The woman who was going to save Paws for Love deserved a dog of her own.
Did he deserve more?
Her life was going to get better, so his would, too.
Shelly stuck her head around the door frame. “Have you ever heard the phrase foster fail, boss?”
Sarah smoothed her hand over Bub’s brow as he blinked drowsily at her. “No, but I think I get it. I’m not sure I was really a foster, but what we have here is epic foster fail.” She glanced up at Shelly. “I want him. Forever.”
Shelly sighed. “I had a feeling this would happen. There’s the fees, the paperwork... I mean, you need an address.”
Sarah nodded. “Right. I’ll get it. He’s mine.” Will’s part-time temporary job would pay the adoption fee. Spending it on this was probably foolish.
But sometimes being foolish was the only way to be happy.
Bub sighed deeply.
As much as she hated to do it, she was going to have to get a job. A real job. One that would last longer than a week.
Would anyone in Holly Heights hire the daughter of the town’s most hated man?
For her sake and Bub’s, after her temporary job was up, she’d have to roll the dice, take a shot that someone other than Will Barnes would help her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE NEXT DAY, Sarah brewed the coffee as soon as Will arrived. Beating him to the office had become a matter of pride, even if it meant waiting for him to show up and unlock the door. Will had said nothing, but he did raise an eyebrow when he opened the door and motioned for her to step inside.
Even Shelly wasn’t so surprised that Sarah had cleaned out the pens before she left for Will’s office.
Sarah from six months ago would wonder what sort of work program she’d been sentenced to, but today, she enjoyed proving her dedication.
Before she sat down to test her wits against the computer, she filled Will’s cup and slid it across his desk. This morning he was doodling on his own notepad, the chamber of commerce’s annual report in front of him.
“Thanks.” He picked up the cup and sipped before he sighed. “No, really, thank you. This is good.”
“I’m glad.” Sarah dawdled in the doorway, another favor on the tip of her tongue. It was such a small thing, she wasn’t sure where the hesitation came from.
Before she could ask, Will said, “I’m going to set up a meeting with Rebecca, Stephanie and Jen out at the shelter this Saturday. Can you be ready?”
Sarah was immediately hot and cold at the same time.
Whether she’d be ready or not, she’d do everything she could to make it happen. Hoping Will had missed her adrenaline rush, Sarah cleared her throat. “I have a few holes to plug, more estimates, but I’ll be prepared.” She nodded firmly. Convincing him would go a long way toward convincing herself. “And about that...”
He’d been writing on the pad, one hand rubbing his forehead, but when she trailed off, he looked up.
“The moving boxes. In the corner of the reception area.” She pointed out the door in case he couldn’t remember what she was talking about. “Can I have...some?”
“I was planning to take them to the recycling center, but...” Will motioned at the notepad.
She wondered how he’d meant to fill in the blank. He’d been too busy? He thought he might need them?
Will leaned back to study her face. “Are you planning to move?”
Caught off guard, Sarah shook her head. “No way. Besides, I don’t have much to pack anymore.” She pressed a hand to her forehead, tired all over again after a rough night on the lumpy couch. “No, what I’d like to do is box up some of the old files. The previous manager never threw a thing out—which is probably a good policy—but I’d like to be able to move around the office without starting a paper landslide. If—no, when—we resume adoptions, I’ll need that space to fill out forms and take payments. And when animals are surrendered, the office is a good place to settle the cat or dog before moving them to isolation.”
Will had seen the room for himself, so surely he’d understand.
Finally, he shrugged. “Take as many as you like. Do you need me to bring them by the shelter?” He glanced away. “In the truck. It’s good for hauling...things like boxes.”
She should never have tried a conversation like this before his second cup. He was talking like the connections in his brain were missing.
“No need to do that. I can break them down and shove them in the backseat. On a pretty day like today, it’s nice to ride home with the top down.” She clasped her hands in front of her, regretting mentioning her car. It must seem ridiculous to hold on to the convertible in the face of having to beg the electric company for one more month.
But she couldn’t let it go. Not yet.
Not while she could clearly remember her father’s grin and the huge red bow on top of the black convertible. He’d be unhappy if she sold it without him.
“Fine. Let me know when you leave.” Will loosened his tie. “Or if you need help.”
Then he returned to staring at the notepad and Sarah knew she was dismissed.
* * *
WHEN THE AIR shifted to tell him Sarah had stepped back into the small front office, Will took a deep breath and a comforting sip of what was pretty good coffee. He had to admit he’d been surprised to see her this morning. But he hadn’t said anything, wanting to avoid a repeat of yesterday’s tears.
He’d almost convinced himself she wouldn’t be coming back.
But here she was.
The Austin police detective’s card was safely filed in his top drawer. And Will was no closer to firing Sarah than he’d been yesterday.
Instead, he was pretending to be busy.
Like a coward.
He was about to march into the front office when he heard the front door open.
“Cece, hello.” Sarah’s voice was pleasant, without a drop of surprise.
Will hurried to the doorway to see a well-dressed blonde inside the reception area.
“Why, Sarah, here you are again,” she said with a false laugh. “Like a bad penny.”
“I do like to surprise people.” Sarah’s voice matched the blonde’s in tone and brittleness.
Time to step in.
“Celia Ames, right?” Will offered her his hand. “Holly Heights High School. You might not remember me. Will Barnes.”
He wouldn’t forget Cece Ames. She’d been Sarah’s right hand, always close by whenever the hallways turned into gauntlets. She’d also been a brunette then, but her true colors were easy to see.
Maybe Cece had changed since high school. Even Sarah had matured. The work she was doing for Paws for Love was proof that everyone could change.
Celia Ames was also a solid prospect. Her parents owned the Shop-on-in, Holly Heights’s popular variety store. Dinah Ames had still been behind the counter when Chloe dragged him inside a week ago.
“Please, call me Cece. And it’s Grant now.” Cece slipped her cool hand into his. “My husband, Doug, said you’d stopped by.”
Doug Grant. Will went through his mental list of contacts.
“He’s a lawyer, Will. Has an office over on Jefferson,” Sarah said.
“Right. You guys are building a new house.” He held out his hand to urge Cece into his office. The tension in his reception area was sucking the air out of the room. “Please, sit down. Doug mentioned his beautiful wife but I didn’t make the connection.”
When Cece stepped inside his office, he stopped to glance at Sarah. She seemed to be wilting.
Weren’t she and Cece old friends? What was going on?
“I don’t want to take up too much of your time,” Cece said as Will hurried around to sit behind his desk. “Doug wanted my opinion on whether we should schedule a time to meet with you.”
And? What was the verdict?
“I think I could help you and Doug plan for a comfortable retirement.” Will rested his elbows on his desk. “Doug and I talked about taki
ng some of his business funds and investing with a view to expand his office in five years. Always nice to talk to a man with big plans.”
Cece glanced over her shoulder. “Yes, that’s Doug.”
Will was not getting a good feeling from this meeting. Normally, clients got more confident the longer they talked. Cece was perched on the edge of her chair.
“What kinds of questions do you have? I’ll be happy to answer them.” Will opened a drawer to pull out a folder with all his promo material neatly organized. “Here’s a little information you and Doug can discuss. I’d also be happy to show you a template of the contract. The lawyer might like to take a look.”
Cece made no move to pick up the brochure or smile at his attempt at casual conversation.
“It’s quite a shock to find Sarah Hillman sitting at your front desk, Mr. Barnes.” She crossed her hands in her lap. “You know her father’s a criminal.”
Mr. Barnes, is it? Obviously, he had his work cut out with Cece Grant.
As long as Sarah was sitting behind his reception desk.
“He’s a suspect, right?” Why was he making distinctions? “Sarah’s doing me a favor, answering the phones until I can get someone hired permanently. We’re working together on a project for the shelter, Paws for Love. You’ve heard of the shelter, I’m sure.”
Bringing up her volunteer work... Was he actually defending Sarah?
“Yes. I’ve recently made a donation.” Cece sniffed. “But I’m sure you see the difficulty in having someone with her connections here. My husband’s a lawyer. He would never associate or send business to a place that employs criminals. How would that look?” She tilted her chin down. “You understand, don’t you, Will?”
He straightened his notepad and pen while he considered the problem. “No, I guess I don’t.”
When she blinked at him, he shrugged. “It’s not like she has keys to the vault where your money is stored. There’s no vault. No keys. No way she can access your account or personal information.” Picking this particular moment to stand his ground might be something he looked back on with profound regret.
But watching Cece purse her lips in disapproval was satisfying.
“Perhaps. But you can agree it reflects poorly on your judgment. You’ll have to fire her, Will.” Cece leaned forward, a sympathetic frown wrinkling her forehead.
“I thought you two were friends.” Will tapped his finger to his lips. “Who was sitting next to Sarah in the cafeteria all those days I had to race past your table?”
“I have some regrets, but people change.” Cece stood easily, despite her dangerously high heels. “Give Doug a call when you’re ready. That’s after you get rid of Sarah.”
Will stood and watched Cece head for the door. He shoved his hands in his pockets and trailed her slowly, curious to see what the goodbye might look like.
Then he wondered what would cause one friend to turn on the other when she obviously needed help.
Envy?
Cece was right. People did change.
And not always for the better.
“I haven’t forgotten your invitation to see your little charity, Sarah,” Cece said brightly as she made a straight line for the door. “We’ll definitely catch up.”
No mention of her attempt to get Sarah fired. That was pretty devious.
“Hey, Cece, before you go,” Sarah said as she held out a hand, “do you know anything about the Paws for Love donation box at the Shop-on-in? Do I need to come by and empty it?” A bright smile flashed across her face. But it wasn’t real.
If the donation boxes were significant sources of revenue, Sarah had been a fool to leave them unattended while the shelter was struggling.
Cece frowned. “We don’t have a box.”
Will watched Sarah, certain she was going to call Cece out on...whatever might have happened to the box. He’d seen collection boxes for a variety of causes around town.
None of them had been for Paws for Love.
Had something happened to every donation box?
Had every business in Holly Heights trashed them to avoid an association with the Hillmans?
Sarah waved easily. “No problem. We’ll be setting out new boxes in a month or so. Can I still count on your support?”
Cece shifted from one foot to the other. “Of course,” she said. “I’m always happy to support a fund-raiser that benefits Holly Heights.” The hard line of her shoulders softened. Put on the spot, she had to agree or appear to be a real animal hater.
Sarah picked up her pen and made a note on what appeared to be a grocery list.
“Thanks for stopping in.” Will ushered Cece out the door and then pulled it shut behind her.
He watched to make sure Cece was long gone before he turned back to face Sarah. “She gave me a donation last week, along with enough false sympathy that I understood how much our positions had changed.” Sarah propped her chin on her hand. “But trying to get me fired? That’s next-level girl fight.”
Will shook his head as he chuckled. Again, she was rolling with the punches.
“Why don’t you fire me?” Sarah closed her eyes. “I bet Cece’s not the first person to ask.”
Was she talking about the cop?
Will paced around the reception area, the sunshine warming the fabric of his suit. He tried to find the words to answer her, but he didn’t really understand himself. “Here’s the thing. I believe in the shelter. And no matter what I think of you, I know you want the best for it. No one’s going to bully me into making decisions I’m not comfortable with.” He tilted his head from side to side. “Well, Bub might. We’ll finish this project. We’ve already got an agreement. Don’t make me regret it.”
Sarah studied her hands. “Fine. Thank you.”
When Will turned to go, Sarah said, “The boxes. I do need to update them. Most of them have probably disappeared.”
Instead of drooping as she had earlier, Sarah sat tall. “I’ll call a printer and get a quote to add to the list. I can’t imagine any one business takes in big donations, but all together, I might pick up enough to cover one of the smaller bills.”
Again, Sarah’s logic surprised him. Instead of throwing a fit—those boxes had probably been part of Paws for Love’s fund-raising efforts for years—she’d studied the situation, brushed off the emotion and focused on what happened next.
Sarah had almost zero experience making these types of business decisions, but her aptitude was there. With enough time and experience, she could direct Paws for Love.
And a little confidence.
Will sighed. Building Sarah Hillman’s self-esteem was not his responsibility. But he found it impossible not to offer encouragement.
It was for the benefit of the shelter.
“The boxes are a good reminder that the shelter’s there. Every day, while customers are checking out, they see the name, address and a cute face. And kids? They have so much influence in pet acquisition.” Acquisition? Could he be any stodgier?
Sarah didn’t call him on it. “Are you the voice of experience there?” They both glanced at Chloe, who was curled up in one of the reception chairs, her feet dangling over the edge as she played a cell phone game and nodded along to whatever was playing through her headphones. “After cleaning the kitchenette and restocking the bathroom, she was ready to start counting carpet threads, so I handed her my phone. Maybe she can improve my score at Turn the Tables.”
This time Will withheld the question. He never would have imagined Sarah Hillman playing games on her phone.
“It’s easy.” She shrugged. “Number tiles. Sort of a mix of dominoes and math homework.”
She was doing it again, making him wonder if the mean-girl persona protected a normal human being.
“Am I the voice of experience on all things kid related?” Will rubbed his forehead. “No, that’s not me. But even I’ve had the please-can-we-get-a-puppy argument.” He motioned at Chloe. “This one can beg like a true pro.” That
scared cat at the shelter had done him a huge favor. The way he felt now, off balance and desperate to pull her close, he’d have said yes.
“Good to know.” Sarah smiled innocently at him when he narrowed his eyes.
“We’ve had this talk. Do not plot against me.” Suspicious and amused at the same time, Will frowned, but he wasn’t sure his words had any effect.
Sarah made another note. “Don’t suppose you have any graphic arts or photography talents.”
“No, I’m not very creative. You’re on your own there.” He watched her slowly turn a page in the binder.
When she flagged the page and wrote a note, he asked, “What are you doing?”
She straightened in her chair. “Reading your procedures. It helps with the spreadsheet if I take a break.”
“So you’re reading my step-by-step instructions on...” He stepped closer to read the heading. “How to file emails. You don’t get emails.”
“No, but I might find some good practices to put into place at the shelter.” She tapped the pen on the paper. “I don’t get email there, either, but that’s something I’m going to have to change. With her daughter’s help, Shelly does all our website photo updates and posting on adoption sites on her own time.” Sarah sighed. “She needs some help. I added a laptop to the fund-raising request. I’m afraid I’m asking for too much. What if Rebecca, Stephanie and Jen reject my whole outline because the bottom line is way too big?”
He didn’t have much experience in fielding donor requests, but he had a hunch her fear would be on target for most organizations. Everyone had limited funds. That was true for corporations, not-for-profits, wealthy individuals and working-class citizens.
But Rebecca, Stephanie and Jen were not regular philanthropists. In the face of a solid request, backed up by puppy dog eyes and curious cats, they wouldn’t stand a chance. Sarah could ask for the moon and get it, as long as she made a solid case.
But she should think about what would happen after this influx of money. Sarah needed long-term fund-raising.
“Put the donation boxes in. Keep the computer.” He leaned over her shoulder to study her spreadsheet. Her figures were solid. “Overall, printing thirty or forty donation boxes won’t make a big difference to the bottom line.”
Heart's Refuge (Lucky Numbers) Page 9
