m sorry for what happened, but that’s not the reason I’m hiring you. I really do need your expertise.”

She tried to clear the lump that had suddenly taken residence in her throat. “I guess I should get started then.” She stood and walked toward the door.

“I understand it’s a tradition here that the boss takes new hires to lunch on their first day,” Hank said.

His lips twisted in that sideways smile she loved. An ache formed in her chest. It wasn’t going to be easy working so close to him.

“Tradition?” She asked. “When did this tradition start?”

“Today.” He grinned and opened the office door.

Angie stepped into the hallway noticing Tom Wilson bustling up the hallway toward them.

“I’ll see you about eleven-thirty, then?” Wilson joined them. “Tom,” Hank turned his attention to the newcomer. “I want you to meet our new internal auditor.”

“Angie?” Surprise spread across Wilson’s face. “You’re going to be working here?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I guess that means we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.”

“But what happened to Falstaff and Watterson?”

“Mr. Renard made an offer I couldn’t refuse.” She turned toward Hank. “I’m afraid, however, that I’ll have to decline your offer of lunch.”