“I can see that.” Heather inclined her head.
“The difference is you don’t have the votes in council to block the abatement.” Ian sat back on his seat. “Two of the other four council members have a more rational perspective of the abatement. With my vote, this gives us the majority.”
“We’ll see.” Heather sat back as well. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Ian? Sister Lou and I have a lunch date.”
“No, there’s nothing else.” Ian stood. “I’ll look for you and Penny to reschedule our finance meeting.”
“Of course. We’ll look forward to reviewing the budget numbers with you. Have a good day.”
“You, too.” Ian found a smile for Sister Lou. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Sister Lou.”
“You as well, President Greer.”
Heather watched as Ian disappeared beyond her door. “I have to find a way to stop his insane abatement idea. It’s fiscally irresponsible.”
“I don’t think you’ll have any trouble stopping his plan.” Sister Lou sounded pensive.
Heather turned to the older woman. “What makes you say that?”
Sister Lou folded her arms on the conference table in front of her laptop. “If he has the votes now to pass the abatement bill, why is he so anxious to reschedule the finance meeting with you?”
Heather’s eyes widened with realization. “That’s true.”
“If the budget doesn’t support a business tax abatement, you’ll have another opportunity to make that argument to the council during your rescheduled meeting.” Sister Lou glanced toward the doorway. “Is President Greer really after your office?”
Heather shrugged restlessly. “I’m not positive. It’s more of a feeling I get from him and some of his devotees. There are rumors that his fans want him to run.”
“We should add him to our list of suspects.” Sister Lou turned back to Heather. “Is there anyone else?”
“The list seems to grow by the hour.” Heather’s tone was wry. It was depressing to realize how many people disliked her. “There’s one donor in particular who supported Owen during the campaign. He was pretty aggravated when I was elected.”
“We’ll have to investigate him as well.”
Heather frowned. “If this list gets any longer, I’ll have to reconsider running for reelection. Perhaps I should go into the witness protection program instead.”
Chapter 14
“How’s that Lenten sacrifice working out for you?”
“I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” Chris detected a touch of gloating in Shari’s voice as she slurped her coffee.
His darling skeptic didn’t believe he was serious about giving up caffeine for forty days and forty nights. Did she think having lunch at the Briar Coast Café on the second day of Lent would break him? The little café was a den of temptation. The aroma of rich, robust coffee was strong beneath the competing scents of chocolate, confectioners’ sugar, fresh-baked bread, and made-from-scratch soup.
“I’m only asking because I’m concerned.” Shari swept her spoon through her bowl of chicken-and-rice soup. “I want you to have a good Lenten season.”
“Are you sure?” Chris jerked his chin toward a white porcelain mug overflowing with coffee. It sat on Shari’s black plastic lunch tray beside her soup bowl. “I don’t recall you ever requesting coffee with your soup-and-salad lunch before.”
Shari lowered her soupspoon to her tray. She lifted her white porcelain coffee mug and cradled it in both palms. “I didn’t give up coffee for Lent.”
Chris grinned, shaking his head at her antics. “The Bible is full of quotes about temptation.”
“I’m sure it is.” Shari took a deeper drink of java. “There are a lot of other, less painful sacrifices you could have made.”
“They wouldn’t have been as meaningful.”
“Chris.” Another woman’s voice called for his attention.
Chris looked up to find Lorna Alexander, the vice president for finance with the College of St. Hermione of Ephesus, beside their table. Curiosity gleamed in her dark eyes. Bone-straight, dark brown hair in a pixie cut framed her diamond-shaped brown face. Her fur-lined black leather winter coat hung open over her fire engine red pantsuit.
“Hello, Lorna.” Chris rose, straining to exhibit a civility he didn’t feel. His efforts didn’t extend to inviting his coworker to join them for lunch, though. He’d rather not match wits with her career ambitions during his meal.
“I dropped by this little café to pick up something for lunch.” Lorna gripped her black leather clutch in both hands. Her nail polish matched her suit to perfection. “There’s always so much to do at the college, isn’t there, between meetings and projects. I’m surprised you were able to get away.”
Chris sent Shari an apologetic look before turning back to Lorna. “I’ve found that getting away for lunch makes my afternoons more productive.” He glanced at his watch for emphasis.
“Oh. Well.” Lorna used her long, red nails to brush back her bangs. “I’m sorry to interrupt your lunch, though I have to admit that I was surprised to see you here.” Her inquiring eyes finally landed on Shari.
Chris frowned. “Why is that?”
Lorna wrinkled her nose and tapped Chris’s bicep above his tan long-sleeved shirt. Her red lips parted in the attempt of a teasing smile. “The Briar Coast Café doesn’t seem like the kind of place for you to bring potential donors.”
“This isn’t a business lunch.” Chris swept a hand from Shari to Lorna. “Sharelle Henson, Lorna Alexander.”
Shari’s cocoa eyes were suspicious. “Hello.”
“Lorna is the college’s vice president for finance.” Chris smiled, proud to be able to say, “Shari is an investigative reporter with the Telegraph and my girlfriend.”
Lorna’s dark eyes seemed even more curious. “So you do have a personal life.” She tapped Chris’s bicep again. This time, her touch lingered. “I’ll let you get back to lunch, then. Nice to have met you, Cheryl.”
Shari’s grin seemed predatory. “You, too, Lena.”
Lorna gave Shari a startled look before turning on her black Burberry suede boots to find a place in the café’s customer order line.
“Should I be worried?” Shari tracked Lorna’s progress to the front of the café.
“I’m not romantically interested in Lorna, if that’s what you’re asking.” Chris readjusted his winter coat on the back of his chair before reclaiming his seat.
Shari leaned toward him, lowering her voice. “Should you be worried?”
“Everyone who works with Lorna should be worried.” Chris didn’t believe he was exaggerating. “Her top priority is making other executives look bad in front of the president.”
“Oh.” Shari returned to her soup. “Why did you introduce me as your girlfriend?”
Chris lowered his steak-and-cheddar-on-whole-grain sandwich and gave Shari a puzzled look. Her tone was casual, perhaps too casual. “We’ve been dating for three months. How should I introduce you?”
Shari shrugged her slender shoulders under her silver turtleneck sweater. “I don’t know.”
Chris stared at her. Her response was worse than unhelpful. It only added to his confusion. Shari was outspoken to a fault, so why wasn’t she speaking out now?
“I realize you’re not a girl.” He tried to read her reactions, but her expression was carefully closed. “You’re a grown woman, but I’m not familiar with any other titles for our relationship.”
“Neither am I.”
“Then until you come up with something better, I’ll stick with ‘girlfriend.’”
Shari’s gaze wavered before falling back to her tray. A block of ice squeezed into Chris’s chest. Was Shari searching for a way out of their relationship? Why? What had he done wrong?
* * *
Sister Lou packed her laptop back into its case Thursday afternoon as she watched the young man who’d delivered the mayor’s cabinet members’ lunch order from
the Briar Coast Café. “Are you certain that you want me to join you? You said this was a working lunch for your team.”
“We’re not discussing state secrets.” Heather paid the deliveryman. She must have added a generous tip, judging by the surprised grin he shared with her before bouncing out of her office. “This will give you a chance to observe our interactions. You’ll see for yourself why I’m sure no one on my staff would participate in these threats.”
“I appreciate your intent, but I don’t want to be in the way.” Sister Lou joined Heather in unpacking the meal containers and eating utensils from the Briar Coast Café bags.
“You won’t be in the way and my team knows you’re joining us.” Heather identified each container she lifted from the carrier before placing them in front of a chair.
Apparently, each member of Heather’s cabinet took the same seat for every meeting. Noting this, Sister Lou decided to wait before choosing a chair for herself. There would be an extra seat since Kerry was having lunch with Jefferson.
She looked up as the executives walked into the office, silent but unified. Arneeka took the seat to the left of the head of the table. Penelope sat across from Arneeka. Tian was beside Arneeka, and Yolanda settled onto the chair at the foot of the table. Sister Lou carried her soup and sandwich to the empty chair on Yolanda’s left. It was the closest to the door.
Sister Lou looked to Heather. “May I say grace?”
Heather turned to Arneeka. “Well, I—”
“It’s all right, Mayor Stanley.” Arneeka interrupted her boss. “Please go ahead, Sister Lou.” She bowed her head and waited.
Sister Lou made the sign of the cross, touching her index and second fingers to her forehead, chest, and left and right shoulders. “For what we are about to receive let us truly be thankful. Amen.” Sister Lou lifted her eyes as she made the sign of the cross again. The others were smiling at her.
Heather broke the silence. “Thank you, Sister Lou. I should’ve known you’d say the right thing.”
“Of course. Catholics respect all faiths.” Sister Lou moved her fork around her garden salad, mixing the tomatoes, cucumbers, carrots, lettuce, and blue cheese with her vinaigrette and oil dressing.
Aromas from the various dishes tempted Sister Lou: Heather’s tangy salmon salad, Arneeka’s spicy blackened chicken salad, Tian’s cheesy baked ziti, Yolanda’s well-seasoned chicken-and-sausage gumbo, and Penelope’s tomato-based tortilla soup.
Despite these mouth-watering scents, Sister Lou’s companions seemed disinterested in their meals. Their silence and body language spoke volumes. Their grief blanketed the table and made the air in the room seem heavy and stale.
Sister Lou considered Arneeka. When she’d first met Heather’s chief of staff that morning, the other woman had seemed thoughtful and friendly. Her interaction with Heather had been entertaining. Now Arneeka’s almond-shaped dark chocolate eyes were shadowed.
Seated beside Arneeka, Tian’s stylish gray suit jacket was buttoned over a matching gray turtleneck sweater. The slim communications director also appeared to be lost in thoughts that were burdened by regrets.
To Sister Lou’s right, Yolanda had the seat at the foot of the table. The senior legal counsel was petite with short, wavy dark brown hair framing an attractive diamond-shaped face. The expression of loss in Yolanda’s eyes nearly broke Sister Lou’s heart. On Sister Lou’s left, Penelope appeared to be the youngest member of the group. The interim finance director seemed devastated.
The loss Heather’s team had suffered had left them shattered and unsure of how to handle their grief. Sister Lou made the decision for them. They would face it in the open. “Tell me about Opal.”
Her five companions couldn’t have appeared more stunned if Sister Lou had announced that their beloved Buffalo Bills professional football franchise was relocating to San Diego, California.
Heather lowered her plastic fork. She wiped the corners of her mouth with the paper napkin she’d spread across her lap. “She earned her undergraduate—”
Sister Lou held up her left hand, palm out. “Tell me something personal about her.”
Heather and her team exchanged puzzled expressions. They appeared confused as to the motivation for Sister Lou’s question.
Finally, into the silence Yolanda called out. “She was afraid of ladybugs.” After another pause, the room erupted into childish giggles.
“I’d forgotten about that.” Heather covered her mouth and tossed back her head as she was overcome by hilarity.
“How could you forget?” Tian squealed through her laughter.
Heather looked to Sister Lou. “Once my campaign picked up momentum, I rented office space near the Briar Coast Café. I think it’s an ice cream parlor now.”
“That’s right.” Yolanda chuckled as she picked up the story. “In the summer, the side door was a magnet for ladybugs. Dozens of them.”
“Scores of them.” Arneeka sounded almost gleeful.
“Opal hated them.” Tian held Sister Lou’s gaze as though to impress upon Sister Lou how uncomfortable her deceased friend had been around the bugs. “She’d scream whenever she saw one, and she’d freak out every time she had to go through the door.” Then Tian fell back against her chair with peals of laughter. Her associates and Sister Lou joined in the hilarity.
Arneeka caught her breath. “Then one day, Heather had the brilliant idea to put a big plastic ladybug in Opal’s desk drawer on top of her calculator.”
“The shriek was ear piercing.” Heather’s tone was dry as she struggled with a smile. “But it was so worth it. At least it was until Opal paid me back.”
Sister Lou wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. “How did she do that?”
“She reset all of Heather’s clocks. All of them.” Tian screamed with laughter.
“I was an hour early to all of my appointments that day.” Heather’s tone was dry, but her eyes twinkled with humor.
The happy reminiscences seemed to help improve their appetites. They approached their soups, salads, and sandwiches with much more enthusiasm.
Sister Lou sent her gaze around the table again. “What else?”
“She was one tough cookie.” Yolanda made the observation with pride. “Opal told me once that she hated math.”
“What?” The chorus circled the room in shocked tones.
“But she’s such a brilliant accountant.” Heather’s eyes were wide with amazement. “Her work was impeccable. How could she hate math?”
Yolanda’s eyes twinkled as though she was sharing an exciting secret. “She said all through primary school and into high school, she struggled with math, but she was determined to conquer it before she’d let it crush her. Majoring in accounting and then getting her M.B.A. was her way of proving that she wouldn’t let math beat her.”
Sister Lou was impressed. “You’re right. She was one tough cookie.”
“I admired Opal’s intellectual curiosity.” A smile hovered around Arneeka’s full lips. “She said after she’d met me, she started reading books and articles about Islam because she wanted to understand my religion. She asked questions because she wanted to learn, not because she wanted to judge.”
That touched Sister Lou’s heart. “She was a caring person.”
Arneeka nodded. “Very much so.”
“That’s what I remember most as well.” Penelope’s voice was muffled. “My mother died from cancer two years ago.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Sister Lou murmured.
“Thank you.” Penelope inclined her head. “Opal came to the hospital several times to sit with me while I visited my mother. We’d talk or watch TV while my mother rested. She’d come by straight from work, stay for an hour or so, make sure I had something to eat, then she’d go home. I really appreciated that.”
Sister Lou reached over and squeezed the young woman’s hand as it rested on her lap.
Tian’s voice eased the sudden silence. “Every Tuesday of the campaig
n, we’d go to the shopping center’s discount bookstore during lunch.”
Sister Lou released Penelope’s hand. “What types of books did Opal prefer?”
“Autobiographies.” Tian shook her head with a smile. “Everything from legendary historical figures to scandal-plagued celebrities. She loved them all. She said she wanted to know people in their own words.”
Heather sighed. “Thank you for letting us share these memories with you, Sister Lou. I hadn’t realized this was what we needed.”
“Thank you for sharing these memories with me.” Sister Lou cast her gaze around the table again. “I wish I’d known Opal as well as you did.”
“Opal can never be replaced.” Heather smiled at Penelope. “But I know we’re in good hands with Penny, which takes me to one of our agenda items. President Greer wants to reschedule the finance meeting with the town council members.”
Arneeka frowned. “Why? I thought he had the votes to pass the abatement.”
“Sister Lou had a suggestion.” Heather slid a glance toward Sister Lou. “Maybe his voting block isn’t as secure as he wants us to believe. We may have another chance to defeat this bill.”
Yolanda looked from Sister Lou to Heather. Her lips curved in a grin. “What’s the plan?”
Chapter 15
“Shari.” A light, feminine voice hailed Shari as she strode back to her desk Thursday afternoon.
Taking two steps backward, Shari landed outside the cubicle of the Telegraph’s education reporter, Poppy Flowers. The woman’s parents had an unfortunate sense of humor. The tall, shapely blonde crossed to her cubicle’s entrance. Her chin-length bob framed round pink cheeks. She’d coupled a cream knit sweater with powder blue, taper-legged pants.
Shari looked up to meet the taller woman’s big blue-green eyes. If she had to guess, Shari would say the education reporter was in her early thirties. But that was a rough guestimate. The other woman’s youthful features made it hard to pinpoint her age.
“Yes, Poppy?”
“Do you have a few minutes?” Poppy waved a hand in the general direction of the guest chair behind her.
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