by Iris Morland
“Sure, I do. I do it all the time.”
He shook his head, chuckling. “Okay, but never for free.”
Crossing her arms, she looked away from him, because she knew he was right.
“Have dinner with me.” At her exasperated look, he added, “Lunch. Hell, breakfast. Breakfast is the most platonic meal of the day.”
Her lips quirked in the first smile she’d given him. He refused to wonder why that mattered so much to him.
“You are so annoying.” She started walking back to her car.
“Is that a yes?”
“No!”
“Is that a no?”
“No!”
That made him laugh. “How about I pick you up tomorrow night for dinner? Does seven work?”
“I thought we were doing breakfast.”
“Lunch, then.”
She laughed. “Fine, fine! What’s your number? I’ll text you so you have mine.”
Ash wanted to whoop and tell everyone in the damn neighborhood that he’d gotten Violet’s phone number. He’d known she hadn’t been uninterested, and when she opened her car door, she sent him a sultry look under her lashes that set his whole body ablaze.
“If it’s not a date, then what is it?” Martha asked as Violet got ready for her lunch-date-that-wasn’t-a-date the following day. “Because I’m pretty sure going out with a man is a date. Wait, is he gay? Is that it?”
Violet laughed. “No, he’s not gay. It just isn’t a date. We’re friends.”
“Well, you sure are wearing a nice outfit for a friend.” Martha tittered as she left Violet to finish primping.
It’s not a date if I say it isn’t, Violet kept telling herself even as anticipation simmered in her blood. Running into Ash yesterday had been a disaster, yet when she’d realized that he’d been totally sincere and, God almighty, that he’d been hurt at her running out on him... she couldn’t have been more amazed if someone had told her aliens had landed on her front lawn.
But today was just lunch. Sedate, normal, platonic lunch. Nobody could get hot and bothered over a turkey sandwich. Then again, this was Ash Younger. He could probably get a woman hot and bothered with a bologna sandwich if he so much as sent her a heated look.
“I’m heading out. Have fun! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!” called Martha as she left for her own lunch date with Dennis. Not only was it going to be a lunch date, but Martha and Dennis were going to some bingo game that would last all afternoon and apparently had some huge prizes if you won.
Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on the front door. Expecting Ash, Violet opened the door with a huge smile that soon deflated when she saw that it wasn’t Ash. It was a total stranger. And he didn’t look particularly nice, either.
“Is there a Violet Fielding in residence?”
“That’s me. Is something wrong?”
He handed her a document that read SUMMONS at the top in huge black letters. “I don’t understand,” she said weakly.
“You’ve been summoned. Everything you’ll need to know is in the document. Have a nice afternoon.”
Violet could only nod, totally flabbergasted. She knew she’d gotten behind on her payments for her business loan, but a lawsuit? Terror shot through her as she read the summons. The legal jargon made her head hurt until she just wanted to slump onto the floor, roll up into a ball, and cry her eyes out.
But apparently today could only go from bad to worse. As she was about to close her door, she heard footsteps and watched in horror as Ash walked up to the house. Based on his expression, he’d seen—and probably had heard—everything.
Violet wanted to melt into the floor. She wanted to slam the door, lock it, and never ever come out again. She didn’t need Ash pitying her, or worse, judging her.
The summons document was crumpled in Violet’s hand when Ash approached her, his forehead creased.
“Did you hear all of that?” she asked hoarsely.
He nodded, grimacing. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop—I’d just gotten out of my car and I saw you had someone at your door—”
“It’s fine. What does it matter that you got to watch one of the most humiliating moments of my life?” She laughed, but it was a bitter sound. “I’m an asshole, but I don’t think I’d be good company for lunch today. Can I get a rain check?”
“What? Yes, of course.” To Violet’s dismay, Ash didn’t turn around and leave: he followed her inside the house and into the living room. “I’m assuming you were served with a lawsuit?”
She handed him the notice. “Might as well know everything. I can’t be any more embarrassed than I am already.”
Ash took it gingerly and as he scanned the words, his forehead creased even more, his eyes narrowed. “How much are you in debt, Violet?”
“I don’t know.” She collapsed onto the couch and rubbed her temples. “Last time I checked it was close to thirty thousand, but I haven’t looked in a while.”
“How long is ‘a while’?”
She grimaced. “Six months?”
“Jesus.” He sat down on the couch next to her and set the summons on the coffee table. “You can’t ignore debt. It doesn’t just disappear.”
“I’m well aware. I’m not saying it was a good decision.” Under her breath, she muttered, “I seem to make a lot of bad decisions lately.”
Ash didn’t take the bait, though. “How long has this been going on? Do you have enough funds for a lawyer?”
She had a feeling setting herself on fire would be preferable to this conversation.
I told you this wasn’t a good idea. William’s words echoed inside her mid, making her stomach knot. He’d never loved the idea of her starting her own business because he had known very well her money management skills were lacking. When they’d married, she’d had credit card debt that had grown large enough that it had made it difficult for them to buy a house until they’d paid it off. William had been afraid she’d destroy the credit they’d worked so hard to build if she started a business. He’d only agreed to sign off on a business loan if she let him manage the books.
After William had died, the books had fallen to her. And look what had happened: she was being sued by a collection agency for not paying her loan back.
“If I had money for a lawyer, I’d have money to pay off my debt, wouldn’t I?” Realizing she sounded like a jerk, she sighed. “I’m sorry. This isn’t your problem and you don’t need to hear me bitching and moaning.” She sent him a tremulous smile. “I’ll figure it out. I always do.”
Ash was silent for so long that a prickle of unease ran up Violet’s spine.
“Who’s doing your books?” he finally asked.
“I am, and badly. Numbers have never been my strength. I can sell jewelry and make money, but then somehow the money seems to just...disappear.” She frowned and then groaned. “I don’t even have a retail location! You wouldn’t think this would be so hard.”
“True, but you have inventory, shipping costs, production costs. You run a website too, right?” He stroked his chin. “I can look at your books, if you’d like. I can at least figure out a way for you to budget so you can pay off this loan.”
Her heart flip-flopped. “Ash, that’s very sweet, but I can’t afford to pay for an accountant right now. I can barely keep my head above water as it is. And you have your own job managing your brother’s books—I can’t ask you to take time away from that.”
“I’d do it for free. I wouldn’t charge you a dime, especially if I can’t guarantee I can really make any difference.” His voice was gentle—so gentle that Violet almost couldn’t believe this was the same man who’d refused to take no for an answer yesterday afternoon. The same man who’d accused her of being too scared to look what they had in the face.
“I can’t ask you to do that. It’s too much,” she protested.
“You aren’t asking me: I’m offering.” He smiled wryly. “And what is there to lose?”
“It’s not that. It
’s that you’ll be working for free when I doubt you have the time to spare.”
“Trent will survive. I just won’t tell him.”
Violet rubbed her damp palms against her jeans. God, if Ash could help her, if she could get out from under this without drowning? The thought was unimaginable, and yet, now it seemed almost within reach with him offering to help. A lump formed in her throat.
She took a shaky breath. “Okay, then yes. I’d love for you to look over my books, although I warn you, the last two years of them are a mess.”
His smile was radiant, and it sent a frisson of heat through Violet’s body. That smile of his could make her do anything he wanted. She hated that she was so weak for him still.
Ash said, “Great. Stop by my office at the Fainting Goat this week with everything. I’m usually in during the afternoons. We’ll figure this out. In the meantime, you should call the collection agency and try to get terms for repayment. Tell them you can pay a small amount every month. If they can get any money from you, they will. They prefer that to messing with a lawsuit and getting no money.”
Hope was a dangerous emotion right now, but she let herself enjoy it—for now. “Thank you, I will. If it’s okay, I’ll work on that this afternoon instead of going to lunch.”
“Then that just means you owe me dinner later,” he said, touching her shoulder with an encouraging smile.
8
Ash swore when he couldn’t find the green folder with the documents he needed. He shuffled through the twenty other folders on his desk and the seemingly endless piles of papers, getting to the point where he was tempted to dump everything onto the floor and set it on fire.
It was twelve fifty in the afternoon, and Violet had texted him two hours prior to say she would be stopping by with her books by one o’clock. He’d glanced at his watch at least half a dozen times since then. 12:51. Nine minutes to find this folder for Trent so he wouldn’t be lurking when Violet arrived. The last thing Ash needed was his older brother sticking his giant nose into his business, which was one of Trent’s favorite things to do.
“Hey, do you have that folder yet? Whoa, what the hell happened in here?” Trent surveyed the mess on Ash’s desk. “Don’t you have bins and shit to organize this stuff? How much am I paying you anyway?”
“You’re paying me nothing, as you know, and when you have twenty thousand pieces of paper and folders, two bins isn’t going to make a damn bit of difference.” When Ash moved a cup of cold coffee off a piece of paper, he found the green folder he’d been searching for. “Here it is,” he said as he handed the folder to Trent. “Take it.”
“A little tense today? Was something up with our tax return?”
“No, that’s fine. It’s got nothing to do with the books here, actually. Everything was in order and I sent it all to the IRS without a hitch.”
When Ash heard footsteps in the hallway, he tensed, waiting for Violet to come around the corner. But it was just one of the sous chefs going to the restroom.
Ash hadn’t planned on offering to look over Violet’s books when he’d overheard her receiving that summons. He wasn’t hardhearted, but he wasn’t particularly into charity, either. Yet when he’d seen the humiliation and despair in her eyes, he’d wanted to do anything in his power to eradicate them from her gaze. He’d offered to look at her books before he’d even considered why Violet’s happiness mattered so much to him.
“Wait, if this isn’t about work, then what is it about?” Trent folded his arms across his chest. Ever since he’d gotten married and had a kid, Trent’s fatherly shtick with his younger siblings had only worsened. Ash wished his older brother would stop meddling in his life for once.
“None of your damn business.” Ash stuffed some folders into a drawer so his desk didn’t look so messy. It only slightly worked.
“You’re growly, grumpy, and you have circles under your eyes.” Trent’s eyes narrowed. “It’s a woman, isn’t it?”
When Ash refused to answer, Trent laughed. “Oh, how the tables have turned! You were on my ass for getting back together with Lizzie, and now here you are, practically ripping your hair out over a woman. This is amazing.”
Ash glared up at Trent. “Are you done yet?”
“Hell no. I’m just getting started. Who is it?” When Ash flipped him off, Trent just shrugged. “I’ll get it out of you eventually. Better yet, I’ll ask Thea, who probably knows the woman’s Social Security number at this point. Can I give you some advice?”
“No,” was Ash’s deadpan reply.
“If you really like her, don’t fuck it up. Think before you act.”
“Wow, great advice! Oh wait, except I’m not the one who accidentally got a woman pregnant twice.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Violet stepped just inside the door, holding her purse close to her side.
Ash had to bite back laughter at the blush creeping onto Trent’s cheeks. Ash knew his older brother would get revenge for Ash’s remark, but Ash didn’t care about anything Trent could do to him. His entire focus was on Violet.
“No, you’re not interrupting,” said Ash smoothly. “My brother was just leaving.”
“I’m Trent Younger.” Trent held out his hand, shaking Violet’s with a slight divot in his forehead now. “Have I met you before?”
“Yes, at your house. Your wife hosted my jewelry party.”
“Oh, of course. I’m terrible with names and faces.” He grinned self-deprecatingly.
“There were a lot of people there.” Violet smiled as she added, “You have a lovely restaurant.”
“I don’t know if I’d call throwing out drunks at three a.m. lovely, but thank you.” Trent sent Ash a look that said this isn’t over before departing.
Ash shut the door and motioned for Violet to sit. “I should’ve asked—do you want anything to drink? Water, coffee?”
“No, I’m fine.” She still clutched her bag, and her gaze darted around his office. If the tension in her shoulders indicated anything, she was definitely not excited to be here. “I just realized that I can’t accept your offer. I mean, it’s almost tax day. You have to be completely slammed with work here.”
He smiled gently at her. “No, I’ve already filed everything. I prefer to get everything in before the deadline.”
“Oh.” She deflated. “Well, if you’re sure—”
“I’m sure, but are you? Did something else happen?”
Violet shook her head. “No, nothing. At least, nothing bad.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m sorry. I sound like such an ungrateful ninny. I really appreciate you offering to help. Even if you do have time, it’s still work.” Opening her purse, she began pulling out folders, papers, receipts, and a few USB drives, placing them on Ash’s desk. “That’s everything.”
He flipped through some of the documents, many of which were handwritten. Jesus, was this a receipt tallied on a napkin? Nothing was in order, and many of the documents had no dates on them. He sighed inwardly, but seeing this mess only proved that he’d done the right thing in offering to help Violet.
“My husband, he did the books before he passed away. I think everything should be scanned and uploaded onto the USB drives, but I haven’t checked. That doesn’t include the last two years, though. I’m afraid all of this is my mess. It just got out of hand, and when things get overwhelming I tend to ignore them.”
“I understand. I’ll start putting things in order, although I’ll probably need your help with deciphering some of these notes.” He peered more closely at another handwritten note. “Is this your husband’s handwriting? It looks too messy for a woman’s.”
She peered at the note then laughed. “No, that’s my handwriting. Did I mention my handwriting is basically chicken scratch?”
Ash’s head was starting to hurt, looking at this huge mess on his desk, but Violet’s hopeful expression was all he needed to convince himself how important this all was.
“I’ll get sta
rted on this this afternoon. Like I said before, I can’t guarantee that I can figure out what’s going on or offer any advice, but at least you’ll be organized going forward.”
“That’s enough for me. You’ve taken a huge weight off my shoulders. I really appreciate it. Thank you.”
It wasn’t very often someone expressed gratitude so sincerely for something he’d done for them. You’re getting in deep here, his mind said. Do you know what you’re doing?
No, but fuck me if I care.
Yes, he was helping out someone who needed it. If that person just so happened to be the woman he’d slept with a month ago and then couldn’t stop thinking about when she’d basically disappeared, well, he’d deal with it.
“You’re welcome. Were you able to get a payment plan in place?” he asked.
“Yes, and thank you for the suggestion. They said as long as I paid a set amount each month, they wouldn’t pursue the lawsuit further. I just have to scrimp and save, which I was already doing.” She blew out a breath. “It wasn’t like this when my husband was alive, I promise.”
Ash was sorting through the mound of documents she’d handed him, although at the mention of her husband, his ears perked up. What kind of a man had Violet fallen for and married? He was suddenly beyond curious—but just curious. There was no other reason why he’d want to know about her husband.
“How long were you married?” He asked the question casually as he began sorting. “It can’t have been that long, considering how young you are.”
“Such a flatterer. We were married for eight years. We met in college, got engaged after graduation, and then were married.” Her smile was sad. “He was the love of my life.”
Ash barely restrained a flinch at that declaration. Christ, why does it matter? Of course she loved her husband, you idiot.
