One Wish

by T. M. Cromer

  “No,” she confessed.

  Hope reached for her hand and squeezed it between the two of hers. “Not a lot of men can handle a strong, independent woman without feeling threatened. Keep that in mind before you beat yourself up.”

  “But I’m weird.”

  “I’ve seen ol’ Randall Crandall around you, Faith. I also talked to him in the office as he admired your photo on the Fiore Wall of Fame. He didn’t bother with anyone else’s picture. If you weren’t in it, he didn’t spare it a second glance. But those that had you, well, the man nearly burned a hole through the paper they were printed on.”

  Her mouth fell open in shock. “He did not!”

  “He did. And, you know the picture where everyone but Mama gets us confused?” Hope waited for her nod. “He knew it was you the instant he saw it.”

  “Nuh uh!”

  “Yep. When I asked how he knew, he said—and I quote—‘Her outfit. The mismatched colors are a clear indication she dances to her own tune.’”

  Faith laughed as undoubtedly Hope had intended.

  “He does like you, Faith. But where we’ve been known to fall instantly, others need a little longer to process their feelings. Give him time.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Rand sipped his espresso as he waited for the last of the Fiores to join the meeting. Faith had offered him a cup when he’d first arrived and then disappeared, her tight pencil-skirt-clad ass swishing as she flounced away. As he sat alone in the conference room, he watched through the glass as she interacted with a handful of employees who came in to pick up their pay stubs.

  She had an open, easy quality about her that men enjoyed. She’d tease, they’d get flustered, and she’d let loose that gut-tangling laugh. Did she realize how sexy she sounded? That all the male workers stood around in the hope that she’d notice them? Most likely not.

  Her demeanor changed as her brothers stepped through the main door. The expression on her face became professional and polite as she waved the men off. Rand suspected it was for show in order to keep the loitering employees from getting in trouble with the big boss. Anyone arriving at the office would believe she had only just handed over the envelopes instead of having spent fifteen minutes shooting the shit and allowing the men to bask in the warmth of her smile on such a chilly day.

  He continued to observe her through the glass as she picked up her laptop, grabbed her mug of coffee, and tapped on Hope’s door. As she made her way down the hall, he discovered it was impossible to look away. The gentle sway of her hips had his mouth watering and his blood pumping.

  In order to get himself under control, he turned his attention to the reports in front of him. He mentally tallied the columns on the first page and then, because he still fought his arousal, he calculated the second and third pages. Only when all the Fiores were seated did he look up.

  His gaze was immediately drawn across the table to Faith. She observed him with a detached air—as if he were a stranger. As if yesterday never meant a damned thing to her. He opened his mouth, ready to question her, when he caught a movement from the corner of his eye. Hope. She’d been signaling something to Faith, who now struggled to contain her mirth.

  Without a doubt, the laughter was directed at him. Coldness pervaded his every pore. He was a joke to these women. Sweat pooled along his upper lip and in the area of his lower back. He loosened his tie.

  “Rand?” Faith said his name softly, and he mourned the loss of her teasing use of ‘Randall Crandall.’ “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” He maintained his professionalism—barely. “Let’s get to the business at hand. I’m sure everyone has a busy day ahead.”

  He passed out copies of the reports and went on to describe how he’d discovered the inconsistencies. With clear precision, he pointed out the dates and amounts of the false entries. Faith’s expression went from shocked to ill, and it was his turn to question if she was all right when all the color drained from her face.

  “Trouble?”

  Her lip trembled, and she refused to acknowledge him. It was as if she’d aged fifty years. She slowly rose and held the back of the chair she’d been occupying. “Excuse me.”

  She knew. Faith knew who was responsible for the loss. A glance around the table spoke of her family’s confusion.

  Rand surged to his feet and charged after her without offering any explanation of his own. He caught up with her as she was headed to the front door. His grip on her elbow halted her flight. With a check over his shoulder to be sure they couldn’t be heard, he asked, “What the hell is going on? What do you know?”

  In a voice as cold as he’d ever heard, she said, “Leave it alone, Mr. Crandall.”

  Mr. Crandall? What the hell was this?

  “Faith—”

  “You were hired to do a job. You accomplished that job admirably. I’m sure my family will continue to retain your services for the vineyard. But a mistake has been made, and I need to see it’s put to order. You and I are done here.”

  He jerked as if she’d struck him. “You—”

  She yanked her arm free and hurried out the door. He was too paralyzed with surprise to stop her.

  His eyes were drawn to the sunny-faced child on the wall in her mismatched clothing. She was a far cry from the woman who’d stormed from the building.

  “What the hell was that about?” Hope asked from somewhere behind him.

  “I’ll be damned if I know.” Rand strode past her to the conference room and gathered his belongings under the watchful eye of the Fiore family. They were dying to demand answers. However, they knew as much as he did at the moment. When he’d finished stuffing the items into his leather bag, he addressed Isabella.

  “I think it may be best if you hire another firm for your future accounting needs, Ms. Fiore. I believe it may be difficult for Faith and me to work together.”

  She waved away his comment. “Nonsense. You will maintain our accounts. Besides, Faith has put in her notice. You can deal with either Ashley or myself.”

  Rand needed a drink. Immediately. Only whiskey would remove the sour taste in his mouth. Only the warmth of the alcohol would counter the nearly frozen sludge in his veins. Because of his stupidity in sleeping with a client, he’d chased Faith away from all she held dear—her family.

  BETRAYAL CUT FAITH DEEP. Amy! Her very best friend in the world, the one to whom she entrusted all her secrets, had stolen over forty-thousand dollars from Faith’s family. Why, she had no clue, but she certainly intended to find out.

  She sent Amy a text, asking her to meet for lunch at the Spigot. Her friend readily agreed. Good. Now all Faith needed to do was arrive early and set up her phone to record the information. It might not hold up in court, but at least she’d have the satisfaction of getting a confession on tape for her family. It was the least she could do since she’d been the one to bring that viper into their nest.

  Faith arrived before the lunch crowd, which suited her just fine. She didn’t need a lot of nosy townsfolk butting into her business. She chose a booth toward the rear of the sports bar and ordered a beer. Once she set the phone to record, she waited. Amy’s one redeeming quality was that she tended to be on time.

  As she nursed her drink, Faith thought about how poorly she’d treated Rand. He’d appeared to want to help and make sure she was okay, yet she could no longer trust her own instincts. She’d spent a lifetime of making piss-poor choices and placing her trust in the wrong people. Not that it mattered if she insulted him or not. This would be her last week at the vineyard, so they wouldn’t be working together on the accounts. Also, Rand had already informed her that long-term relationships weren’t his thing.

  Her mind drifted back to the previous morning. He’d been so considerate during their lovemaking—er, sex. She had to remember that to him it wasn’t lovemaking. That would require he be in love or at least in like, right? Tears crept up on her, burning her eyes and nasal passages. Shit. Faith hated to cry, and most especially
, she hated to cry in public.

  She closed her eyes and rolled the cold bottle across her lids. Maybe anyone observing her would think she was overheated instead of an emotional wreck. Pfft. Overheated. For goodness sake, it was November! Not like she was in the middle of July and all the air conditioners in town were broken down.

  “Faith?”

  She opened her eyes as Amy slid into the booth across from her. “Hey. Want a drink?”

  “Sure. I’ll take a beer. I’m off for the rest of the afternoon. I thought about calling you to see if you needed any help in the office today since I had a few spare hours. I could use the money.”

  “Could you?”

  Amy frowned at her in confusion and gave an uneasy chuckle. “You know I’m always short of funds.”

  “Yeah, why is that, Amy? Why, if you work a full-time job and a few days a week with me, are you always short of cash?”

  As Faith watched, Amy’s hand came up to twirl a stray lock of her blonde hair. From the time they were small children, Amy had done that when she was nervous.

  “It’s this guy I started seeing. I like to be the one to treat now and again. Plus, you know how costly rent is in the area.”

  “But surely if you budgeted better…?” Faith let the insinuation dangle.

  “What’s going on with you, Faith? You seem… off somehow?”

  “Do I?” She let loose a small, brittle laugh.

  Wariness flared in Amy’s hazel eyes. “I’ve known you my whole life. I think I should know when you are upset.”

  “Yeah, so let me ask you, Amy. What reason could I possibly have for being upset with you?”

  Panic descended on Amy’s face. “I didn’t know Brandon was going to drug you that night. He said he thought you would have a good time with Joey. Everyone just wanted you to loosen up and stop being so uptight.”

  Faith’s heart stopped. “You set me up?”

  “It wasn’t like that. Joey’s not a bad guy. He said he didn’t mind if you were a bit of a freak. He said he was excited that it might extend to the bedroom.”

  “Amy… you do know they intended to rape me that night, right?”

  “No, Brandon said Joey accidentally purchased the wrong stuff. They only wanted to give you something to make you mellow.”

  She stared, unable to believe that Amy was so naive. Then, because she could no longer look at her ex-friend, Faith shifted her gaze to study the rest of the bar. She saw none of the television screens or sports banners. She remained oblivious to the growing crowd of patrons as well. Or she did until Rand sauntered in and parked his delectable ass at the main bar.

  “Faith? Don’t be mad at me. The whole thing was an accident.”

  As if sensing her stare, Rand frowned and surveyed the entirety of the room in the mirror behind the bar. Their eyes caught and held. What did he see in hers? Most likely nothing. She was numb.

  With a jerk of her head, she broke his spell over her and concentrated on Amy. “What about the money you stole from my family, Amy? Was that an accident too?”

  “What? No! Faith, I would never steal from you!”

  The fury she’d been holding at bay exploded within. Faith slammed a fist on the dark wood table. “Don’t you fucking lie to me!” She snarled. “I gave you everything! Everything!” she raged, low and lethal. “When you needed to escape your mother’s controlling ways, where did you run? To my family. When you needed to borrow money, I loaned it to you, no questions asked. When you got drunk and slept with the guy I was supposed to go to prom with, I shrugged it off. But now you’ve gone too far. You stole from my family.”

  Faith had been unaware of Rand’s approach. All her concentration had been on the lying skank who’d used her.

  “I didn’t Faith. You have to believe me. Maybe it was him? Maybe he doctored your books? He could have drugged you at the bar too.”

  “Don’t!” Her voice was like a whip—fast, furious, and sharp. “How dare you? Do you think I’m stupid? Each and every false entry was on a day you worked at the office. It dates back eight months. Rand was hired less than two weeks ago. You do the math.” Faith took comfort in the warm hand Rand settled on her shoulder. She reached up to grip it like a lifeline. “Answer one more question for me, Amy. Tell me exactly when you started dating Brandon. Did it happen to be eight months ago?”

  Amy’s countenance turned vicious. The hatred in her eyes and the snarl that curled her lip had Faith leaning back to create distance. “You think you’re all that, don’t you, Faith? Faith Fiore, spoiled little rich girl. Darling of the Fiore family. You’ve had everything handed to you.” The vitriol spewing out of her mouth became uglier. “Do you know exactly how many of your boyfriends I’ve fucked over the years? Every. Single. One. You’d come crying to me, not understanding why they never called you back. Do you want to know why? You’re a lousy fuck. That’s what I heard over and over.”

  Faith went cold all over. How could she have missed this? Amy hated her. Unable to speak, she listened as Amy continued.

  “Yeah, I took the money. It’s nothing I didn’t deserve for putting up with your whining over the years. Do you know why no one likes you, Faith? Because you’re weird. You say and do strange shit all the time. No one wants to be around you because they’re afraid you’re going to blurt out things and embarrass them.”

  Rand’s hand had tightened on her shoulder, nearly making her wince. But still, she was unable to move or speak.

  “I thought it would be funny to have Brandon and Joey drug you. No one wanted to actually rape you.” Amy sneered. “You think too highly of yourself. But they were going to take pictures to post on the internet. Everyone knows you need to be taken down a peg, and that was the perfect way to do it.”

  Finally, Rand spoke. “Is that why you suggested to Coby Adams I had something to do with it?”

  Faith’s head whipped around. But Rand had all his attention focused on Amy.

  Amy shrugged and said, “You spoiled our fun.”

  Not necessarily a confession but the insinuation was there.

  Faith swallowed and nodded. She should have enough recorded. She’d also had another ace up her sleeve. “Coby? Have you heard everything?”

  He stood from the booth behind them. “I have. Amy Masters, you are under arrest…”

  Coby listed the crimes and read Amy her rights as he hauled her up from the booth and cuffed her. The sympathy on his face when he turned to Faith made her stomach hurt. “I’m sorry.”

  The last thing she wanted or needed was pity. “Don’t be. It’s no great loss.” When they would have departed, she called to Amy. “Oh, and Amy, Brandon wasn’t worth it. He’s been sleeping with Claudia Nichols for the last seven months.”

  “You’re a liar,” Amy spat.

  “Nope. I guess Karma’s a bitch, ain’t it?”

  CHAPTER 12

  Rand had no idea what he could say to ease Faith’s suffering. The one woman she’d believed to be her best friend turned out to be her worst enemy. His mind had been blown by Amy’s confession. Pictures for the internet? What kind of lowlife animals do that?

  To ask if Faith was all right would be the height of stupidity. Of course she wasn’t all right. She probably wouldn’t be for a good while to come. Her world had shifted upside down.

  “Come on, trouble. I’ll take you home.”

  “She’s right, you know. I didn’t have any friends other than her and Jacob. I suppose I should make sure my relationship with him isn’t built on a lie too.”

  He didn’t like the defeatist attitude. It left him uneasy and out of sorts.

  “Nah. No one is that unlucky,” he tried to tease.

  While she cracked a slight smile, she wouldn’t meet his eyes. She was taking Amy’s tirade to heart. Of course, if the little tramp truly had slept with every one of Faith’s boyfriends… His unease blossomed to full-blown panic. Did she think he’d slept with Amy?

  “Faith, I didn’t sleep with her.”
<
br />   Her head came up and confusion took the place of the dull, lifeless light that had resided there. “What are you talking about?”

  “When she said she slept with all your boyfriends. I wanted to clarify, I don’t fall into that category.”

  She barked out a mirthless laugh. “I know.”

  A frown tugged at his brow.

  “I know, Rand, because a) I hadn’t gotten around to telling her I’d slept with you, so she wouldn’t have made her move yet. And b) you’re not my boyfriend. You’re just a guy I had sex with.”

  Her words hurt. Damned if they didn’t. Just a guy she’d had sex with? And even though sex with her had rocked his world, to her it hadn’t even been memorable enough for her to call her friend to brag about it.

  He sat down on the edge of the booth’s seat because his legs would no longer hold him. Anger fought for a foothold, attempting to crawl up from his belly and take over his well-ordered thoughts. What it always boiled down to was that he wasn’t good enough.

  “Exactly what did yesterday mean to you?” The words burst forth before Rand could halt them.

  “Rand, I can’t do this right now. I get it was only the equivalent of a one-night stand for you. But…”

  The rawness of her voice had him setting aside his own hurt. “But what, trouble?”

  “I can’t do this right now,” she repeated tearfully.

  Taking only a second to make up his mind, Rand made the decision to give her what she needed. He couldn’t do permanent, but maybe they could each ease the other’s hurt, even if it was only for a short while.

  He rose to his feet and held out his hand. “Come on. Let’s go back to your house, drink something strong enough to put hair on your chest, and lament about all that is shitty in the world. Then, if you’re feeling up to it, we can pick up where we left off yesterday.”