Tapestry of Trust

by Mary Annslee Urban

  Suddenly, she got a whiff of something rotten. The trash.

  Holding her breath, she clutched the bag at arm’s length, darted across the deck, down the steps, and around to the side of the house, where she lobbed the garbage bag into the large receptacle. Normally, concerned about getting dirty, she would have cringed at the idea of dealing with trash during a party. But she had no one to impress. Especially not Charlie. She rubbed her hands together, and turned back, not excited about the prospect of mingling with guests. But she was the hostess and duty was duty. Besides, for all she knew, Charlie had left.

  She felt her heart trip.

  Stop that. She walked quicker. Not as if she’d miss him.

  Halfway up the stairs, she heard the back door creak open then boots clomp onto the wooden deck. Her breath went out as a gasp, and she froze on the top step as Charlie stood beneath the patio eaves.

  He’s still here. Isabelle forced herself to breathe. Again, he sneaked away from his girlfriend while she wasn’t looking. And now here he stood stretching his limbs, Erica nowhere in sight.

  Crummy boyfriend. That was the nicest thought rolling through her head.

  “There you are.” Charlie approached and came to a halt mere inches from her.

  Isabelle mashed her lips to keep from snorting. How gullible did he think she was? Sweet talking her with his girlfriend inside. Girlfriend. Isabelle’s heart twisted. She felt weak. She staggered back, gripping the wooden banister to brace herself.

  “Are you OK?” The smile slid off Charlie’s face. He moved toward her.

  Isabelle shot her hand up like a traffic cop. “I’m fine. I just haven’t eaten much today.”

  Charlie gave her one of those you-know-better-than-that looks. “It’s almost four. You better grab something before you pass out.”

  “Please.” She snapped. “I can take care of myself.”

  For a moment, Charlie stood there, his mouth gaping. Then he shrugged. “I’m sure you can.”

  Good. They agreed on something. She drew in a shaky breath. “I need to get back to the party.”

  “Before you go in, let’s plan a time to get together.”

  Was he kidding? “Never.” She shot back. “That is unless you plan to bring your girlfriend, too.” Even then, probably not.

  “So that’s what’s wrong.” Charlie gave a deep-throated chuckle.

  Isabelle straightened, stiffening her spine, her fingers clenched. Even if she resembled one of her students ready to throw a temper tantrum, she didn’t care. “You think you’re so sly, don’t you, making a play for me while your girlfriend’s inside? You’re a bigger loser than I thought.” As if that were possible.

  “Isabelle.” Charlie held up a hand. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  Yeah, right. She pushed a hand on her hip. Like she’d believe him.

  “In fact, I haven’t dated anyone in nearly a year.”

  Whoopee. Isabelle waggled her head. Like a year was some sort of record. Well, she hadn’t dated in six. Not that Charlie needed to know. “Whatever. You can refer to Erica anyway you like.” Isabelle swung past him and headed toward the door.

  “Erica and I broke up over eleven months ago.”

  Isabelle took a couple more steps then a thought jarred her. He probably thought she was jealous. She whirled back. “Girlfriend or not, I don’t want to meet with you.”

  Charlie moved closer. “We need to talk.”

  “No, we don’t.” She owed him nothing.

  “Isabelle, I care about you. I always have.”

  Everything inside her stilled. She couldn’t move. Didn’t trust herself to speak. How long had she waited to hear those words? Words that would have changed everything. Remembrance of those lonely months she carried his child made her shiver despite the heat bubbling through her veins. She rubbed her bare arms against the chill. How dare he care about her now when she’d finally gotten her life on track.

  He reached out to touch her.

  She jerked out of his path, fighting not to cringe. Fighting not to cry.

  Charlie inched even closer. “Isabelle, we’ve made mistakes. Both of us. We need to discuss them. But this isn’t the place.”

  On that fact she agreed.

  “One hour. That’s all I ask.”

  She wanted to walk away. Needed to walk away. She drew herself up to her full height of five foot two and crossed her arms, hoping to make it clear they were finished. “No. I… I—” She broke off as she noted the pain in his expression. Seeing the color drain from his cheeks and his brow knitted made her heart ache. Reluctantly, she found herself nodding. “All right. One hour.”

  “Great. When?”

  “I don’t know.” She rubbed her head. “Maybe, next week.”

  “I’m open, any day.”

  Of course, he was. Isabelle blew out a breath. “OK. Wednesday. Seven o’clock at Tenille’s?” He knew the place.

  “OK. I can swing by and pick you—”

  She threw up her hand. “No, I’ll meet you there.”

  “Isabelle, we live in the same apartment complex.”

  As if she could forget. Concern flickered in his eyes, and she knew he worried that she’d stand him up. Might be good for him to fret a little. Then, a gentle voice, calling for compassion, whispered into her thoughts.

  She sighed. “Six forty five. Be at my apartment. We’ll walk.” That’s the most compromise she’d make. Driving, close quarters…no way.

  ****

  “I’ll be there.” Though he would have liked to see a little more enthusiasm on her face, at least she agreed.

  “I think this will be good for both of us.”

  He saw a look of panic in Isabelle’s eyes at the same time the back door swung open and someone stepped out onto the deck. Before he could swivel his head to see who it was, an arm draped around his waist.

  “Charlie, honey, why don’t you come inside and get something to eat.”

  “What?” Charlie twisted from Erica’s grip. He sent her his most toxic glare before turning his gaze back on Isabelle. Her emerald eyes widened, and her mouth opened as if ready to say something. Instead she tightened her lips and marched toward the doorway.

  As she passed him, he reached for her arm. “Isabelle, wait.” She quickened her pace and disappeared into the house.

  In five seconds Erica managed to undo every positive step he’d made with Isabelle. Anger scorched through him like wildfire. Charlie turned back to Erica. “Why would you do such a thing?”

  She gave him a crooked smile.

  Crossing his arms over his thundering chest, he glared down at her. “I don’t know what you were thinking, but I want it to stop.”

  “No. You need to stop.” Erica took a step forward, rising on her toes, close enough for him to see the fire in her eyes and smell her minty breath. “I know all about Isabelle. You’re mother told me everything.”

  Which would amount to? What? He shook his head. “I’m fine with whatever my mother told you.” He moved in closer to Erica, backing her up a step. “I have nothing to hide.”

  “So you admit it.” Her voice climbed several octaves.

  He led her by the elbow to the far end of the porch. “Listen. My personal life isn’t up for discussion.” He kept his voice low, calm, collected.

  “Don’t skirt around the truth, Charlie.” Erica’s high-pitched squeal didn’t make him cringe, but the contorted look on her face did.

  He let out a breath, swung his gaze to the door, hoping no one could hear them. It hadn’t occurred to him he’d have to defend his interest in Isabelle today. Especially with nothing to defend. “OK.” He met her glare. “Isabelle was my old girlfriend and as of now that’s all she is.” His mouth dried at the finality of the words. Old girlfriend. Even with the temperature unseasonably cool, he felt a trickle of sweat along his brow. He swiped it away with his knuckle.

  “You’re interested in her? I thought your mother was just jumping to conclusions.” E
rica shook her head as if that was the strangest notion she’d ever heard. “So she’s the reason you won’t work on our relationship.”

  He scooted back, his back pressed against the corner post putting more space between them. “Isabelle has nothing to do with us.”

  “I can’t believe you’d choose that… that…” Erica lifted her nose, waving a hand toward the house. “That half pint waif over me.”

  “Hold on a minute.” His jaw tightened. He was used to Erica running off at the mouth, but he didn’t intend to let that statement pass. “No derogatory statements about Isabelle. She isn’t our problem.”

  “Don’t defend that woman.”

  “There isn’t anything to defend. Isabelle isn’t in competition with you.”

  “You’re right!” Crimson now stained Erica’s cheeks. “It appears she’s already won.”

  “It’s not like that.” He pitched his voice low, trying to deescalate the situation. “I’m not dating Isabelle.”

  “Not dating?” Erica’s tone softened.

  “No, but, I am interested.”

  Erica gaped at him for a moment. “I can’t believe this,” she muttered. “I thought you were trying to make me jealous, having your mother leak the news. I can’t believe you’re already giving up on us.”

  Already? “Erica, we broke up over eleven months ago. That was longer than we dated.” He shook his head. “And, as far as my mother goes—”

  “Nobody makes a fool of me, Charlie.”

  Confusion smacked him. “How am I making a fool of you?”

  Erica threw up her arms. “My Daddy may think you’re a good employee, but nobody dumps me and doesn’t pay for it.” She turned, mumbling something as she stomped back into the house.

  Probably good he couldn’t hear. Shaking his head, he prayed, Lord, please help me get out of this mess.

  9

  When Charlie arrived for the Wednesday morning manager’s’ meeting the conference room was empty. He moved around the long, mahogany table and took a seat near the front. He opened his briefcase, pulled out his laptop and powered it on, ready for his presentation. Drumming a thumb on the armrest, he waited for his colleagues to arrive.

  Once everyone was there and seated, Mr. Huss called the meeting to order. As he went over the morning agenda, Erica slipped into the room and took a seat. Charlie found it interesting that she chose to sit next to him, especially when several other chairs remained vacant.

  “Charlie.” Erica leaned close and whispered. “Pass me an agenda.”

  He reached to his left, pulled a single sheet from the pile and handed it to her. He ignored the smile on her face.

  Mr. Huss leaned on the podium and adjusted his glasses. “Thank you for coming everyone. I hope the agenda doesn’t look too overwhelming. We have a full morning ahead of us. But before we dive in, there’s an issue I need to share that just came to my attention.”

  Charlie rocked back in his chair, all ears.

  “Hanson Industries called today and reported that they’ve recently been the victim of an embezzlement scheme.”

  Hanson Industries? Charlie rubbed at his jaw. That was his account.

  “Several million dollars have been diverted to various accounts around the country.” Mr. Huss cleared his voice. “Those of you who were involved with their marketing may be requested to answer some questions.”

  Comments and grumbling rose around the table. Charlie had been their main marketing agent. He’d been privy to the ins and outs of company business and knew everyone from the managers on up. Crazy to think one of them could have been responsible.

  “Sorry, to start off on a sour note.” Mr. Huss closed the file in front of him and tucked it under his arm. “Now let’s get this meeting rolling. First thing on our agenda is Charlie’s marketing strategy for Cedar Lake Barn.”

  Charlie stood and took Mr. Huss’s place at the podium.

  For forty-five minutes he scrolled through slides. He articulated projections and ideas, feeling good about the audience response by the time he was finished. “Any more questions?” He slid his gaze around, scanning the faces around the table. When his eyes touched on Erica, a sardonic grin spilt her face.

  The cat that ate the canary. She was up to something.

  An hour and a half later, the meeting adjourned.

  Charlie stood and shrugged into his jacket.

  Erica elbowed his forearm. “Lunch, Charlie?” Her long lashes brushed against her cheek as she winked.

  She never stopped. He breathed deep. “No, thanks.”

  He reached down to get his briefcase then skirted around Erica and toward the door.

  “Charlie, hold up a minute.” Mr. Huss’s voice rose from behind him.

  Charlie stopped short and circled back, walking to the front of the room. “Yes, Mr. Huss?”

  Erica sidled up to her father and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Bye, Daddy.”

  “Have a nice lunch, sweetheart.” Mr. Huss walked from behind the podium.

  “I will.” She trotted by Charlie, her nose in the air. She didn’t so much as blink in his direction. He was relieved.

  Mr. Huss clapped his shoulder. “Charlie, your presentation was excellent. You’re marketing ideas continue to amaze me.”

  “Thank you.” Charlie nodded, enjoying the sense of accomplishment that hard work created. Even with all his distractions, he managed to impress his boss. Thank you, Lord.

  “You’ve been a valued employee. Everyone in the firm would agree.” Pausing, Mr. Huss shifted from one foot to the other. He cleared his throat, his voice went lower. “That’s why the topic I need to discuss with you is difficult.”

  Charlie swallowed, trying to ease the sudden dryness in his throat. Was he being let go?

  Mr. Huss eyed him warily. “Is there something you need to disclose about the Hanson account?”

  “No. Why would there be?”

  “It’s your account, Charlie.” The tone in Mr. Huss’s voice became guarded. Maybe even disbelieving. “You know, if you’re mixed up in this, it’s better to come clean now before attorneys and investigators start digging around.”

  “Mr. Huss.” Charlie straightened. “Feel free to send any of Hanson’s attorneys or investigators my way. I’ll be happy to cooperate. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “Good, I’d be disappointed to find out differently.”

  ****

  Charlie scrunched his eyes against the headache thumping against his forehead. Yanking open the bottom drawer of his desk, he grabbed a fistful of files, shoved them into his briefcase, and stalked to the copy machine outside his office.

  His mind raced with a marathon of questions. How could Mr. Huss think he’d be involved in an embezzlement scheme? Hundreds of people worked for Hanson Industries. Were they all suspect until proven otherwise?

  Dropping his briefcase onto a chair, Charlie released a sigh. He firmly believed in the justice system, but in case his files were subpoenaed, he’d better get copies.

  So much for his free afternoon.

  He popped open the briefcase, flung a page onto the glass surface and punched the start button.

  Drumming his fingers against the side of the copier, Charlie hoped Erica hadn’t put the bug in her father’s ear suggesting his involvement. No. He tossed that last thought out. Even she wouldn’t do something that low.

  Charlie slapped another page onto the copier. He took a step back to stare out the sixth floor window. Beyond the pane, bright sunshine filled the sky. Golden rays bathed the neighboring buildings. For a moment, he just stood there remembering how fond he used to be of spring. Fresh air, the scent of grass and trees, long, winding trail rides with Isabelle. What he wouldn’t give to relive those simpler times.

  Screeeech. Clunk. Screeeech. The sound sent Charlie’s gaze scurrying back in a hurry. He fumbled with the buttons and knobs until the paper jam cleared and another copy slipped into the plastic tray. He blew out a sigh. At this rate he would be here
all day.

  He rolled his shoulders and snagged another page from a folder.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Hamilton. How are you today?”

  Startled, Charlie looked up to the custodian fiddling with the thermostat. “Uh, yes…good afternoon. I’m doing fine. And you?” Fine? A slight exaggeration.

  “Good. Good. I wasn’t expecting to see anyone. I thought the bigwigs had the afternoon off? Shouldn’t you be out golfing?”

  Charlie gave a forced laugh. “I wish. But I have some things to catch up on.”

  “I understand. Nice to have the office to yourself for a change. I prefer to work without interruptions, too. Believe me with the amount of work the boss man piles on, every minute counts. And the work that we have coming up…Woo-wee.”

  Charlie half listened to the older man jabber on about some new sound system. He thumbed through another file, thinking about the work he still had to do. Work. Another nagging concern. He sure hoped he wouldn’t have to be looking for a new job soon.

  “Have a nice day, Mr. Hamilton.”

  The custodian’s footsteps clumped against the wood floor, and Charlie had just enough time to lift his head and watch him walk out of the room before Brenda’s two-toned head bobbed into view. So much for having the office to himself.

  “Tell me it’s not so.” Brenda marched toward him. “You didn’t get fired?”

  Charlie slapped another page on the copier. “Why aren’t you at lunch?”

  “Ate early with Hannah. You know, when the rat’s away the mice will play.”

  “Don’t you mean cat?”

  Brenda grabbed the stack of papers from his hand. “No, I like cats.” He watched as she slipped the pages into a tray on top of the copier and pushed start. “If you put them into this automatic document feeder, you don’t have to go through that archaic routine of yours.”

  Ah. He knew there had to be a better way. “Brenda, what would I do without you?”

  “You wouldn’t wanna know.” She grinned then scrunched her brows, all humor draining from her face. “Hey, you didn’t answer my question. Did you get canned?”