Amanda’s expression went stony, then considering. “He went to you?”
Sadie rubbed her eyes carefully, conscious of the mascara she didn’t want smeared all over her face. “Yes. It’s like I said, though. He’s hung up on this idea of redemption, but I’m not what he thinks I am. I’m not his salvation. Neither are you. We’re just women, you know? Neither one of us can cleanse him of his guilt or undo his mistakes.”
Amanda opened her mouth to reply when Wes strode through the door and froze.
“What are you two doing in my office?” His dark gaze swung from Sadie to Amanda and back.
Sadie’s nerves couldn’t take much more. Between dumping Blake’s past into Amanda’s unsuspecting lap like a bowl of wet noodles and Wes busting them in his office, she couldn’t do anything but wait for Amanda to drop her like a hot rock.
The moment suspended in time like stretched putty.
Amanda’s gaze drilled so hard into Sadie she could almost feel the scrutiny hit the back of her skull, and Wes’s eyebrows, thin and over-plucked as ever, formed a deep, suspicious V.
Finally, Amanda looked at Wes. “I borrowed your office to have a private moment with Sadie.”
Sadie almost wilted with relief. Oh, Amanda. Bless your strange, strange heart.
“Yeah?” Wes set his hands on his hips in a cocky fashion. “What’s wrong with having a private moment in Sadie’s office?”
“You were late turning in your budget report this morning.” Amanda didn’t skip a beat. “I asked her to accompany me to retrieve it from your desk.” At that, she delicately tapped a sheet sitting on Wes’s desk. Sure enough, his budget report, lacking only a signature. “If you wouldn’t mind?”
That did the trick. Wes came around his desk, took a fine pen from his breast pocket, and signed the report with a flourish, looking only a tad sheepish as he handed it to Amanda. “I apologize. I had some errands to run this morning. They took longer than I expected.”
Straight-faced, Amanda took the report like it was money he owed her, tucking it possessively into the folder in her hand. “No harm, no foul. Actually…” She turned to Sadie then. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to talk to Wes.” Her gaze darted to the door and back. “Alone.”
If Sadie could take anything, it was a hint. She saluted, a dumb little motion that probably gave her away a thousand times over. “Gotcha. See you later then.”
She didn’t need an excuse to walk away from Wes’s office as quickly as her heeled boots allowed. But she couldn’t help sneaking one final glance at Amanda and Wes as the door closed on their private conversation.
What could a megalomaniac and a bridge troll have to talk about?
* * * *
Blake stared at the text message on his phone.
Part of him was shocked he’d said anything at all, and the rest of him didn’t understand why he hadn’t done it sooner. Sooner as in five years ago.
I forgave you when I met Jack.
The sentiment was nice, but Quinn’s message still hit him like a punch to the gut. In the years since Jack had entered their family, Blake and Quinn had done their best to remain friendly and cordial for Seth’s sake. Blake had manned up and become the kind of father Seth needed, because if he hadn’t, Jack would have.
But no one ever discussed the affair. In small ways throughout the next several years, they’d become something of friends, but Blake never brought up Kira or Hunter and never asked Quinn if she forgave him for ruining their lives. Then again, he hadn’t so much ruined her life as set her free to find Jack.
Why couldn’t it work the same way for him? Last night, he finally broke down and asked Quinn in the most passive manner possible—with a cowardly text message—if she’d forgiven him and did she believe he was a different man than the one who’d snuck into supply closets with another woman at the office.
Her first message: I’d be proud to call you my husband today, Blake. Jack read that over my shoulder and frowned deeply, but he gets it. You aren’t the same person you were. Please, for all our sakes, get over it and forgive yourself.
He’d smiled, reading that. He’d spent a lot of time daydreaming of his old life. Quinn at his side, entertaining clients from the office with talk of her writing process. He hadn’t been proud of her then, only glad she had some value in impressing his high-flying clients who were all Clementine Hazel fans. Quinn had been a decorative piece, pretty to look at and useful at times.
He’d been crazy about her for most of his life, but one day she faded into the background like gray wallpaper. He found himself not caring about the things she talked about or how she might feel. And that was before Kira came along.
Okay, so maybe his old life hadn’t been all that great. It included an affair, a nonexistent relationship with his son, and a wall between him and his wife that kept him from seeing her completely. Sometimes, he found it easy to blame Quinn. She was smart and self-reliant, elegant and the coolest customer around, as smooth and poised as the loveliest swan. Kira had been exciting. Fun and intriguing. He never knew what she’d say next or where she’d want to go. She was a lot like—
An image of Sadie popped into his mind.
Damn it. Blake dropped his head on the desk, letting it fall heavily. He deserved the resounding smack of pain. He squeezed his eyes shut. How in the hell could Sadie still remind him of Kira? How could she have the best qualities of two polar-opposite women?
And how could he fall for someone so perplexing when he’d come all this way to get away from complication?
He lifted his head at the quiet knock on his door.
Kennedy poked her head inside. She didn’t react to his position, head hovering close to his desk, or what had to be a big round red mark on his forehead. It still tingled from whacking against the desk. “Nina’s ready for her meeting with you.”
Blake sat up and straightened his tie. “Lovely. Send her in, please.”
Kennedy nodded and disappeared.
Nina entered seconds later, closing the door behind her and shuffling over to take a seat opposite Blake.
He checked his notes and dove right in. “Good morning, Nina. I just have a quick question for you.”
“Of course, hon. You go on and ask anything you need to.”
Right. He thought carefully on how to phrase the questions so he’d garner more information than he gave away. “Amanda mentioned being in Duncan’s office a while back. This would’ve been shortly after I was hired. You weren’t at your desk at the time. Something about going out for coffee?”
Nina nodded seriously. “That’s right. The coffeemaker upstairs went kaput, and Duncan was out. I knew he’d want a cup when he returned, so out I went to get him some from Pearl Street Bagels just down the road here. Have you been yet? They’re fabulous. I could take you some time.” She laughed and covered her heart with her hand. “Oh, but what am I thinking? You’ve got better offers than that, I bet.”
Then she winked.
Blake longed to whack his head onto his desk again. Instead, he smiled benignly. “That’ll be all, Nina. Thanks.”
“You sure?” True concern scrunched her features. “Nothing went missing, did it? Mr. Perry’s got some nice things upstairs. Antiques and such.”
Blake gave her a reassuring smile. “Of course not. We’re just trying to pin down some missing paperwork.” In a manner of speaking.
She left and Blake rubbed the nape of his neck.
So far, he’d confirmed Duncan’s office had been left unattended for a short time, meaning potential access to any number of company portals. The money could’ve bounced around from account to account and, in such small increments, it’d never get noticed. He had Amanda at the scene, and Amanda put Wes there. Blake needed something to give and break the case, because the paper trail had seemingly dead-ended.
Unfortunately, it stopped in exactly the right place to implicate Amanda. The more the evidence pointed to he
r, the more certain Blake became that it was intentional. Then again, the money never lied. And it definitely didn’t disappear without a trace. Yet, no withdrawals matching the missing funds were in any of the balance sheets or reports he’d gone over so far.
By the time Wes arrived for his turn at questioning late in the afternoon, Blake had a headache blooming in his left temple, and the numbers on the numerous printouts he doggedly perused had blurred into a mass of sticks and squiggles, no longer holding meaning.
Wes wore an amused smirk.
Did he know why he’d been asked to Blake’s office? Perhaps the time had come for laying out the cards. Blake didn’t have the time or, frankly, the inclination to get prior approval from Duncan or Mrs. Avery.
He sat forward and clasped his hands together, studying Wes over the ridge of his interlaced fingers. “I don’t find much funny about embezzlement, personally.” He shrugged. “But if it amuses you, I’d like to hear more.”
The asinine smile fell away. Wes’s throat bobbed with a great nervous swallow. “I-I thought this was about Sadie.” He leaned toward Blake, suddenly nervous and unsure. “You’re saying someone is stealing from Avery & Thorp? That’s…” His eyes widened, and he glanced beyond Blake at the far wall. “That’s absurd. There’s not a single person I would point the finger at.” He blinked rapidly and met Blake’s gaze once again.
Blake nodded solemnly. “That’s part of the problem. No one seems to have a personal financial motive, and the paper trails dead-ends in a… Well, we’ll call it an unlikely location, more apt to be a red herring than a true indication of who’s responsible. For some reason, Amanda’s being targeted as the culprit.” Blake watched Wes carefully for his reaction.
He squinted in concentration, then snapped his fingers and sat back as though he’d managed to figure it all out in three seconds of passing consideration. “Sadie,” he said simply.
Blake didn’t laugh, but he did sigh. “I doubt it.”
“Why? Because you’re into her?” Wes’s eyes were like pools of tar.
Blake didn’t know how Sadie could’ve stood a relationship with this guy, when mere eye contact elicited an ew from Blake’s inner voice. “It’s not for you to question the audit director, Mr. Black.”
Wes blinked and backed down, glancing sheepishly at Blake’s desk.
Nothing like pulling rank to remind a mere accountant where he sat on the totem pole. “I understand you were in Mr. Perry’s office during a time when he was not. Nina was also not at her desk. May I ask what you were doing?”
Again, Wes swallowed nervously. “It’s not what it looks like. I wasn’t alone—”
“I’m aware Amanda entered the office behind you. And what it looks like doesn’t concern me nearly as much as what it actually was.” He stared at Wes, openly waiting for an explanation.
Wes licked his lips. “Fine. I was looking for clues, okay? It was right after Duncan announced his resignation and the Castley account was assigned to Catalina. This was maybe a week or two later. I didn’t exactly mark it in my planner. Everyone was off to lunch, and I took a peek while Duncan was out to see if he’d made some note of possible candidates. I only wanted to know if I’d made the list.”
Blake cocked an eyebrow. “Find anything useful?” He was playing hardball, but he had a sinking feeling in his gut Wes was telling the truth.
Wes inhaled deeply, stood, and pulled his wallet from the back pocket of his slacks. From it, he withdrew a tiny folded yellow note. He handed it over to Blake and sat again.
Three names, copied in Wes’s looping style of writing.
“Congratulations,” Blake offered, dropping the tiny note on his desk as though it meant nothing. Which it didn’t. It had no bearing on the missing money. “You must’ve been thrilled.”
“I owe you a certain level of respect, but don’t patronize me, Mr. Cobb. You aren’t happy for me. I’m sure you feel Sadie was more deserving than me.” He looked somewhat put-out that he didn’t have Blake’s vote.
Time for a slight change in subject. “You said you thought this meeting had to do with Sadie. Elaborate on that.” A personal matter, Blake didn’t have the power to force Wes to explain a thing. However, the old adage went to walk into a room like you owned it—the same could be said for discussions. Blake assumed the information was his due.
Wes swallowed again. A lot of nerves for a guy Blake presumed innocent. He might need to reassess. “She may have mentioned to you that I said something about how I’ve seen you visiting her outside of work. At all sorts of odd hours.”
Blake drummed his fingers lazily across his desk. “You’re following her?”
A hint of shame crept into Wes’s features. “I recently moved into the same apartment complex. I haven’t told anyone. You’ll have noticed they’re not the nicest in town. Anyway, my living room view is of the parking lot. Sadie’s car.” He raised his gaze to meet Blake’s squarely. “And yours, every time you drop by.”
Blake smiled cordially. “That’ll be all, Wes.”
Wes offered Blake a wry, flat stare as he stood. He looked like he might throw one last comment over his shoulder as he walked out, but Amanda stormed in a second before he reached the door.
Her wild eyes were alight with an inner fire Blake had seen a time or two now. He braced for impact.
Fists clenched tightly at her sides, her rigid jaw hardly moved when she spoke. “A word, Mr. Cobb.” Today, she wore a silvery body-hugging dress that stopped a fraction above her ankles, with a deep slit cut up the back, allowing her to walk. The casual T-shirt-style neck and sleeves kept it from looking like a ball gown, but it still gave the impression of unnatural height, and the heavy collection of bangles on her thin arms gave a touch of sophisticated power and dominance.
Like Quinn, she could own a room with her sense of style. Unlike Quinn, she didn’t hide her anger behind a poised, stony glare that gave little away. No, Amanda’s anger manifested as a warhorse she then mounted and rode to meet the enemy.
Wes’s face had frozen in unveiled anticipation, black eyes darting between Blake and Amanda, eyebrows raised.
Blake pointed toward the door. “Good talk, Wes. I’ll let you know if I need any further information from you.”
Wes left, and Blake took the few seconds of distraction to contemplate his odds of survival in the next sixty seconds. Judging by the plumes shooting from Amanda’s ears and her flared nostrils, they weren’t looking too great. He should’ve updated his will last year when Quinn suggested it.
* * * *
Sadie wouldn’t lie to herself and pretend she hadn’t expected Blake’s stiff, overly formal visit to her office. She’d actually been on her way to explain and apologize when Kennedy had informed her he was doing regulation auditing interviews. She doubted Kennedy knew what was really going on and didn’t tempt fate by enlightening her. She’d already screwed up, letting Amanda figure out Blake had told her about the embezzlement scheme.
Another item on the list of perfectly legitimate reasons he had to glare at her stonily as he entered and closed the door behind himself. He didn’t sit when she indicated a chair. He stood, hands clasped behind his back, those gorgeous hazel eyes pinned on her.
His ire enticed a low heat to sweep through her belly. She licked her lips. She couldn’t tell him to stop regarding her like a displeased sovereign lord because it was turning her on.
Could she? She scooted up her to desk and eyed him head-on. “I’m sorry.”
That seemed to do the trick, at least momentarily, as the fierce expression faded. “What?”
“I said I’m sorry. What, you’ve never heard an apology before?”
She guessed not, given the last few women in his life. From what she’d heard of Quinn, the woman had her pride. Probably wasn’t easy to wrangle humility out of someone beloved by the whole country—Sadie included. She had a few Clementine Hazel novels sitting on her bookshelf at home. As for Kira
, she didn’t sound like the kind of person who was ever actually remorseful enough to apologize, the kind of person with a hazy excuse for everything.
Blake’s green and brown gaze scrutinized her deeper than they ever had, raking over her face like they were trying to find something. They were so vividly bright, the kind of hazel that made her want to contemplate the actual numerical ratio of jade to gold.
The connection hit Sadie. “She named herself after your eyes. Clementine Hazel.”
He tilted his head, as though surprised with the turn in conversation. “Seth’s, actually. When he was tiny, they were as green as hers. Her first attempts at a writing career were under the name Clementine Green.”
Sadie frowned. “Doesn’t quite have the same ring, does it?”
Blake glanced at the floor and back at Sadie. “You had no right to tell Amanda about my past with Quinn. Or Kira. Or Emily,” he added pointedly, driving home each name like a nail.
She closed her eyes and let her head hang. “I know. I know and I’m so sorry, Blake. You’ll never, ever believe me, but I thought I was helping. I stupidly assumed you’d told her. I only intended to explain that I think you’re a good person trying to make up for bad decisions you made a long time ago. You’re just…” She looked at him, trying to figure out how to say it right this time. “You’re a good man, Blake. Your heart’s where it’s supposed to be, and I wish you could see that that’s enough.”
He took a few strides forward. His stance had relaxed, his hands no longer bound tightly behind his back but set loosely in the pockets of his slacks. He glanced at her from beneath enviable long lashes. “If you’re wondering why I think I’m in love with you, you’re welcome to repeat everything you just said.”
The warmth of long-buried feelings and the heat of bone-deep attraction had her feeling like she’d stepped into a sauna. She couldn’t seem to see past Blake’s mouth, her thumb itching to tug his bottom lip to hers, especially with words like love slipping from between them so casually sincere. Sadie groaned and shook her head. “Gah, you’re stupidly good-looking. It pisses me off. I can’t tell whether I’m feeling emotions, or just a physical reaction to your perfect jawline.”
Running the Numbers Page 18
