“Thank you,” Olivia said before she strode to Fred’s office.
Olivia set down the asset list she had in her hand on his desk and looked around. The bankers’ box she was looking for was right on the chair beside his desk and she quickly flipped through the files. No, the file she was looking for—the plot maps and deeds—wasn’t there.
She leaned back in his chair, wondering where he might have put it. If they had any chance of dressing up and going to the Halloween party, she’d need to finish this up tonight for him to deliver to Mrs. Weston tomorrow.
She hated to go rummaging through his things. Trust and confidentiality were paramount in their profession, and there were lots of things involved in his banking business that she was not privy to—nor should she be.
Leaning forward, her elbows on his desk, she glanced around and saw his open briefcase sitting on a side table by the window. He’d likely have it there, wouldn’t he?
She crossed the room and briefly flipped through the contents, ignoring things that were none of her business. At the bottom of the stack, she found what she was looking for and she pulled it out, laying it on his desk so she could get the numbers she needed.
On the top of the file was a paper-clipped inventory list, like the one she’d brought in. But the one he had was short one item. She set them side by side and the only thing that was missing from his that was on hers was—this property. And based on the size of it, it was worth quite a bit of money. Why wasn’t it included in his list of assets?
She flipped through the folder and her stomach clenched. The property was the Westons, and should be part of the inventory. Olivia’s head spun at the thought of what could have happened—why he didn’t want it on the official list and she couldn’t think of anything.
She flipped through the plot maps and it slowly dawned on her that the property left off the asset list for the ranch was the one they’d visited the previous week. She rubbed her forehead as she remembered the surveyor and Fred describing it as a very valuable piece of property, one that could fetch quite a lot of money.
Her stomach lurched. She looked again at his list of assets for the Westons versus hers and the property was nowhere to be found. But here it was in black and white. His mother had even signed off on his version of the assets, not the one she’d painstakingly produced on her own.
Her head hurt and her heart felt like it might explode. Why wouldn’t he share this with her? They’d been a team this whole time, and he’d changed her final report. Without telling her.
She dropped her head in her hands and wished she was anywhere but sitting in the Bank of Riston. What she’d thought was a lovely place with charming people was turning into a mess—and one that she couldn’t be part of.
“Olivia?”
She took a deep breath before she raised her head at Fred’s voice.
“Yes?”
“What are you doing?”
She pushed herself back from his desk and stood, the relevant files in her hand—both her version of the Westons’ assets and his.
“This is very confusing to me. I’m just trying to understand.”
Fred frowned, but his eyes darted from her hands to his open briefcase.
“What do you mean?”
“Fred, your asset list and mine are very different. I’ve been looking for the file on that property for two weeks. It was in the office at River’s End Ranch, listed as an asset the day I got there. Why the change?”
“Olivia, I—I can’t talk about it. I just can’t,” Fred said as he walked toward her, holding out his hand.
She backed away.
“Why? Why can’t you tell me? I thought we were in this together.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head slowly.
“Olivia, you don’t understand.”
She waited while he paced in front of his desk. And waited. He didn’t speak.”
“Try me,” she said.
He sat down in the chair on the far side of his desk and dropped his head in his hand, letting out a deep sigh.
“I can’t. I just can’t.”
She stared at him for a moment, her heart shattering into a million pieces.
“Okay. I understand.”
“No, Olivia, you don’t understand.”
“Sure, I do.”
She set the files down and walked around the desk. With her hand on the door, she turned slowly.
“Fred, I thought we were a team. I could never be on a team with someone who can’t tell me the truth. I thought it was different between us.”
He let out a groan as she walked out the door, but she knew what she had to do.
“Mrs. Wharton, can you take me home? I mean, to my room?” she asked Fred’s mother as she walked past.
She picked up her briefcase, the bags with the Halloween costumes and left the bank, walking straight past the gaping Mrs. Green and waited for Mrs. Wharton by the car. If there was one thing she couldn’t accept in her life, personal or professional, it was dishonesty or disloyalty. And Fred had just shown her both.
Chapter 16
Olivia couldn’t look at Mrs. Wharton on the way home. She just couldn’t.
They pulled into the driveway, and Olivia looked away as Mrs. Wharton said, “Sweetheart, would you like to talk about what happened?”
“No,” Olivia said curtly. “I’d just like to make a sandwich and go work in my room, if you don’t mind.”
Mrs. Wharton had just shaken her head and said, “Whatever you need, dear.”
And that’s exactly what Olivia did when she got back to Fred’s house. She tossed the bags with the costumes on her bed, made herself a turkey sandwich—and she may have been a little heavy on the mayo, but it made her feel better—and she took her sandwich and a glass of milk into her suite.
When she set the plate down on the nightstand and plopped down on her bed, she couldn’t even eat. She stared at the ceiling and down at the stack of files she’d laid on the dresser and fought back her tears.
She might have fallen asleep, but her eyes fluttered when the scent of pumpkin and chocolate tickled her nose. Her stomach rumbled and she sat up, the sandwich she’d made intact on the dresser. She hadn’t even taken a bite of it.
Through her closed door, she heard Mrs. Wharton humming along with some clanging pots and pans. She pulled on a sweater and tugged back the curtains. Fred’s car wasn’t in the driveway, so she pulled open her door and stuck her head out.
“There you are, Olivia,” Mrs. Wharton said as she pulled something that smelled divine out of the oven and set the baking sheet on the stove. “I just made pumpkin spice bars. I figured it was safe since Fred’s not home, and it’s just about time to frost them with chocolate. Care to help?”
Olivia was drawn like a magnet over to the stove, and she stirred the chocolate that Mrs. Wharton had melted in a double boiler. She leaned over and breathed deeply. Pumpkin and chocolate together was almost a dream come true.
Unfortunately, it didn’t make her feel completely better. The memory of her row with Fred rushed back into her brain and she plopped down on a kitchen stool, her head in her hands.
“Care to talk about it?” Mrs. Wharton said, glancing at Olivia from the corner of her eye.
Mrs. Wharton was a bank officer, and she’d signed off on Fred’s version of the inventory list, so Olivia really wasn’t breaking any confidence by talking to her about it.
“Fred and I had a—a disagreement,” she finally said.
“Oh, I see. About?”
Mrs. Wharton busied herself with spreading chocolate on one end of the pumpkin spice bars. She handed Olivia a knife and scooted the chocolate over and Olivia began to frost the other side as they talked.
“I saw your signature on the inventory list. I gave you mine, too, so you know there’s a discrepancy.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Wharton said slowly.
“I asked Fred why and he wouldn’t tell me.” Olivia made swirls in the c
hocolate she’d put on the pumpkin bars.
“Oh? I’m certain he must have a reason,” Mrs. Wharton said as she looked up at Olivia under her lashes.
“I’m sure he does. He said he couldn’t tell me.”
“Well, then, he can’t.”
Olivia set her knife in the chocolate bowl. “But why? We’ve been a team. I am a completely confidential consultant.”
“Yes, and as a completely confidential consultant, you’re aware that there are times when it’s not appropriate to share details.”
Olivia leaned her elbows on the counter and rubbed her forehead. “Yes, I do know that.”
“So, is Fred’s decision not to share this information more difficult for you on a professional level—or maybe more challenging on personal one?” Mrs. Wharton said as she turned toward the sink and washed the mixing bowl.
Olivia sat up straight and her eyebrows rose. Her fingers touched her lips where Fred had kissed her earlier in the day, and she smiled as she remembered their spin around the aisle at the party supply store. And with the memory, her lips tingled again. That had never happened to her before.
“Um, I think you may be right,” she said slowly as Mrs. Wharton turned around, her dish towel working feverishly on the spatula.
“I am?” she said, her eyes twinkling and a smile working its way across her face.
Olivia picked at a loose thread on the sleeve of her jacket. “I hadn’t thought about it that way.”
Mrs. Wharton leaned forward. “Well, maybe you ought to. In a different situation—on any of your other consulting jobs—would you have been so upset if your client was keeping the confidence of their client?”
“No, of course I wouldn’t. I would have understood. There’s nothing illegal or shady going on, so of course it wouldn’t be a problem.”
“Exactly. So Fred is basically asking you to trust him, that there’s a greater purpose involved here.”
“You’re right. I just thought that we had something special. And that he trusted me.”
Mrs. Wharton walked around the counter and sat down beside Olivia and rested her hand on Olivia’s arm.
“I believe he does trust you. Utterly and completely.”
Olivia stared down at her hands. “Then why won’t he tell me?”
Mrs. Wharton crossed over to the coffee maker and started a pot of coffee.
“You know that Fred’s father was president of the bank before Fred, right?”
“Yes,” Olivia said as the coffee began to brew and she went back to pulling the thread from her jacket.
“I was frequently in the same position you are. Things would happen with people in town that Fred kept confidential. He would never, ever betray someone’s trust, and for that he became a very trusted and respected man in the community. He was the keeper of confidence, cheerleader of success and had the utmost respect for all of his clients.”
“I’m sure he did. It almost sounds like you’re describing Fred. I mean, my Fred.” Olivia took in a sharp breath as she realized what she’d said.
Mrs. Wharton just smiled and nodded.
“Your Fred is exactly the same. He has incredible integrity, and people trust him for it. It’s not a bad thing, Olivia. It’s a good thing. It’s highly commendable. And it might be wise for you to trust him, too. When he can tell you, he will.”
“Honestly, I did think we might have had a connection and that he’d share this with me.”
Mrs. Wharton scooted a cup of coffee with pumpkin spice creamer in it toward Olivia.
“My dear, trust me. You do have a connection. He adores you, and it’s plain for everyone to see. I’ve never seen Fred this happy, even while working this hard, in his entire life. Ever. Well, he was happy until tonight, anyway.”
Olivia’s heart tugged. She had been happy before tonight, too. Happier than she’d ever been.
“Did I ruin everything?”
Mrs. Wharton sat down beside her again. “I don’t think so. You can explain to him why you felt the way you did. If I know Fred, he’s doing some heavy thinking of his own.”
Olivia sighed and said, “I’ve made a mess of things, haven’t I?”
“Trust, my dear. Trust in your feelings for each other. And meantime, would you like to lick the spoon from the chocolate? I saved it for you.”
Olivia smiled and gratefully took the spoon from Mrs. Wharton. She’d always loved when her own mom had saved her the baking spoon to lick, and she smiled at the kindness and integrity of this woman—and of Fred, and she knew she needed to talk to him as soon as she could.
Chapter 17
Fred watched out the window of his office as Olivia got into his mother’s car, her jaw set.
How did it come to this? He’d tried to explain as best he could without divulging Mrs. Weston’s confidence—something he would never, ever do. Not even for Olivia. Mr. and Mrs. Weston had put their trust in the Bank of Riston—in him, and his parents before him. And there was no way he would jeopardize that, even for the woman he loved. If she’d just waited one more day, he could have told her and everything would be all right.
Loved? Had that word just crossed his mind?
Sure, he’d kissed her, but was this love? He thought he’d been in love with Dani—but Olivia was different. She understood him, and before the events of a few hours ago, he thought she’d really liked and appreciated him—for all of his quirks. Or in spite of them.
He switched off the light and passed through the dark foyer of the bank. He couldn’t face going home, where Olivia and his mother were likely making dinner and raking him over the coals.
He slid into the driver’s seat and found himself driving the dark roads of Riston. He eventually pulled into River’s End Ranch. His stomach grumbled as he parked by the restaurant, the scent of pizza pulling him inside.
He realized when he stepped inside that it was Thursday, and there were lots of people there playing Trivia. He glanced around the room and was headed toward a table in the bar—he didn’t feel particularly festive at the moment and didn’t want to play—when Joshua and Allison waved him over to their table. He spotted Jaclyn and Simon at a different table and looked away as Jaclyn’s eyes bore into him—she was smiling, but still. He felt bad enough as it was, and he knew she’d probably tell him he’d messed up royally—something he already knew but he had no idea how to fix.
“Hey, Fred,” Joshua said, and Allison nodded toward him with a smile. “Nice to see you here.”
“Thanks. Do you come often? I haven’t been for quite a while.” Fred noticed even more familiar faces as he glanced around the room, and before all that mess with Dani, he’d come almost every Thursday. He should have brought Olivia—she would love it. And they’d probably win. But then he remembered that she wasn’t speaking to him and he turned back to his friends.
“No, we don’t,” Allison said. “We got a babysitter so we could come. I’m pretty sure Joshua is going to rock at this.”
Fred laughed, and thought she was probably right. The four of them together would be—he tossed the thought out of his head before it started.
“How’s that pretty Olivia?” Joshua asked as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small notepad, flipping through some pages as Allison turned to the game. “According to my calculations, things should be going swimmingly.”
“What do you mean, according to your calculations?” Fred asked with a frown.
“Uh, well—” Joshua glanced at Jaclyn, who smiled and nodded at him before he shoved his notebook back in his pocket. “Things should be going well.”
Fred ordered a root beer from Barbi and leaned his elbows on the table.
“They’re not going well at all. She won’t speak to me.”
Joshua looked horrified, and said, “Well, you need to fix it.”
“Yeah, I know. Just not sure how,” Fred said as Barbi set his root beer down in front of him.
Joshua and Allison turned their attention to the next Triv
ia question and Fred leaned back in his chair, scouting the room. At the very front of the room, Mrs. Weston sat with Dani and Travis, all of them chatting about the next Trivia answer.
Olivia really would love this, he thought, and his eyes were drawn back to Mrs. Weston. She was the only one who could help him here. He had to make things right with Olivia—but he couldn’t unless he talked to Mrs. Weston.
“You’re absolutely right, Joshua,” he said as he picked up his root beer and headed toward Mrs. Weston.
“Hi, Dani, Travis. Mrs. Weston.” Fred greeted all at the table with a smile, and was pleasantly surprised to note that he felt not one thing other than happy for Dani and Travis. Not embarrassed, not a twinge of regret—nothing. All he could think about was Olivia.
“Mrs. Weston, could I see you for a moment? Outside?”
She looked up, surprised, and excused herself from the table.
“Of course,” she said as she followed him out onto the porch and sat down in her rocker, gesturing for him to sit beside her.
“How is everything going? The party is tomorrow night.”
“Yes, yes, it is. Everything’s going well. I mean, terribly. Not well at all.”
Mrs. Weston laughed and said, “I’m not following you. Well, or not well?”
Fred leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he hung his head.
“Everything’s going great with the asset and liability audit. We’re almost done, and it should be all signed, sealed and delivered for you to announce tomorrow. You can hand it over the next day, free and clear.”
Mrs. Weston clapped as her eyes misted. “Oh, Fred, thank you so much. The kids will be thrilled. This is what we’ve all dreamed about for years. And they’ll likely be even more thrilled when they find out Mr. Weston and I are building a house and will be completely off the ranch. They’ll have full autonomy.”
Fred smiled. “It’s something you’ve all been working toward for years, and it’ll be a very welcome culmination of that hard work. I’m happy to have helped facilitate it in any way.”
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